Ｃｏｌｌａｂ： ＵＲＳ ｘ ＡＶＡ

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"Hey," She called down to him, "I think you need this more than me." She tossed him the bottle of wine when he looked up at her, a slight smirk on the edge of her lips.

Urs looked up just in time to catch the bottle, even if he bobbled and fumbled it in his hands for a quick second before steadying it. When Urs saw the woman his facial features and expression immediately softened. The woman had sleek brown hair and a very small frame. At any other time he would surely tower over this small woman, however, she rode on camel-back and thus it was she who looked down at Urs. Her body size and frame would suggest she was timid, but the smirk that Urs could see just tickling the edges of her lips expunged any notion he may have had of her meekness. Her random act of kindness intrigued Urs; just reminded him that they were all out here together. "Well that's a lovely way to start a conversation," he said smilingly, indicating towards the bottle, "Thank you, I greatly appreciate it."

Ava had half expected the bottle to go tumbling into the sand considering he was caught off guard, but to her surprise the stranger below actually caught the wine. Good hand-eye coordination, duly noted. "Doesn't look the fighting type..." She thought, pondering what he did for a living as her green eyes met with his blues. "He has traces of The Prophet's tribe in his blood..." She wouldn't mention it, as she often found people mentioning her own prominent green eyes irritating at times. Surely she was not the only one.

"You were starting to look a little petrified so..." She shrugged, "I'm sure the wine could help you out with that. Liquid courage, and all." She held the playful smirk on her lips as her eyes raised to look around the crowd once again. "Looks like we might be slowing down for the night." Most were popping open bottles and chatting with each other as their leader did the same. Apparently their journey for the day was coming to an end. She would have preferred a more covered area to set up camp, but to each their own. If they died tonight, that was on Hannibal for killing them all on their first day.

Swinging a leg over the camel, Ava jumped down into the sand below. Turning, she extended out a hand to the stranger. "I'm Ava." She introduced herself, appearing mousy as she stood next to him - a whole five inches shorter.

Urs gazed at Ava's hand for a solid 2 seconds before emphatically shaking it. It looked as though he had found a friend. "I'm Urs," he said, flashing a reassuring smile, if only to reaffirm the feelings of goodwill. As he looked down to her that smirk seemed full force know, dancing across her lips. The woman seemed a good deal younger than him, and if Urs had to guess he would gander somewhere in the early twenties. Urs was not old by any measure, but he definitely had years of experience under his belt, and the psychological perseverance of young yet impressionable minds intrigued him. However, he sensed no docility nor blind compliance in this young woman. She seemed strong and independent, a very self sufficient woman. He was certain she had seen just as much in her youthful life as he had in his almost forty years of living.

So far, Urs would bet, judging by the smirk which had been feverishly present throughout their short conversation, she fancied herