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Lone World

Swamp


Ever since the had passed the old sign, the small group of the Koolest's crew was trailed by the slightest sound of footsteps. If any of them were to hear and look back to check if they were being followed, there was no sign of movements and living creature besides the bugs and occasional birds. It could have been just the echo of their steps somehow managing to bounce off the still water as unlikely as it seemed. The ghostly footsteps continued to follow them until Nyran suggested rest.

It was silent from the forest again for several minutes. Whatever had been following them seemed to have left for the moment. As it continued to grow darker, the sound of bugs picked up. The far sound of the ocean waves below the cliff mixed together to make an unusual but oddly alluring symphony of the natural elements. When the place was completely lit by only the night sky and moon(s), the creature who had been watching them finally was able to be seen. Partially. Its first appearance was as it flashed from one tree behind another, looking like nothing more than a white blur that was softened by the night. The steps were heard again as it shot to another closer. It stepped out slowly from the trees after this. A white muzzle lead to wide dark eyes before turning into an intricate sprout of antlers. The creature which could only be described at the moment as a white deer studied them for a long time. It stood awkwardly like its limbs were longer than it knew what to do with. Its steps were heavy or clumsy if it was that far away when following before. It seemed to be waiting for something. After a long minute of staring at them from 30 yards away, the deer turned and retreated again, disappearing behind a tree again. This time it didn't come back out.

"Nobody comes near the swamps much anymore," a voice called to them from the trees. It sounded like a male but cracked lightly. "People are scared of this place these days. Talk of witches and monsters. Why are you here then? Looking for treasure? Rare plants or animals? Come to vanquish some evil beast to get praise? Or perhaps you're not from around here and don't know about the stories? Are you lost?"

There was a movement of white again as something poked its head out from behind a tree. Not the deer, but what appeared to be an extremely pale human. Other than his blond hair, no characteristics could be seen past his choice of cover. He studied them cautiously from his hiding place, clearly expecting them to attack at any second.

City

Even as Kilwen gets peasants out of there houses, refusing to leave as there very homes burn, however once he goes them to safety they go back and start burning other homes! Kilwen was gritting his teeth. This was no way his voice did something like this, this was stirred on by something or someone else. He abandon his crusade as he made his way towards the castle, knowing that the crew of Koolest can handle a few peasants. Seeing the royal guard of the castle also participating in the chaos was confusing as all hell. Why would the royal guard do such a thing to there own subjects? Kilwen aw the castle in the distance and saw that the gate was wide open.

He had a bad feeling but he wanted answers and see if he could diffuse the situation. So he ran in place for a few seconds before he darted off, leaving large plumes of dirt as his feet touches the ground as he races towards the castle's entrance. As he got close he jumped into the entrance way and spun very quickly around with his blade just in case there was an ambush, he would be able to deflect the bolts and arrows or any other projectile away from him and back to the attackers at him. If no one was in the courtyard he would yell with his booming voice"Where is the commander of this castle?! I wish to speak to him!" as he looks around expecting hostility towards him.

"BACK THE $%&@ DOWN? YOU STABBED ME IN THE CALF, LETS GO" screamed Jet, the hair on his neck and arms raising in an almost primal show of ferocity. The previous engagement had roused nothing but a little fighting spirit, but the amount of adrenaline pumping through him could rival the most efficient dark matter injection system on any AstreRider. Though his body was anything but calm, and his response to the piercing of the calf seemed guttural, Jet did not intend on losing his inner cool, like he had done many a time before. For a split second, a fleeting thought had passed through his mind, the thought of losing control; he thought he could afford to, none of his friends were around, no one to protect...But that thought had left his mind as soon as it had come, because if he let up now, what would stop him later on? Slippery slope...slippery slope.

"Looks like the lying thing worked pretty well, she's peeved" thought Jet, reading himself in a normal fighting stance, one that he himself had gotten so accustomed to, its akin to sitting. Jet started to bounce back and forth on the balls of his feet, moving in an almost rhythmic motion, and slowing moved in to engage the mysterious huntress. As soon as he got close enough, he did almost a dance around her, moving quickly back and forth, flashing his hands while keeping his defending position intact, trying to distract her. During this dance around, Jet took notice of the blade, the one dripping with his calf blood, and wanted to disable it. It honestly reminded him of his large game fighting back in his childhood, except this time his opponent was much more intelligent, had the terrain advantage, and had enough strength to pierce his calf. With all of that thinking done, Jet was finally ready to fight, lunging forward with his left hand to ensnare the knife hand, while also twisting his right hip forward, turning himself almost sideways; his right hand shooting in between her guard and grabbing around the neck, finally throwing her to the ground and getting her into a scarf hold.

"They only promised me friendship, and that's all I could ask for...now you tell me, what's a strange woman like you doing around here, and more importantly, how do you know me" Arnaldo answered with almost stoic confidence, moving his hand towards his hand cannon, readying himself to draw it like some planet hopping outlaw. After a few tense moments of consideration, Arnaldo relaxed, lowering the hand he had just raised, "In all honesty, I fit perfectly with them, I legally count as a intergalactic terrorist, and the amount of fake ID's I've made makes my round up as a PI look like chump change, though those sleaze balls had nothing better to do than to sling hoshiware and flaunt their obviously fake platinum jewelry".

A seed had just been planted, the seed of dilemma, and of the nastiest variety, a moral dilemma. Oozing and bubbling into the forefront of his mind, Arnaldo began to toss the idea around of what he had done, and what he will do, were to be morally correct. "Come to think of it, *slides beer away*, those people were sentient...they had lives, albeit dastardly ones, they had lives nonetheless...becoming this 'terrorist'...killing those mobsters...its brought me quite the mirror to look into...I saw them as the bad guy, and they saw me as the bad guy. I've done things that probably seem like sadist's wet dream compared to those mobsters, but I still killed them without a second thought....tell me, Am I the bad guy?"

"Sorry, I get a bit loopy when I haven't had my fill...and ya know what...you're damn right, I have been a bit unusually nice, I guess ole Ringo is softening up" laughed Ringo, swinging back an old timey bottle of whiskey, giving a joking punch to the gut "area" that Ringo thought Mutacogi had for some reason. Ringo reciprocated the arm on the shoulder thing and jokingly hummed while jiggling his hand, his almost drunken way of imitating Muta's comforting strategy. "Alrighty, how about we crack this damned box open, see why every damned mob boy wants our hides" whispered Ringo, swiveling towards Mutacogi, banging out the half cut locks. The box had revealed something Ringo had only dreamed of seeing, a digital wallet that only displayed the number 500,000 with the Standard symbol smack dab in front of it. It was as if Ringo had opened the Ark of the Covenant, it was beautiful. Then he immediately shut it.

"Muta, we've got to get the flippity @$%& outta here, and to the nearest ship dealership" stuttered Ringo, shoving the spoon with sugar into Muta's "mouth", and rushing the blob out the door. Mounting the hoverbike, Ringo revved it like it was his holy steed, and darted towards the nearest dealership, G̵͙͇̻̉͐̔͛̚͝ḩ̶̞̞̱̻͂̈́̀̓̀͊̆̅̍̾́̚͝u̶̲̫͙͓͙̹̟̤̼̭͖͓̍͛̉̔̾͘͜ľ̵̲̯̫͇̰͓̖̯̞̣̜͙̘͉̹̆̇̒͒̿̐̓̒̈́̍̃͝͠a̴̡͖͎̣̩̠̒̍̈́͘ĩ̷̡̢̨̘̣̼̱̳͖̲̺̺̀͜'s-Ship-Emporium. "Muta, we are going to buy the sleekest, fastest, and most comfortable piece of star#$%& you'll ever see, and then, we are going to find the ultimate treasure,Stella Viventium. Muta, we will be chased by the mob, encounter things that shouldn't exist in our plane of being, and we might not even find the legendary lost cityship, but I can guarantee you that we will have one hell of an adventure...are you willing to do this? Mutacogi?" Ringo had exclaimed, his holographic tumbleweed firing off at the wrong moment, his mechanical eye fixating on Mutacogi, and his hand outstretched in a pseudo handshake sorta way.

"Detective, I've found it most efficient to kill one's enemy, rather than to leave them alive, only for them to amass a large amount of backup, but whatever floats your boat" yawned Jacobo, lowering his rifle and then falling into slumber, only to accidentally fire off a round into the table, burying itself deep into the ground of the bar, oddly making no noise. As if his subconscious was now in control, two of his arm began to take apart his weapon and store it in his back carapace area. His long beard was blow in a wave like fashion as the two tectonic beings fought, his stunted and wheezing snores being complimented by the screams of some outlandish creature, only to be followed up by a jarring slam.

---

The Kingsbane

What was the fool doing?

Could he not see?

It stood before him - the great, tidal forces of the Universe, of Existence and UnBeing, of divinity and sacrilege.

Yet he did not shudder, did not tremble. Indeed, it was as if he were the master of those tides - as if he were to stand deep within the Great Engine and spread his arms and declare his disdain for the laws of nature and the reality of the Universe. He feared not those great powers that hung before them. Indeed, he controlled them...Or so convinced he seemed.

That word…

Fracture

It sounded familiar. Though she knew not the word itself, the meaning was clear enough.

The breaking, the separating - the undoing.

Her undoing?

Had he done all this simply to bring about her UnBeing? Had he gained her trust merely to make it that much easier to destroy her once and for all?

No.

How absolutely arrogant it would be to assume that she would be the target of such an attack - if, indeed, this was an attack at all. Who was she that might think so highly of herself? No - no such fear would cross her mind. The Prophet had earned her permanent, unyielding trust back there, standing in the little moving room.

It was more than duty - more than the responsibility of the Keeper. It was something new - something that she thought she might have experienced in some past life, where everything was different…

There was fear, not for herself, but for him.

She knew what this was. The specifics were as alien to her as the rest of this place, but the fundamentals were the same. She had seen this before - and as he proceeded closer to the thing that was both great and terrible, her nonexistent heart sank deeper and deeper within the inhuman recesses of her alien chest.

It was happening again.

Again!

The memory hit her with the force of an atomic bomb. All at once, a nightmare so long forgotten came pouring down over her. Her vision became blurry and unfocused as a deep panic welled up in her gut, fluttering into her breast like so many unwanted insects.

He spoke, and she snapped out of it - though her white-on-white eyes were still wide with horror, gaping at him from behind the messy white-blonde hair.

Whirling, the girl glanced frantically at the others within the big chamber to see if any of them were as terror-stricken as they should have been - and was disappointed. For an instant, she loathed them for what they were about to do to her surely unknowing Prophet. Surely, surely - for why else would he embark on such a suicidal errand, and so casually, at that?

This was an emergency.

This was a crisis.

Cardinal-Master was in danger, and she would not allow him to come to harm. She couldn’t. It was her instinct, her natural urge. Her need. She had no choice but to act.

The others were irrelevant. Let them kill themselves. There was no time to convince them to stop, and it was within neither her place nor her capability to even try. All she could do was her duty.

Protect.

It was a countdown of some kind. She had no way of knowing this, yet it was so. Time was limited. She must act.

There was no hesitation. The bodyguard’s reflex was instantaneous. She had no plan, except that her Prophet, her Cardinal-Master must under no circumstances be allowed to come to harm. No plan indeed, for she was in a place so new and incomprehensible to her - nothing made sense, out here in the Toolmakers’ Ark - but it would not stop her.

Even if it killed her.

Even if it killed them all.

”Four.”

She would not lose someone else to such blatant arrogance and stupidity.

”Three.”

Time seemed to slow down.

”Two.”

The girl stepped forth, lunging wordlessly at the man, teeth clenched and eyes wide.

”One.”

She collided with him, not unlike before - wrapping her arms around his slender form and squeezing, clinging to him with face buried in his jacket.

There was a shutter-flash of brilliant amethyst from within the thing before them, but the old scientist would not see it.



”Breach successful.” He said, but his staff did not hear him.

”Well done, team.” He continued, smiling encouragingly down at the girl who was again clinging to him as she had done before - his mind simply unable to comprehend initially the incredible rate at which everything had changed. There had been no sensation of movement, or even of time. He would be unable to realize it until after he’d said it…

Indeed, The Kingsbane, and all the intelligent entities inside, were now in a zone beyond Space and Notspace.

---

LoneWorld

Farming Village

For a long time, Ty stood atop the little bluff with the white picket fence and dubiously surveyed the achingly quaint village standing squatly before them.

There was something very wrong about the whole thing, he knew. The only problem was that something being buried amidst several metric tonnes of other problems. He appeared to be ignoring his companion completely, thoughtfully massaging his chin and frowning.

No smoke rose from the thatched roofs. The packed-earth road constituting Main Street Cornville was clearly well trodden. Among the wares displayed on the stoop of ’Booker’s Generol Goods’ - farming tools, feed bags and the like - were fresh fruits and vegetables. The air was silent but for the wind that rustled the oversized corn.

What was this place? Ty could think of only two options; either it was some kind of recreation of some ancient way of life, or…

”It’s a barbworld.” Ty said at last, voice low and with a hint of uncertainty. Maybe he had been ignoring Rin? Realizing absently that the term was likely unfamiliar, he clarified distractedly ”Barbarian world. A planet that fell into barbarism and became isolated until the whole civilization started over from scratch.”

The inflection in his voice implied that he was not one hundred percent certain of this, but it was indeed a solid theory. After all, why would anyone have recreated an ancient farming village so far away from civilization in this no-man’s-land of eternal corn?

If they really were on a ‘barbworld’ then the situation was likely not good - since often such planets became isolated to begin with due to some force that made communication difficult or impossible, such as improper electromagnetic fields or other natural obstructing forces. If that was the case, it was extremely unlikely that anyone would be coming to rescue them...Since they would have no reason to think there was anyone on the planet at all.

But dwelling on the matter was useless, Ty decided abruptly. Rin was right - if there were people on this rock - primitive, uneducated people at that - it would be best to come off as non-threatening as possible. Humanity had existed more than long enough to prove beyond any doubt that people in the best of circumstances did not react well to new and unfamiliar things - let alone near-savages who were apt to view modern clothing as a godly miracle.

At last actually acknowledging the Nyran, Ty nodded decisively. ”You’re right.” He said, ”I’ve got reservations about this but...It might be best to see if we can sneak into one of these houses and see what we can find. I don’t know what happened to everyone here but...Do you have the fairytale about ‘Golden-Lochs and the Three Bugbears’ where you come from?” He was mildly interested of course, but the point was clear enough. If by some chance the resident returned while they were raiding someone’s house…

As luck would have it though, Ty was able to spot one building that was slightly estranged from the rest. It was conveniently the only structure with a visible window, covered by simple slotted wooden shutters. It would be no challenge at all to sneak in…

But again, before he made for the building, he glanced once more to his companion. If Rin had any other ideas, he would probably go with them instead. It seemed to him that despite his being unable to think of it, surely there must have been a better plan than this. The sort of thing that would make him feel like a fool for not having thought up in the first place.

---

Swamp

Musky twilight descended upon the cliffside, with the rolling waves below and the sounds of wildlife from the west. Making a campfire seemed like the most logical next step, so Sands made with collecting bits of wood and tinder, arranging it carefully in a small plot of sand.

”Hey, any chance you could use that aether-stuff to light this?” He asked once it was done, but was only half serious. If necessary he did know how to light a fire the old-fashioned way (Though Space alone knew why he had such an archaic and nearly useless skill in the first place) and would do so without complaint.

If any among them were aware of the creature that stalked them, it wasn’t him.

Not that Sands was oblivious to his surroundings, nor the potential dangers of them - but flawed as humans were, he was simply unable to detect their follower.

To the soothing tune of marsh and sea, ruddy dusk turned to night. A moon, pale and uninteresting, rose from the east, peering over the horizon of the ocean. Stars appeared. The sage-green clouds in the sky seemed to turn a deep forest emerald.

There was a quality of aching loneliness in that night sky. Among those stars, a galactic civilization thrived - and below them, on a forgotten rock, three lonesome travelers wondered if they would ever again see those that mattered most.

In so tranquil and melancholy a place, all thoughts of paranoia, of skulking monsters lurking in shadowy depths, seemed to drift into obscurity, and not just for Sands.

It seemed somehow wrong to simply pass out by the fire, regardless of how exhausted they all might have been.

”Should probably hold ‘till morning.” Sands mused, sitting by the fire and staring into it with the glazed eyes that had been so transfixed by it since the dawn of time.

And then, movement.

Sands was jolted into alertness. He was on his feet in a second - even before it occurred to him that he had no idea which way to move, or if he needed to move at all. If some conflict was coming, it was best to be standing, right?

It stepped out from the inky shadows that clung to the thick swamp’s edge. It stared blankly at them with dark, unreadable eyes. It stood like a spectre manifested from the low, wispy fog that rose from the muddy waters and swirled in faint eddies.

And then it was gone.

Sands blinked, and only had time to croak, almost inaudibly ”What the actual @#$% was that.” before an entirely out-of-place voice piped up from somewhere else in the cover of the gnarled trees and misty underbrush.

Sands blinked again. Had he heard that correctly?

Witches and monsters?

He was no mind-reader, but he had the feeling that this newcomer was not simply screwing with them. Though it had yet to cross his mind that the world upon which he now stood might be a ‘barbworld’, it did make him think, and inspired a rephrasing of what he had intended to say.

”That impact last night must have caused quite a stir.” He called back, probing carefully, not wanting to give away their own direct involvement with the thing that had careened from the sky. Now was not the time to address the spectre which, for all he knew, had been a terrifying mirage brought upon by the stress and exhaustion. ”We’re looking for the other ones.”

It was a surreal conversation to be sure.

It was unlikely however that the newcomer would be able to help them in that respect, unless they had some other means of acquiring information. Rumors were circulating in the cities, of course - stories about great, flaming wrecks crashing down from the sky. Two in the north, three in the south. However such rumors were far from where they were now, here on the cliffside bog miles south of Hag’s Shore.

A moment later, almost conversationally he added ”Also, uh, did you all see that terrifying deer-thing or was that just me?”

---

City

With each passing moment, the city crumbled further into ruin and anarchy.

As the group proceeded through the shadowy streets and alleys, aglow with the fires that burned around every corner, the sky began to turn black and the air become thick, and toxic. The taste of oily smoke, of burning tinder and melting plaster, sat heavily upon their tongues. The stink of sick fires and cooking flesh. With each turn, the outlook became darker still.

Where the others took into account the lives of the crazed peasants, Dallen Armston had no such qualms about ending the lives of ’innocents’ such as these. Regardless of what had stirred them into their frenzy, a person trying to kill her or her friends was an enemy combatant and should be treated as such.

If she’d had her gun, her killcount would have been much greater.

As it was, Dal’s first confirmed kill was the first peasant lucky enough to land a hit on her. It was a clumsy blow to the side with a rusty shovel and would leave little more than a bruise, but it was enough to set her off. Spinning the hatchet rightways, she whirled a vicious strike across the filthy man’s solar plexus and kept moving without a second glance. He was still wheezing about ”Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuk” as the others passed, but his life was undoubtedly at an end.

Not that he seemed to mind. Not one bit.

It became apparent as the group moved northeast through the crumbling city that the fire and chaos had spread much like an oil fire - with the destroyed ‘Chapel of Motuk’ the central point. From there it had spread faster and faster as the madness multiplied among them. Despite having seen the incident start in the first place, the group would find that as they entered new districts of the city the destruction and chaos had already claimed them. It had moved fast enough that by the time they reached the dockside district many buildings had already crumbled to smoldering ash.

Luckily for them, however, the rapid spread of the riots and destruction meant that the worst of it had already passed through this place. Fires still burned and peasants still scampered too and fro, occasionally setting a new blaze or goring other peasants - but the wild throngs of frenzied peasants flooding through the narrow streets of the inner city were not present in this place.

Comparatively it seemed peaceful. There was little in the way of destruction immediately surrounding the wharves and docks, at which small boats were moored for shuttling to larger sailing-ships that swayed gently in the open waters of the northern Great Sea. Several other tall ships could be seen farther down the docks, gangplanks descended for loading, crates and barrels and boxes stacked about the staging areas. Some of them, of course, were on fire. Several wrecks could be seen peering jaggedly over the water. The dull, whiteish sound of distant chaos was ever present, but here the sound of gulls could be heard as well, and seen soaring high above the pale jade-green clouds.

In the middle-distance, one ship did stand out from the others, mainly due to more closely resembling an ironside-steamboat rather than the tall-masted sailing ships. It bobbed lazily at the end of the longest pier…

And if one squinted, one might see what looked almost like the shape of someone standing on the bow.

---

In a great, bounding leap, Kilwen cleared the crumbling castle wall and slammed majestically down into the courtyard beyond. His behemoth form stood amidst the swirling dust like the emergence of a cyclopean god rising from the earth itself. It was a sight that would bring awe and terror to any brave enough to gaze upon the incredible sight. A display of such overwhelming force that attackers would surely be shocked into stillness, even cognizance.

But alas, nobody was there to appreciate the sight.

The courtyard, save for several lifeless corpses of castle-keep staff, guards and peasants alike, was completely deserted.

It was clear that the destruction had already passed through here, just as it had ravaged through the city proper at so alarming a rate - just as it continued to do now, beyond the ruined walls of the castle keep. In the distance, a fresh plume of black smoke bellowed up from a newly felled structure. There was some whooping and, of course, the catchphrase that had been repeated so much. But all of it was far from the relative serenity of the abandoned courtyard.

It was a modest structure, showing no signs of the extreme class-divergence that was so often present in societies such as these. It was a place of only the barest nobility, and one got the impression that it was not pretending to be anything greater than that.

The great doors of the castle - which truly was more of a cobblestone fortress than anything - hung wide open, one charred black with fire. Deep within, musky shadows cloaked the great hall that would inevitably lead straight to the throne room.

The Lord would need to duck through the doors, and once inside his head would just barely scrape the vaulted ceiling. Here, some weak attempt at grandeur had been made - the half hearted attempts of some lackluster architect trying to give at least some semblance of majesty to this most vital of chambers - but it began to seem with each step deeper into the structure that it was all rather hastily constructed.

Indeed, the castle itself could not have been more than sixty or seventy years old.

Within the dank walls of this strange, yet mundane structure, dead silence hung more oppressive even than the chaos of before. The place had been ransacked - and either everything of value had been taken, or there had been little of value to begin with. Most of the torches mounted in their cast-iron brackets upon the walls had been either removed or extinguished, with those that remained casting an eerie glow intermittent within the shadows.

The throne itself was hardly more than an overbuilt chair sat upon several consecutive slabs of stone - but it was here that the first real clue could be found - and it couldn’t have been clearer.

Beside the ‘throne’ was a small pool of blood, and a hunk of rock that was saturated enough as to mark it clearly the weapon which had inflicted the wound. Conveniently, the tiny droplets could be seen leading away from the throne, around the corner, and down one of the narrower corridors.

It was only as Kilwen was rounding the second corner down the hallway that at last, a sign of life would cry out from further down, in the form of another wild ”Ovamotukka monshuuk kanuuuuk!!”

It was immediately followed by several harsh thump thump thumping sounds, not unlike a blunt object battering human flesh.

Several bodies littered the hallway as he proceeded.

Rounding the last stretch of the corridor, several doors along the way hung open - but only the farthest shed the flickering glow of a torch within. Shadows danced against the light.

And then there was a great CRASH! of something being smashed, a cry of shocked agony, and the almost blurry shape of someone stumbling out from the chamber to fall back against the opposing wall. The man - another peasant, it seemed - was still squealing about ’Ovamotukka’ and only ceased when the thin, deadly bolt of a crossbow shot out from within and pierced his skull, quieting him for good.

There was a clunk as the offending crossbow was tossed unceremoniously onto the wooden floor, then silence.

If the one in that room, so quiet compared to literally everyone else, was the one to blame for the scattering of bodies lining the hall up to that point, they were bound to be someone tough...

---

Forest

The familiar, honey-gold eyes of the huntress were calm and collected - a stark contrast to the wild fury that she was staring down. His words echoed about the small cave, seeming to vibrate the air itself with its power.

But she was not convinced - and she would not be fooled, nor distracted.

The man - the starlander - was more intelligent and emotionally controlled than he was letting on. It was Akota, grumbling from her memories, that told her this. It made him only more dangerous still. That his lie had been in itself an attempt to peeve her off had not occurred to her. Taunting she could understand - but lying seemed to be, in itself, an act of cowardice.

Not that she thought this beast of a man to be anything even approaching a coward.

"Aye, I stabbed ye’, and ye’pilfered my things, true - so about even t’be, ah~?” She retorted in her strange accent, taunting him with an almost playful tone of voice and a blood-boiling smirk.

Was she enjoying this?

He assumed a fighting stance that, judging by the quirk of her brow, was unfamiliar, even peculiar to the huntress, who stood stark still, but breathing heavily, and clearly ready to leap at the slightest notice in any direction.

He lunged, again with so shocking a speed that she could hardly believe the girth of his body could move at such a rate. He was on her in an instant, the overwhelming size of the man bearing down on her like a great forest beast.

Her only advantage over him, she knew, was her smaller stature. Even if their speed was matched, she would undoubtedly be the more nimble of the two. She needed to use that advantage to the fullest of her ability, or this was going to end badly for her.

He closed in, again going for the dagger - and this time, he would get it - but not without cost. In a fantastically ungraceful maneuver, the woman practically fell to the floor - knowing that if she were to be caught in the hold he was going for now, there would be no escaping it. She had to avoid capture at all costs, or else fail. In the process, she was able to keep her wrist and neck free, even getting one last slash in the general vicinity of her attacker’s wrist before ultimately fumbling the blade.

Once on the floor - it looked for all intents and purposes as though she had merely stumbled and fallen in a moment of blind luck - the huntress rolled and, moving with almost the exact mannerisms of a feral hunting dog, skirted back, then lunged forth again, aiming for his legs with everything she had. If she could fell the beast, it would be difficult for him to get back up, surely. If she was successful in that and quick enough in proceeding, she might even manage to reclaim the fallen blade and bring it down to within an inch of his neck - but that was pushing it...

The Ark of Chyll

The situation, Corporal Investigator Clégg decided, was developing exactly as he would have imagined.

It was the sort of thing that happened all the time - and he was very well aware of the dangers that could be associated with such a scenario getting out of control.

Luckily, one of the skills in his repertoire was the well-honed ability to not let things get out of control.

Usually.

The duel between the fat cyborg ‘Curbz’ and Shashi was progressing nicely. For a man of that girth, Clégg mused silently, he sure couldn’t hold his liquor. As if to exemplify this to himself, he took a sip of his own drink as tired eyes watched on.

His troublemaker friend had gone forth too, and restrained the skinny, grey-faced man with casual elegance, and delivered a cold promise. His companions seemed barely to care about this, but it did halt their advance, at least.

It was with unpleasant suddenness that the realization hit the old detective - maybe there were more people involved in this whole ordeal than he could really keep track of? Maybe he was going to have to start looking at this more as a mob situation, rather than a collection of individuals? It was dangerous to think that way, but even his own well-trained eyes could look at only so many different things at once. He had no idea what Wick and Alice were up to, and the dogs were out of sight as well...And where was the hacker kid?

As the realization sank in, a muted despair gathered in the old man’s gut. He was suddenly very tired - but outwardly, he looked nothing but amused by the whole ordeal, laid back and cool as ever.

”Maybe in wartime and the Mob, Buggs - but this ain’t-” The Detective muttered, but stopped when he glanced over and realized that the insectoid had apparently passed out again. A frown on his basset-hound face, he ran a weathered hand between scalp and hat, exhaling thoughtfully and flicking idly at the apparently face cigarette which was now slowly dissolving in his glass.

The fat cyborg went down again, and this time did not get back up. It was at that moment in which a number of things happened all at once, none of them good.

Though the offending firearm was silent, the sound of a hefty round firing off into the surface of the bar was anything but. A loud, jarring CRAACK!! with all the ferocity of a gunshot exploded from behind the Detective.

A moment of total chaos followed - and to attempt a logical recreation of those precious, vital seconds would be next to impossible.

Some of the patrons of the bar leaped up, some fleeing out the door.

In the resulting tumult, the larger and brawnier of Grey-Face’s two pals was shoved aside, promptly retaliating at the wrong person by lunging at Alice with an ugly snarl on his ugly face. The shorter of the two yelped, stumbled, and drew a small handgun from his pants, training the sights vaguely on Talis - standing just behind her and at dangerously close range.

The fat cyborg flailed, rolled, and hurled a chair all without actually standing up. The chair flew wildly in the general direction of Jacobo and the dogs, but as to where - or whom - it would inevitably hit was anyone's’ guess.

Perhaps most disturbingly however, was when yet another unruly participant joined in on the fun. An angry, middle-aged man dressed in the same kind of clothing as the other four - lacking the obnoxious S W Y F T cap but clearly in some kind of alliance with them. He leaped to his feet from somewhere and was yanking the blonde kid (Daremo, though he had not given that name) into a hostage hold, arm around the neck and handgun pressed into the back of his head. He babbled something unintelligible in an accent too thick to be understood.

Clégg was the first to respond to this newcomer - he was on his feet with startling speed, already conveniently positioned behind the middle-aged man. He was too close for it to be seen clearly, but doubtless the Detective’s snub-nosed revolver was pressed into the hostage-taker’s back.

His drink, much to Clégg’s distress, lay soaking into the carpet underfoot.

And then, once everyone’s positions had changed - there was stillness. Even the witty old Detective had nothing to say, now...

Tora Station

Tensions could hardly have been higher if bombs were involved.

The way Christofer had smiled at tasting the candied brittlenuts had brought something approaching warmth or delight to Agent Kallenger’s cold, hateful heart - how dare this nosy other Agent come barging in and ruining it! Even casting all the other implications aside - which, of course, Roy was not stupid enough to do - that much would have still bothered her. Couldn’t they just be left in peace?

No, of course not. It was a stupid thing to desire, given their circumstances. Given the circumstances that she had put them in…

Now was not the time. Now, she was staring solid and cold into the eyes of a fellow Imperial Special Agent, awaiting for her to speak her piece. Eager to learn just how this ridiculous situation she had gotten them into was going to play out. Eager to get it over with, one way or another.

She was oblivious to the reasons behind Christofer’s squirming, but not the anxiety itself. Regardless, no move was made to comfort him. If he had tried to move - which he hadn’t - she would have stopped him - but as it was, he was fine. Stay put. Stay quiet. He was a part of their little team, whether he fully understood that or not - she was likely to be taking him into consideration when making any future decisions, whether he was accustomed to that or not - but right now, that did not apply. RIght now, she would have to trust him to do the right thing - which was staying put, and not making assumptions. Right now, two titans of spec-ops training and lifelong ability were staring each other down - one glaring icy daggers, the other smiling an almost perfectly diplomatic smile.

And then, just like that, it all came crashing down.

The other Agent - Dee - would have seen the intruders first, and the flick of her eye would be enough to tip off Agent Kallenger. With incredible speed, Roy was on her feet, whirling on the source of the grating, infuriating voice that already sent chills down her spine. The movement, naturally, had her assuming a defensive stance that kept her between the intruder and Christofer. In a movement as natural to her as walking, she was already reaching for the handgun holstered under her arm - when the decisive snap of a simple folder flapping against her chest halted her in her tracks.

She had gone pale at the sight of him - eyes wide, in an expression that could have been fear or fury, but was most likely a venomous compound of both. For a long time, she stared at the white-haired young man who had been such an influential part of the previous days - yet someone she had never actually expected to see again. Someone she had all but forgotten about until this inconvenient moment. For a long time, she stood like a statue, poised to draw with lightning reflex at any second…

But Royanna Kallenger did not draw. Instead, once she was able to move again, she snatched the folder out of the scientist's claw-hand and frantically rifled through it. Though only giving each page a cursory glance, an expression of blatant, and increasing dread and incredulity fell over her.

She couldn’t believe what she was reading, and yet there it was, plain as day. Even Harry Malbec’s signature - a sigil that was so rare and valuable that only a select few within the Imperial forces knew what it meant at all. It was not the kind of thing to be forged. A pang of rage at the old man shot through her - how dare he do this, and not even send her some kind of message along with it - but there was no use brooding over that. There were more important things to deal with...Such a the mad super-scientist looking so very, very smugly down at her…

Roy gritted her teeth, hard enough for it to be audible in the relative silence of the underused little side-corridor. Kampfer just stood there, seeming to soak up all of her rage and hatred with smug vigor. Then, once he had apparently gotten enough, he proceeded, and shoved the young, dark-skinned man he had been gripping by the arm in her general direction. Instinctively, she she stepped back as if some dangerous insect had come scurrying at her.

”W-what the @#$% am I supposed to do with that!” She demanded, sounding a whole lot more taken-aback than she’d meant to, gesturing with one disdainful arm in the young man’s general direction.

Damn him! She’d felt so in control of the situation - even when the stakes had been raised, she’d felt like she had things taken care of - and then this bastard had to come in and throw her completely off guard!

This couldn’t be happening. This was insane.

And yet there he was - there they were - the insane doctor and some bratty kid holding some small appliance or something… Madness - and yet…

She wanted desperately to glance toward the other Agent, to discern whether or not she had had any involvement in all of this - but she resisted, keeping eyes locked on Kampfer, only letting them flick to the young man for briefest intervals...

     Throughout the cosmically insignifant amount of time spent inside the mortal coil of this universe, he were always troubled by the fabrications of the psyche. Not limited to the human minds, but for all sapient beings as a whole.
     Severin was a creature of reason. His views were founded on the absolute truths of life, leaving no room for fantastic images made by beings who cannot understand said truths. There was no prophet, divine neither holy. What 'little' physical proof that was thoroughly presented to him, however, only made him hate these fabrications even more. Higher beings trying to meddle in 'mortal' affairs. Adults taking candy away from children. For no apparent logical reason, if there was even one.

     Of course, one might be turned blinded by the unforgiving glow of absolute truth. So was Severin in his last moments inside the Kingsbane.


     — ... Wanheed? — The image of the Captain was the first thing that appeared in his head in response to the lush scenery that he was instantly - unabruptly - brought upon. His goggles might have been tricked to display said scenery, perhaps. However, at the moment he reached his hand to take them off, Severin inhaled a lungful from the unfiltered air of a space faring vessel. Then the determined, yet frightened grasp of the Girl. A gust of unadulterated air hit his ancient face and made the Girl's head flow with the current.
     Now it was Severin who was hit with the force of a nuclear detonation. He tried to push himself forward towards one of the windows, just to be startled at a loud cracking below his shoes, as glass shards crunched beneath. He halted, clicking on his goggles multiple times. Unresponsive at all of them. Even though the battery was potent enough to last an entire week once fully charged. Not even the warning light of said dead battery flashed anymore. It's power had been fully drained.
     Once again, he tried to walk forward towards the broken window, carefuly, as if the glass were landmines.

     Severin never though he would see a place like this in his life. Let alone in with his advanced age. Part of him were oblivious of which fates were in hold for Wan Nabes and his men. Neither for his research personnel. Severin looked at the sky, kept filling his lungs with an air he forgot it existed. His concealed slowly gazed upon the vegetation that had invaded the ruins, only for him to remember the reasons of his ultimate scientific endeavor: The peace encountered here.
     — 'Peace.' - He uttered, patting on the Girl's shoulder, when, if she looked at him, the same smile would be upon his face.
     Wan Nabes was uneducated when it came to diplomacy, or convicing spacecraft much bigger than the Kingsbane from blowing it to atomic dust, but Severin knew who he was. Nobody could not disagree that Wanheed was a commanded who would go down as a hero and rebel in the books. He could handle himself without Severin's guide. For the old scientist would have a lot of time in his hands, in this new unhabited world.
     That is, assuming they were even at the same time period where they left.
     He helped himself to office he found himself in, darting his concealed eyes all around, every so often looking back at the Girl gesturing her that old familiar wave.
     — 'Come!'

---

     — Critical Warning.
     Immediately, Wan Nabes was up on his chair, crushing a fat cigar under his teeth and hand on the Cutlass. — 'Fo <****>'s sake! 'Wat's it 'naye?! — It was uncommong for the Supercomputer to announce warnings in the event of Fracture. It was a tested, one hundred percent secure procediment and all side-effects were minimally psychological, if there was even any.
     — ... Weapons recalibration complete. Targeting efficiency up to a factor of four.
     ... But nothing else in this world made Wan Nabes grin so wide such as hearing about a succesful upgrade on the weapons of his mighty Heavy Artillery Cruiser. He particularly adored that Indra relayed said info out in the public channels, just so all the crew could be aware of how well armed they were.
     — Why, 'fank 'yo 'verry much, Indra!

     In the opposite end of the Kingsbane, however, armory engineers were dazzled. There was no actual change in any aiming algorithm for the main guns, neither point-defense turrets. But they did not know either, that the Kingsbane's crew now were down by two.
     And even the research personnel were too busy to notice the professor's absence. In fact, the few who tried to noticed it, just figured out he left to guide that strange girl somewhere.
     The Supercomputer almost took to long to notice that the two crew missing were Severin and that Alien Lifeform.

     But something was left disappointed.

Abandoned City She knew not what this word ’Wanheed’ meant, nor did it stand out to her. If she’d heard it before, it had not stuck out to her.

What was she afraid of? That her Prophet - or, rather, this man who so reminded her of the Prophet that had once been so kind, in that other life - would be angry with her for stopping him from whatever foolhardy endeavor he had been trying to embark upon?

Yes, that was what she was afraid of. After all, in her experience those who must be protected from themselves usually resented the protector. She had been a hindrance to their lofty goals. If she received a solid smack, that would be expected. She would take it.

But she was not struck.

Instead, he only uttered a second word, and the inflection with this one brought to mind a very different meaning. He sounded almost contented. Relieved, even.

The girl could not hope to understand this. There were too many variables, and she had never been that clever to begin with, nor insightful. All that mattered now were two things; that he was safe, and, apparently, pleased.

It made her finally open her eyes, and at first she saw only the leathery fabric of his jacket. Then she pulled away enough to look up at him, and ‘lo - he was smiling.

It made her return a smile that was positively delighted.

Only then did she notice that which the man had perceived already - their strange, new environment.

It took her long seconds to register what she was looking at, glancing about the room with increasing rapidity. The floors, carpeted with lush moss. The walls, their paint long gone and surfaces cracked with age, but each crack seeming to be filled with the creeping life of centuries. Breaking away from the old man, the girl too stepped toward the gaping window, first slowly and hesitantly. Then with a sudden burst of energy and all the nimbleness of some tiny, tree-dwelling mammal, she hopped into the windowsill, grabbing on to the side almost as an afterthought.

Perched there on the edge, the girl leaned out the window, looking down at the dizzying heights, then scanning the horizon. The crumbling buildings, most carpeted in verdant green, creeping ivies and speckled wildflowers. A gust of wind blew at her and she passively capped one hand atop her head to keep the incongruous black baseball cap rooted there.

”W-woah.”

It was all she could say, and all she needed to.

She, like him, had never expected to see such a place. It was clearly not the world that had once constituted her home - and was not that the only world there ever was?

So then, what was this mysterious, beautiful place? Presently she was too stricken with awe to even wonder about it - to even consider the incredible thing she had witnessed in the no-time between their transit.

She was still surveying the mystifying landscape when the old one turned to proceed with exploring the innards of the ruin. His word - definitely one of her favorites now, and she rather hoped the opportunity would arise soon for her to use it properly - startled her enough to set her off-kilter, making her windmill her arms for a moment before hopping back down off the window ledge.

Not that she seemed bothered by this at all. Not even peeved.

Scampering back in his direction, she stopped abruptly as if suddenly noticing an incredible, vital detail. It was, however, merely a leaf - one of many like it, that hung down from the strands of ivy which covered the ceiling. This one, though, hung low enough that she, with her short stature, could touch it.

Standing on her toes, the girl leaned in to examine the leaf closely, brushing her fingers across the smooth, green surface with a reverence equal almost to worship. Ever so gently, she took the leaf in her fingers, and rubbed her thumb softly back and forth, eyes wide, savoring the feeling of it.

The funny thing was that even back then, even in the other life - she had not been exceptionally fond of nature.

Now though, after having become accustomed to a world - nay, a universe that was devoid of such memories? It was heavenly to feel this natural thing in her fingers.

The pair would find, as they explored the ruin, that it was not terribly dark, despite every artificial light having been long, long since shattered and blown away - for there were many windows - or, rather, open spaces where windows had once been - and around every corner there was at least a redeeming shaft of light to guide their way. In the corners and crevices where shadow did lie, little mushrooms and miscellaneous fungi grew. In the tracks where light passed daily with the sun’s persistent cycle, taller plant grew, stretching their little leaves, like tiny, innocent hands, toward the life-giving star above.

The girl tread with great care, making sure never to step on such a plant, walking softly even on the carpet of green that covered the whole of the floor, with only small gaps to show that it was indeed a man-made structure beneath.

The desks and chairs, separated by partitions that might once have been cubicles, were so decayed as to be virtually unrecognizable. Other minute remnants of furniture remained against walls and in corners, but were similarly obscured by immense age and neglect - yet somehow it was not a sight of sadness, or even melancholy.

Rather, as the man had already said, it was peace.

There were no hints of violence here, no suggestions of the civilization which had once dwelt in this place having been overcome by some tragedy. It was simply an abandoned place - a place that nature had long since taken to reclaiming as time drifted endlessly, endlessly forward.

Early on, it would become readily apparent that all normal means of descent had been cut off, since the elevators were obviously out of commission and the only apparent set of stairs had crumbled into inaccessibility. This would not hinder their exploration, however - as if the old man wanted to go down, she would simply take his hand and move them, in less than an instant, to the next level down. Or, if he wanted to go up, the would go up.

They could go up to the rooftop, if he wanted - and gaze out at a vista of infinite majesty, with high mountains surrounding the abandoned city on three sides, and water on the fourth. They could see the sky, wide as the Galaxy itself, streaked with fantastical jade-green clouds. A friendly, brilliant yellow sun that peeked playfully around them - even birds that flew across the sky, crying distant songs as they went. Seemingly unable to comprehend what those distant shapes were, the girl would narrow her eyes to examine them, but they would be gone before she could really figure it out. If from there, the old man wanted to go anywhere at all - he would need only point, and the girl would take his hand, and they would be there in less than an instant, traveling any distance in no time at all. They could go to the peaks of the mountains, or to the streets far below, or to the edge of the water beyond the city - she would bring him there without question, complaint or hesitation.

Or, if he so wished, they could go down. Down through the ancient skyscraper, through floor upon floor of what had once been offices or the like, until they reached the bottom. A high-vaulted lobby, ancient chairs and couches and coffee tables crumbled to shadows of their former selves, greenery overtaking all surfaces. The ruins of a crumbled adjacent structure blocking much of the groundside view, but with several large picture-windows long since broken away allowing for an easy access to the street. Too, the street was littered with hunks of brown, dirt and moss encrusted metal - the remains of ancient cars that were of the almost universally accepted design. There were storefronts, windows gone, wares nonexistent, with only mouldering shelves that sagged within - greenery and life encroaching, overtaking, overcoming, engulfing. The trickle of a stream could be heard, where some small body of water had worked it’s way down through the mountains, through the buildings and onward to places unknown.

Down here, the faintest glimpse of some harmless, deer-like critter could be seen out of the corner of the eye - it would startle the fascinated girl into looking that way, only to be let down when the source of the movement had escaped her vision.

But nothing would dampen the girl’s spirits now.

There was a childlike fascination with everything - every minuscule detail. Every leaf or sheaf of brush or fiber of growth - every alien structure, every weird hunk of metal or brittle wall - there was nothing in this place that was not absolutely enchanting to her - and, likely to some degree, him as well.

How far, truly, was this place of serenity from all the ghastly trials and tribulations the Universe now faced…?

For truly it seemed that all the troubles in the Galaxy might be a billion lightyears away...

Christofer stayed, like his tail was demanding of him, sitting down on the stool. Politely not staring at the two agents, his attention could be elsewhere even as his thoughts were active and running all around different subjects and tangents found from the furthest corners of his still somewhat imperfectly working memories. But like some wanted to call 'dog sleep' as something where the dog could wake up in an instant if it heard or sensed something was wrong, so was Christofer's mind at last half operated and alerted to anything that may have come up if Royanna needed support or aid.

The source of his ears perking up and his body tensing wouldn't be Dee though, but a 'familiar not so familiar' Kampfer, whose name he didn't really even remember but face he could not forget. Whoever was with the white haired man would only get the swiftest of glances, his existence being shoved to the side rather speedily as his frowning glare was upon the man he bit not too long ago.
Wonder if he still remembers.
He better, as one of Christofer's first thoughts was to snarl lightly. Nothing to alert the restaurant owner but enough to let the two agents know that they had company, as well as perhaps remind Kampfer that He was there too and he would bite harder than bark if he tried anything. Fangs were still there, hopefully he wouldn't have to remind the other man about that.

Sure he was being ignored by the other, but if Kallenger moving did not direct any attention to him on top of any of that, then so be it. He wouldn't mind if he'd have the perfect opportunity to blindside the other man even if his presence was clear.
Canid did not move a whole lot, but with Kallenger moving, even if in the manner to step in between to protect him as her thought, Christofer took it more like the situation when you noticed your dog looking in a direction very intensively and you stepping on the way was either an attempt of snapping them out of it or to get the situation solved in some other way. And he did like some dogs would, try anything to look past her to keep his eyes locked on the target.
Getting up from the seat but not stepping anywhere a couple centimeters further from his place, he'd stand on his toes if that's what it required from him to look over Royanna's shoulder. He wouldn't read the files, hardly understanding what they contained if he tried. He had felt the extreme urge to smack Kampfer's arm away at the hasty movement without a warning, however, if he started a scene that'd do none of them any good. If a situation could be solved with just words that'd be good, always better, but he just could not trust this man. File was left alone though, but Kampfer was not.

With a somewhat cold gaze, his tail having a slight irritated movement at the tip of it, he could get some more hostile feel to himself. Sure, ignore him, but he would not ignore you. Royanna may have a contract binding her, but technically the same contract did not apply to him. He had not signed anything other than a spoken loyalty to the woman - perhaps a little more than that - but for all law following and obeying things, if he chose to kick anyone's bottom he was free to do that on his own account and the blame would fall on no-one else but him and the aggressor that taunted him.
Aggravated wagging, he did not like the situation. So much for a calm end of the day...

Tora Station

Kampfer merely kept his grin seeing how jumpy everyone was. Julian gritted his teeth and says "Yeah, pleasure to meet you too" as he hears her rather rude statement towards him. Kampfer looks down at him and says "I'm surprise, you haven't yelled at her to rip her guts or something like that" he chuckles. Julian gave a puzzled look at Kampfer and says "That's a woman!? I thought that she was man!" the small brown kid shifted over closer to Toffi, but he saw a good profile of Kallenger and notice barely the two little lumps on her chest. "Oh I see it now...not very well endowed uh?" he asks honestly as he looks at her as Kampfer held his mouth as he kept crackling, before reaching for Julian and pull him closer to him.

"Zis boy currently is named Julian, however he is more vell known as ze Knight of Death or Nocturnus. I need you to...babysit him" he then takes out a device out his hand and tosses it in the direction of the busy hallway which put up a projection to shield them. "Don't vorry, zis is only for demonstration purposes" he states with a sly grin as he pulls out another device with a nob on it and turns it. Before there eyes Julian began to change, his entire being blackened and got large and soon before them stood the infamous Dark Knight, laden in full black plated armor with a hint of dark purple, his red ghostly eyes being seen from the slit of his helmet with a purple plume at top. His very aura, bring fear to most who stands within his presence. "I AM NOCTURNUS! GUARDIAN OF LORD OVA! FEAR ME!" the knight spoke with its deep voice full of darkness.

He still held the toaster in his hands, but because of his size, the toaster seemed really small. "AHAHAHAHAHAH I CAN SPEAK CLEARLY ONCE MORE! TREMBLE, UNIVERSE, BEFORE MY ELECTRIC HEATING COILS!!!" the toaster spoke. Kampfer rolled his eyes "Yes he befriended an evil toaster". "Your mission Kallenger is to just keep an eye on him and do not hand him over to Ovian forces" he then chuckles a little more "Plus unlike your last squad, you can't really get zis one killed" as he knocks his metal knuckle on the knights armor. "He's slow, but he is almost invulnerable to most attacks...he's even faced the Devil Eye" a smug smile came to him knowing that piece of info should peak her interest if she wasn't peeing her pants. "Zis isn't only my mission, but also orders from Malbec since we both understand ze zreat Ova poses and once she is dealt vith, ve vill go after Erica and stomp ze Dendrils out of existence" he walks closer to her and hands her the device he used earlier. "Zis device vill allow to change from zis from to his more human form vhenever you need to. Don't lose it" he warns her as he hands it to her. "He von't harm you since he vears the collar vhich prevents any hostile action against you or anyone in your gang" he adds

"Any questions?"

Christofer frowned a little upon the interaction. Yes yes, children are innocent, children spoke out what was in their mind without thinking... But... Well. This was a whole new era, things could be different. But how many knee height little people cared about what was on your chest? Not an awful lot. So... Ears still facing the back of him, the canid was doubtful, perhaps a little too reserved and judgmental when he came to the thought of this kid is tainted. Hearing words about death and all that did not do any good for the other party either. Suspicion was rising.

They shouldn't be dealing with that. Royanna Kallenger was on her own personal mission right now, and she was returning to the base to report on it. Right? That's how it worked. He wasn't trusting Kampfer or his words, nor the papers he himself hadn't read.
Tail kept the slight irritated movement to it, but while he was fine with Royanna punching someone, understanding that she might be touchy, he'd still likely try to grab her and hold her back, hoping to negotiate with words instead and save the punches for later. It was not good for one's health to do things right after eating.
Speaking of which, he was not going to share the nuts with these people.....

The canid actually let some light whimper like sound escape his throat at the sound of 'babysitting', mouth wasn't open though, so likely the only one hearing would be Royanna who stood the closest to him, and whom he cast a somewhat sad look at.
"That's not your job though. You can't do that." Trying to find all sorts of reasons to oppose it and null the request, politely but, just... Anything. Anything would do right now. Especially as Julian got loud. God forbid. "You'd... you'd need like a licence or something? Right? You have no training nor interest, you can decline it. It's not like they could pay you either. Right..?" Reasons, more of them.

Oh yeah... And of course, like a good old fashion vintage commercial... There was more.
Canid covered his ears at the loud noice, ears low and partly glued to the sides of his head as he hunched a little bit. Nope. Nope. Call him rude but. I'm not dealing with this s***.
If Kallenger so much as looked in his direction he'd give her some puppy eyes to strengthen his own cause and shook his head, hands still over ears. Oh, he could beg and plead if he wanted to. Pity him, you shall. He wasn't sure if that'd work on Kampfer, so he'd have to try hone his acting skill a little more.
The biggest reason why he could stay at least somewhat calm was because of the presence of Royanna. He had a lot of trust in her, and he wouldn't need to fear as long as she was around. She was good at her job, right? So what was there for him to doubt? They had made it so far.

The situation having 'calmed down' again, he could stand to get his back straight again and ears to point upwards, dropping the uncomfortable look he had on himself a moment prior, gaze now upon Kampfer who was still on his naughty list.
"Questions? Oh. Well. Perhaps." He started nice and innocent enough, though with enough strength in his voice to demand at least some attention to those nearby. No shouting, but it was clear enough for all to be heard. "Like... Can you like maybe Leave us alone." Straight and full on polite passive aggressive. Not exactly a question anymore, rather a request.
Looking towards Kallenger then, while still keeping his position behind her for the most part "We don't Have to take them with us, right? And we can just... Call a police or some guard or something to take care of it? Right? There's nothing binding us." He had not read the papers, the files, but he was very much naive and hopeful for any kinda sorta loop hole that there was. There was already so much that confused him and required his attention, having to look after other people was not exactly something he wanted to do now. Yes, usually he was friendly and open to help but... This was an enemy - or at least Kampfer classified as one due to the hostility before - and he had had his share of enemies for sure during his life, short as it was.
You could tell which side he was on.

Daremo was completely still.

If it wasn’t for the steady breaths he was taking, one would have thought that he was nothing but a life-like statue. The gun was pressed just so to the back of his head, arm pressing onto his neck like a yoke.

His hair had fallen over his eyes, hiding them from view. His mouth was pursed in a thin, neutral line, not giving any emotion away. His hands were curled into fists, hanging by his sides.

“You don’t want to do that.”

His voice didn’t shake at all. He was, surprisingly, completely and utterly calm. Too calm. He shifted, and whoever was in front of him could see that his eyes were not wide with fear- they were iced over with rage.

“You really…”

Something slid out of his hoodie.

“Really…”

The thing started to slither behind the man, giving the detective full view of its metallic, lizard-like body, which was slowing increasing in size.

”Don’t.”

Daremo’s arm darted up and grabbed ahold of the gun on his neck and ducked over his own arm to turn-

-With the barrel of the handgun directed right at the man’s gut.

He didn’t give the man the chance to recover, ripping the gun out of the man's grasp and throwing the gun out of reach, eyes wild and unhinged.

There was a warm breath behind the unarmed man.

A snout, to be precise, with sharp crests on its cheeks, attached to a ridged neck, a gleaming body with arms and legs and claws, wickedly sharp, a tail that swayed in motion with wings spread out, covered in metallic feathers and yeah that’s. That’s a dragon.

Well not a real one but it was definitely. Modeled. After. One.

And the man could clearly see Daremo’s one blue eye- the one surrounded by the silver tattoo- was glowing a bit.

Daremo drew a holocard and held it up. Judgement.

“Do you want it?” Daremo said, voice a complete monotone.

Cornfield



Rin shook his head, dashing any hopes for an alternate plan. “I don’t see what else we can do,” he said, rubbing the arm that was supposed to have a gash. “If we go to any of the public spaces, and someone does see us…” he trailed off, but the meaning was clear.

“Golden-Lochs and the Three Bugbears?” He hummed a little, starting to make his way down the hill, steps light and almost soundless. “My mother told me several children’s tales when I was young, one of which was similar.” He looked up at Ty, and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “One of the lessons I got from the story was that it’s a bad idea to break into a house, regardless if it’s empty, but I believe in this case that it’s for the best.”

He looked out toward the small town again, and spotted the same estranged building that Ty was eyeing earlier. “Looks far enough away from the rest,” he murmured.

---

Swamp

”Hey, any chance you could use that aether-stuff to light this?”

Rai didn’t even think- ze snapped a finger, and a spark turned into a good-sized campfire. Ze felt the exhaustion creep a little bit more into hir limbs, but ze ignored it, not paying any mind to the sharp look Reqti shot hir.

And as for Reqti-

He wasn’t sure if it was the general flora or fauna of the place, but he was sure that someone was watching them.

There was a faint heaviness in his temples that was constant, and he could have sworn that he saw… something. Heard something.

He didn’t blame Rai for not noticing; ze was exhausted already. Ze didn’t need to worry about something he can handle himself.

And when they sat down to finally rest, he didn’t think; he went right behind the Nyran and dragged hir between his legs, putting hir head on his chest. Rai, thankfully, didn’t resist.

And if Sands looked at him weirdly, he didn’t look back.

They sat there for a while. Rai was already dozing, the steady rise and fall of hir chest a comfort to the Qetan. Physically, he was as relaxed as he could get, but his mind was on high alert. He saw Sands staring blankly at the fire, and silently pledged to take first watch.

”Should probably hold ‘till morning.”

Reqti looked at the other man; before he could tell him to sleep while he took watch, movement in the trees made him whip his head toward the sound, arms tensing. Rai started to stir, and he absently hushed hir; he didn’t want to hinder hir rest.

It was some sort of animal, with antlers. That explains the weight on my head, he thought to himself, just before it vanished out of sight.

Well. Not completely. His Kiinri eyes were able to make out the outline of a humanoid creature, where the strange creature once was. Perhaps a shapeshifter…

“Nobody comes near the swamps much anymore…”

A pause. Then-

“People are scared of this place these days. Talk of witches and monsters. Why are you here then? Looking for treasure? Rare plants or animals? Come to vanquish some evil beast to get praise? Or perhaps you're not from around here and don't know about the stories? Are you lost?”

Reqti fell silent. He almost wished Tahil were here- she would know what to say.

He never was good with words.

”That impact last night must have caused quite a stir,” Sands said. Like he was thinking of the right words to say. ”We’re looking for the other ones.”

Silence. Then, as if nothing was wrong: ”Also, uh, did you all see that terrifying deer-thing or was that just me?”

“I believe you are speaking to the ’terrifying deer-thing,’” Reqti said helpfully. The amusement in the statement was not obvious- but it was there, for any or none to catch.

---

City

Vaxur grimaced at the destruction around him. What might have been once, a city brimming with liveliness and teeming with loveliness, was stripped down to its core- and then some. Fires and corpses littered the streets like a plague, with crazed shouts piercing the grey air with startling clarity.

The farther they went, the less it was- though he still looked away from the bloodstained walls, the dirty alleys. Too much death- and for what? He tried to chuckle, but came out as a choke. Gods. This was all their fault, wasn’t it?

Wyr placed a hand on his shoulder- not to steady, but to ground him. The firm weight of it was comforting. “None of this was our doing,” she said, double-tone quiet enough to pass off as one.

He shrugged. Maybe, maybe not…

“We must regroup, and find out what made us crash,” she said, then marched forward, taking a silently sulking Tahil with her.

Vaxur pursed his lips, turned to look over Dal- she looked okay, no visible injuries- and walked a bit faster.

And then they were at the edge of an ocean.

They all stopped to look over at the docks, eyeing the great boats and breathing in the salt of the seas. One ship, quite unlike the others, seemed to catch all of their attention.

“What now?” Tahil asked. It was the first question she’d asked since they’d crashed that was actually relevant enough to warrant an answer.

     JADED WORLD

     A hardship was brought upon Severin: was he supposed to witness the Girl's reaction or be left to his own devices? Have his own mind wander into the alien wonder of jade skies, paired with an image of ruined civilization? His head turned away from the would-be windows, to face the Girl. His attention was immediately glued to how observant she was for a plain leaf. Though a slightest move the clouds did, was all enough to take his eyes back outside.
     Soon, his sight would be led astray to the tall buildings. The streets nexts and, at last, the intense vegetation that surrounded the city. Severin was not a man bound to his human instincts, but there was an immense urge he almost fell for: attempt to convince the Girl to use her powers and take them somewhere else. Anywhere. It was arduous, however, he emerged victorious from that well-justified impulse. For the time being, Severin decided to stick around, and just enjoy what humble offers nature had for them.

     Even though he watched the Girl's discovery of a complex photosynthesistic organism with serious intent, he could not control the chuckle from such inhumane naivety. And there was this alluring mossy growth beside Severin that was dragging his curiosty towards it, with every passing second. The Girl eventually noticed the old man with that same curiosity she had, rubbing fingertips at moss, instead.
     She was not the only one who lived in formidable isolation, away from a green world. One thing was having knowledge from books - either holographic or chornea-displayed - about flora and fauna. Interacting with such was an experience by it's own, one that the astrophysicist was not used to.
     Surprisingly.

— 'Leaf' — Plucking one growing in a branch nearby, he held it up, presenting to the Girl. — 'Moss' — Then Severin would run his hand over the green puffy texture he was just analyzing. Afterwards, in contrast to her absolute cautiousness, he had let go from the leaf and turned himself to the sky and pointing at it, still looking at his friend.
     — 'Sky!' — He exclaimed, opening his arms wide at the jaded expanse. — 'Cloud'! — This time he pointed towards the jaded wooly strucutures slowly moving across the sky, focusing his finger on one of them.
     And he sounded ecstactic, for Severin had just recalled when the Girl had recited his whole audio-diary entry without any flaws, after just listening for it once.
     A creature that can teletransport itself to any point in space and is able to'record' anything with machine accuracy? Severin couldn't even fathom how much potential she had. It made the professor excited. He felt a shared thirst for knowledge, and he wanted to air her on knowing this brave new world even more, and at the same time, making him learn even more.
     However, ultimately, Severin did not forget how that alien species, or the Girl's very lone self, could be the catalyst for the many crisis that have stricken mankind. And that Severin for so long dreamed of averting.

     Such potential was under his command.

     After she had enough time to reflect and relish the meaning those newly presented words, she would have his comforting touch once again on her shoulder.
     — 'Down' — He smiled, pointing a finger down. To the floor. At the same time, Severin tried his best to mentalize the idea of traversing through the structure of the building at meta-relativistic speeds. Towards the first level.

New Vegas

The night - for it was always nighttime in such a place of vice and debauchery - proceeded on exactly as planned. The loud music, the bright lights, the good company and, of course, the copious sums of alcohol - Ketin Clarke was in his element.

It was hip-swaying and bedroom-eyes all the way between him and the young fellow who was apparently Lord over this sinful dominion, and clearly the two of them were going to end up in bed together - quite probably with a whole bunch of others, too. He had not been in the thick of it long enough for the drugs to come out, but doubtless they would if given enough time. The Galaxy had too many varieties of feel-goods and giggle-grasses for such a roaring party not to produce at least a couple.

It truly was incredible just how much alcohol the small-statured guy could ingest, and in so short a period of time…

He was doing what he had always done best - forgetting all his troubles, and burying them beneath layer upon layer of poor decisions. All was the moment now, and the moment was life. Living vicariously through narcotics and mind-altering substances, drowning himself in so overwhelming a sensory-overload that dark or brooding thoughts were impossible.

Except this time, Ketin realized numbly, was different.

This time he did not have so much that needed forgetting.

In truth, things had been going well enough for him, mostly thanks to his recent company. For the first time in as long as the Fox could remember, he had found someone with whom he felt truly safe and at home. Though the definition of ‘family’ had been long ago skewed in his mind and his natural instinct was to shy away from such commitment, there was no doubting that the Eoclu was indeed something very close to family. And though he had only known Arnaldo for a short period of time, he, too was already beginning to feel like a welcomed addition.

Was he weakening? Was he, having allowed one person in too close, now more susceptible to letting others do the same?

If so, he was in for a Galaxy of hurt - but perhaps this, too was simply more self-destructive behavior.

None of that mattered.

And yet, even as he drank and danced and gave everyone in sight the ’@#$%-me-eyes’, the realization that he was not actively trying to forget or bury his troubles lingered in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure how it made him feel. Uncomfortable, on some perverse level?

Of course, it was not going to stop him from indulging in vice just as he had always done. The Skylar fellow was pretty damned attractive, and there was no shortage of other beautiful guys and gals in the immediate area. The liquor was exquisite and true, there was some stress relief to be had from the trying latter days.

To stay for eternity?

Not long ago, Ketin Clarke would have taken up the offer in a heartbeat. If he’d had a soul, he’d have sold it in an instant and damned himself to a perpetual fog of ecstasy and drunkenness. Now, though? Now he was not so sure - even as the liquor flowed and the music boomed and the lights pulsed. Even as the ‘good-mind’ high of being surrounded by living brains carried him along on wave after wave of cloud-nine delight, a part of him wondered, and yet strayed.

He was enjoying himself though, that much was obvious, and he did not show any signs of wanting to call it quits any time soon. What would a few hours - or days - be, in the scheme of things? He had a whole lot of time, after all - and no real commitments - right?

When, some time later, Ketin excused himself to the bathroom, one would have had no reason to think anything of it. Perhaps he was going to go vomit so that he could continue drinking, or maybe he did just need a moment of silence. Regardless, there was no doubt that he would return promptly and continue indulging the endless night away. There was no reason for the Dimensional Lord of Vice to think that this insignificant thing would end up causing him a whole lot of trouble and put him in deep water.

Muttering about how he would be right back into Skylar’s ear and tracing a playfully seductive finger down the other’s shoulder, Ketin slipped away from the crowd and the bulk of the festivities, making his way down one of a seemingly infinite number of side-passages and corridors that wound through the great Dimension like so many nerve endings.

---

LoneWorld

Farming Village

Ty glanced to the spot on the arm that Rin was rubbing at, but did not let his gaze linger.

Yes, something was off about Rin, and Ty had his suspicions - but now was not the time to speculate. He decided against making a passive comment about how surprise he was that both of them had come out of it without any injuries, though just such a comment had come to mind.

The pair approached the house and, upon closer inspection, would be able to make out a faded sign mounted upon the wall that read ’Storehouse’. Ty pointed it out if Rin failed to notice.

It was promising, to Ty’s way of thinking. It would probably be better for them to go breaking into a storage building rather than someone’s home.

And, as it happened, he was right.

The shuttered window at the back of the building, out of sight of the packed-earth road and any other reasonable vantage points, did not boast any such technology as ’glass panes’ or ’locks - it was merely a matter of gently rattling the wooden shutters until the simple block-latch on the other side intended for keeping them closed against wind fell open. Ty swung them aside, and hopped nimbly through.

What they found on the other side was, indeed, a storehouse. Though the only light was that which streamed in through the slits in the shutters, one could see well enough to identify stocks of supplys ranging from food and water, to clothing and tools. The rough-hewn, but timeworn floorboards creaked softly underfoot and the gentle, inoffensive sent of must hung thin in the air. It was clearly a place that was not visited often, and it seemed likely that anything pilfered from within would not be particularly missed.

Between his casual familiarity with military life and his almost irritatingly attractive body, Ty did not hesitate nor think twice about stripping to the buff in order to use a cloth, dampened with water from one of the huge, spigoted barrels stacked against one wall to wash off the grime from their recent ‘adventures’.

With that out of the way, he rummaged respectfully through stacks of clothing upon wooden shelves, deciding on a flowy, cream-white tunic with arms that tapered at the cuffs and dark canvas trousers that fit a little more tightly. His boots however, were still too useful to discard - as such he located a simple pair of dark leather wraparounds and snapped them on over the ankles, obscuring the majority of features that would really distinguish them from ye-olde-travelers-boots. One would have to examine the treads to tell the difference, and it seemed likely that anyone in such a position to do so would already be involved with much bigger problems.

”So...now what?” He said quietly, once both of them had finished and made themselves look presentable to a primitive culture. ”Check out the town, I guess…?”

Yes, Ty decided - he would not mention the wounds he was now quite sure should have been there...but were not.

Not yet.

---

City

Feeling his eyes on her, Dallen Armston tensed and made a point not to return the look. Her grip on the old hatchet tightened and she, too walked just a little bit faster.

In truth, she did not know to what extent she had influenced their hurtling crash - and it was not a subject she seemed keen to discuss.

She was a talented, though inexperienced pilot. Inexperience made things tricky, especially when they hit a metaphorical fan.

To dispel some of her nervous energy, the woman abruptly smacked the end of the hatchet into a nearby wall - the resulting crack startled a peasant who was doing space knew what slightly farther down the road into glancing their way, then promptly fleeing into an alley. It seemed intentional - so at least whatever anger, resentment and possibly guilt was welling up inside her was not coming out in the form of rampant bloodlust - so that was good.

Arriving at the seaside, Dal took only a brief moment so survey the surroundings. Halting for hardly a dozen seconds, she continued on wordlessly toward the one ship that did not look like the others...The one upon which someone seemed to be perched.

It did look like just about the safest place around. As they grew closer, the vessel began to resemble one of the ancient ‘ironsides’, but crossed with some kind of steam-powered tugboat. It hung low in the water with a boxy bow and a wide, flat cabin toward the back - behind which stood dual smokestacks towering stoutly over a steamboat-style motor.

It was painfully clear what Dal was thinking.

The ship looked practically like a little floating tank - though with no apparent, visible armaments - and if whoever was standing on the bow got in her way, they wouldn’t be there long. She wasn’t screwing around.

But...She could possibly just want to talk, right? After all, if that really was someone just standing there, perhaps they were not afflicted with the same hysteria as the rest of the city? Maybe they could be reasoned with?

Admittedly, this seemed unlikely.

Purposefully, she navigated crates and barrels, banking down to sea level where the great piers shot out into the sea. As they went, the soothing sound of waves washing up upon docks and distant seabirds became the primary backdrop. As the many boardwalks turned into but one, one could look out at the sea none the wiser to the burning city behind them.

It became apparent that the person standing on the bow was a man - his skin leathery tan, hair dark with flecks of silvery grey, with bushy brows and a hefty mustache that covered his lips almost completely. His face was long and weathered, eyes dull grey-green, and his clothing consisting of simple workman’s attire - a kind of beige tunic, with dark pants and boots.

The most curious aspect of the old man, however, was what he was doing...Or, rather, what he was not doing. That he was indeed not afflicted with the hysterical frenzy shared by the majority was clear. In fact, as he stood upon the bow of his gently bobbing ship with hands in pockets, impassively watching the city go up in flames before him with an expression of almost comical indifference, it became apparent that he was not at all concerned with the destruction taking place before him.

It was not until the group was close enough to distinguish these features that he even noticed them - and incredibly, when he did turn toward the approaching newcomers, his deadpan indifference was only parted by a curious lifting of one brow.

As if to say, with only the mildest interest ’what on earth is that?’

There was another important detail revealed by his movement - some kind of gun, likely an ancient flintlock pistol, hung from a low-slung holster on his hip. He did not reach for it, however, even as his mildly-interested gaze flicked from one fantastical alien to the next. He did not seem the least bit threatened.

Which was, of course, given the circumstances - absolutely insane.

When they were close enough that raised voices could reasonably be used to communicate, he slowly raised one hand and gave them a little wave - just a cock of the wrist. "Ho’, starfolken!” He called, with the exact same inflection as if instead saying ’howdy, neighbor!’

This made Dallen stop in her tracks, and look intensely up at him. The boat looked bigger now that they were close enough to see the gangplank hoisted up away from the pier.

With absolutely no idea how to respond to the precise last thing she had expected to come out of the man’s mouth, Dal remained momentarily speechless.

The old man stuck his hand back into his pocket, and returned his deadpan gaze back to the burning city, with plumes of black smoke billowing up hither and thither.

"Quite a sight, aye? Wouldn’ fancy ’be yonder, all’s true, no sah’.”

His accent was strange - primitive in a way, but not unintelligent. It was a meandering sort of speech, with the R’s pronounced as ‘ah’, H’s often inserted when there were none, and many words dragged out without becoming a drawl. ‘Aye’ was said like ’Aaii’ and would prove to be one of the most prevalent words in what the group would later learn was the ’midsouthern accent’.

There was another moment of stunned silence on Dallen’s part - she just stood there, eyes wide and uncomprehending at the sight of the man and his incredible nonchalance. Then he glanced back in their direction. "Sai’ye’ must’a come down city centah’, aye? Reckon’s about wheah’ ye’come down… Rough walk I reckon.” As if he were commenting on the weather, or a Sunday drive.

And still, Dal remained speechless. The old man did not seem to mind, of course.

+NEW VEGAS+

Getting to his room, Dhari waits for the door to slide closed and hears the lock clicking. At last his facade can come off. He leaned against the inside of the door and slowly slid down. Much like he normally did whenever he knew no one was coming to disturb him. Closing his piercing yellow eyes that glowed, he let out a quiet sigh. The expressions on his face only reflecting what he normally held back and kept hidden from everyone - the deep sadness of a broken heart. None one on the Corigoni knew of how he really felt. And he planned to keep it that way.

Reaching a black gloved hand up to the black piloting mask, he tugs it down. Revealing the long deep scar that ran from his left eye and down. In truth it ran all the way down to his collarbone. A parting memento from his ex-wife. Under the bright light of the posh room, there were very clear signs of exhaustion against his very pale skin. He sits there with his head against the inside of the closed and locked door. Listening to the silence of the room for a moment. With feet on the ground, knees brought up close to his chest, both his gloved hands lay limply onto the floor. No thoughts run through his mind. Just silence. For a moment, it was peaceful.

He didn't care much for where he was right that moment. There was silence that he could almost fall asleep to. But it wasn't meant to be. There was a ringing sound. Someone was paging for his attention on the other side of the door. His unusual gaze snapped open. The normal facade placing itself immediately. Though he waits a moment just in case they may just go away on their own. The ringing noise persists however. Shaking his head lightly and rolling his eyes, the man reluctantly gets up. Using a gloved hand to quickly pull the piloting mask back over into it's usual place. Over the bridge of his nose to cover up most of the front of his face.

Taking a deep breath, making sure the usual bored expression is in perfect place. Blinking, he opens the door. A bored tone coming out as he spoke. "Yes?" Simple and blunt. Dhari saw no point in asking a million questions when one would due. There were three women giggling as they tried rushed into his room as soon as he spoke. But he swiftly blocks them, and keeps the strangers from entering. Instantly regretting his decision to open the door in the first place. Why the hell had he opened it? Because of the excessive buzzer. He mentally answered his own question.

The three women started to protest as they wanted in to 'entertain' him. Clearly they were drunk, because they wreaked of alcohol. Dhari inwardly groans. 'I only want to sleep..' He thinks to himself. He longed for a moment's peace. Sighing, he gently pushes them just far away from the door so he can step out. Quickly closing and locking the door so they don't clamber inside. He figures they weren't going to take no for an answer. Maybe he could give them the slip? He'd have to be pretty damn quick though. His tablet beeps. He silently turns to go back into the main casino. The women try to hang all over him, but he keeps politely nudging them off. He intended to give them the slip before answering his tablet.

'How can this day get any worse..?' When he thinks this, Dhari immediately regretted it. Things could ALWAYS get worse! There was a creeping sensation, the same one that had bothered him earlier. As it happened again he honestly wondered where the hell it was coming from. It made him want to crawl out of his skin. 'I've got a bad feeling about this place..' As the three women continued to pester the man, he politely ignores them. But how had they found him to begin with? He didn't remember seeing anyone in the hall with him as he went into the room initially.

What was going on really? Dhari feels the urge to abruptly leave this place. But knows he can't. The Corigoni was down for repairs right now. So he was, unfortunately, stuck here until the repairs were finished. Maybe he could have one of his crew members help him get rid of these three? He thought of Joan who would be all too happy for a good brawl. Shuddering, he pushes the thoughts away. No, fighting wouldn't really solve anything. So instead, he just deals with it. Then he gets an idea. The men's bathroom. They wouldn't follow him there. Right?

He veers off and goes straight into a nearby men's lavatory. But they follow him. He stares at the three drunken women in total befuddlement. 'Why...?' Is the only thing he can think of as they start to try and undo his piloting gear. Immediately grabbing their wrists, he firmly tells them to stop while stepping swiftly away. When they get agitated though, he just simply walks away. Doing his best to get away from them without violence. He hated using violence as a first resort. Besides...he wasn't about to get rough with a woman. Some might call him old fashioned...but he did have a healthy respect for them. Granted...his ex-wife tried to kill him for his share of the company.

He quickly passes into the main casino. The three women seemed to forget about him not wanting their attention as they resumed trying to pester him about all kinds of 'friendly' interactions. But Dhari would have none of it. He didn't want to. He walks around the front part of the casino, trying to escape them. 'What the hell is wrong with them? How many times do I have to say no to them before they leave me be..?' He sighs quietly. Wondering how long this is going to be. He really was exhausted.

He wanders in literal circles around the main front of the casino, dodging people, ducking out of the way of the female employees, and everything he can think of to shake loose the three pesky women. But damn were they persistent. At this point, Dhari was beginning to get a headache. Knowing he should have answered the tablet long before now. His second in command, Codi would probably be sending someone soon to see if he was actually asleep. He passes by the same strange woman he had accidentally bumped into earlier. Thankfully, he did not bump into her a second time though. He doesn't notice either her or the man standing next to her. But instead, keeps walking briskly, trying very hard to lose the three women pestering the living hell out of him.

One of the women following however trips though and falls into her. Quickly getting up, she smiled seductively towards the Eoclu before looking back as the man she had been chasing was getting further away. Excusing herself, the drunken woman quickly gives chase, letting out a giggle. He sees the fight from earlier, and is careful to avoid it. The last thing he truly needed right now was to get dragged into another brawl. His nose still hurt from Joan's punch. Wincing at the memory, he continued hurriedly rushing around until he was just too damned exhausted. 'I swear these women are trying to kill me...' He thinks silently. Much to his utter bewilderment, four more begin to follow him around. Seriously....what the hell was the matter with these people?

He finally gives up trying to lose them and sits at the bar, intending to ignore them. Pulling out his tablet, the captain quickly sits at the bar. Promptly going through the reports that Codi had sent. Quickly messaging him an apology about the late reply, then explains about the pests following him mercilessly. Meanwhile the seven women continue chattering away and asking tons of questions. But Dhari shuts them all out. His sharp focus allowing him to tune literally everything out for the moment. Eventually a most of them begin to latch themselves onto other people passing by. Now only one remained as he continued to remain silent with intention whatsoever to pay attention to the woman's advances.

He rubbed his eyes after a few minutes though. Dhari really wanted to sleep. But couldn't do so until this woman would leave him be. Understanding perfectly what it was she wanted. But also knowing he himself was not interested in indulging her. He breathes a sigh, continuing to show patience to her. He rarely ever showed anger. And wasn't about to make a habit out of it neither. The bar tender seemed amused by everything though. As he kept supplying the woman with more alcohol, Dhari insistently kept tuning everything out. Maybe she would give up and leave finally? Then he could sleep.

More reports flood into the tablet. He checks each one quickly. His head resting into his left palm while the fingers of his right hand scrolled through reports and punched up replies to each one. Seemed there was more damage to the engines then originally thought. Meaning they would be there longer it seemed. Indeed...he regretting asking himself if things could get any worse today.

---

Ruined City

The man plucked one of the delicate little things from the vine, and this seemed to both startle, and mildly concern the girl. It hadn’t seemed like an immediately necessary thing to do, killing it like that.

Nevertheless, when instructed as to the word for the little green thing, she smiled broadly and repeated it back to him in just such a manner as if to say ’got it’.

”Leaf.”

And when she learned the word for the verdant carpet upon the floor, that too she repeated.

"Moss.”

The words did indeed not sound native to her tongue - they sounded new and unfamiliar to her - but she had most certainly demonstrated her ability to retain them already. They were not accented, so much as they were slightly off - but that hardly mattered, and surely over time that unfamiliarity would vanish.

Next he was spreading his arms toward the sky and crying out the word with such joy and passion that she could not help but giggle as she again, repeated it back to him - just not quite as loudly. "Sky~” And then, focusing, "Cloud.”

It did not strike her as necessary to repeat the words a second time, since she was aware that she now knew them quite well, and naturally assumed that he was in the loop on that.

When he touched her and said something new, though, she did not repeat it.

Rather, she gave him a puzzled look, as though he were suddenly contradicting himself.
”Moss.”

She blinked, staring at him uncomprehendingly. Hadn’t he just said that the stuff on the floor was called moss? Why then, was he telling her now that-

When it clicked in her head, the girl’s expression showed it with a start and a faint hint of pink on her cheeks. ”Oooh- down.” It was followed up by a nervous, sheepish little smile.

So then, maybe she was not quite the genius one might expect her to be. From observing her, one might have even gotten the idea that she was some kind of savant - able to retain incredible amounts of data, but finding difficulty making simple connections and deductions. As to the truth of this would as of yet remain a mystery…

There was, once again, no sensation of movement as the pair transitioned downward. There was no sensation, neither physically nor any sense of passing time. There was no sound - yet their surroundings just seemed to click and, like magic, change.

They appeared exactly one level down from where they had been. The girl looked around, suspicious that perhaps this was not exactly where he wanted to go. She looked at him for confirmation of this, and then again took them one more level down. This time, once again seeing a very similar appearance to their surroundings, she got the point and transitioned them instantly to the ground floor.

The great windows that stretched floor to ceiling were long since shattered and blown away. Rubble blocked the door, but the windows gaped onto the dirt and grass covered sidewalks that bordered similarly covered streets. The girl would not stray far from him, but her own eager, childlike curiosity and apparently abundant energy would simply not allow her to stand idle, and so within moments she was trotting over to one mouldering couch, and poking at it. It had decayed to the point of being more rotten wood and dirt than actual furniture, and only vaguely resembled the shape of a couch - just another sign of how incredibly long this place had gone without tending.

Further in the building did not seem so interesting - a long desk stretching from one end of the lobby to the other, with various shapes and lumps upon and around it that suggested computers and chairs, while only vaguely resembling what they once were before being reclaimed by nature. To somebody who knew what a ’bank’ was, it might have resembled such - though any signage confirming this theory was long since gone. To her, the outside looked much more interesting and she wasted little time exploring it, instead trotting to the gaping window and stepping out onto the earthen sidewalk, and leaning in to examine a brown, rusty structure that was once some kind of small vehicle - now carpeted and overgrown, and with little mushrooms thriving in the crevasse. She gently poked one of these, glanced to the man in case he might give her the word for them, and repeat it back if so. If not, she took no offense and regardless would continue her exploration, never straying too far from him, but ever unable to control her seemingly limitless youthful energy and enthusiasm.

The ancient, decaying structures that towered over them as they traversed the streets that nature had reclaimed gave the impression of a maze-like jungle canyon, with high-jutting cliff faces topped by broad plateaus. As one pale jade cloud came to put them in its’ vast shadow, it looked briefly as if there were a great, green ceiling stretched upon the sky until it again passed over to reveal the endless lapis-blue beyond.

The girl scampered ahead of the old man, though never too far - almost as if she were a hunting dog ranging the terrain for her master.

When they came to the little babbling stream, hardly two feet wide, that had somehow carved its way down from the great mountains, through the husks of buildings and at last across the ancient street, she nearly tripped into it. Windmilling her arms comically - again - she regained her balance, thn squatted down to more closely examine that most life-giving substance that she had for so long forgotten about. Timidly, she poked the water - it was icy, and with a very faint aquamarine-green tint, but clean.

Encouraged by the coolness of it, the girl dipped both hands in, and splashed a little on her face. Clearly it felt lovely - though she did not spend too much time on it, given that what she saw next was by far the most incredible thing she had seen yet.

It had two eyes, just like her - although it’s eyes were beady and black. It had a mouth, though it’s mouth was longer than her own, rather constituting a nubby snout. It had a nose, just like her - at least, she assumed it was a nose.

It had little hands with tiny black claws, and inverted hind legs that looked good for hopping. It had two pointy ears - or, at least, she assumed they were ears. It’s cheeks puffed out slightly, and behind it great, bushy plume of tail stuck out of it’s rear. It had fur all over it’s body, mostly reddish-brown, with a white belly and several darker markings on the little paws. It stood, starkly still, atop one of the rusty hunks that was overgrown with moss and vegetation. It stared openly at her.

She stared back.

Unmoving, frozen as still as a statue squatting there with hands dangling off her knees, she watched with wide, utterly dumbstruck eyes brimming with absolute wonder and delight. She had never seen such a thing in her entire existence - had never even dreamed of such a thing. It was a thing beyond the scope of her wildest imagination. It was absolutely, undeniably and utterly amazing.

It was, as the old astrophysicist would probably know, possibly only from books - a common tree squirrel.

The two of them stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity. Deathly silent, both unmoving, frozen in the moment of discovery they were both sharing from different perspectives. Then, after some time, the little thing cocked it’s head to switch it’s beady gaze toward the old man. The girl blinked, but did nothing else.

Again, a long time went by in that absolute stillness - and then, quite suddenly, the thing moved. It hopped gracefully down from its perch upon the ancient vehicle and scurried across the street, stopping there again - now closer - to examine these two new things of which it had never seen before.

Slowly, cautiously, it approached them - and, ultimately, it bypassed the frozen girl, who only turned to watch it go.

Rather it was the man that the critter was most interested in. Perhaps it was the girl’s uncanny ability to stay inhumanly still. She wasn’t even breathing, after all - and hadn’t for at least five or six minutes. Whatever the reason, it did not acknowledge her existence as it scurried by her to stop at the foot of the old man, and she did not disturb it. Only watched with overwhelming fascination and delight.

Finally, the creature just sat at the old man’s feet, looking expectantly up at him, seemingly unafraid of any movement he might make, were it not too sudden.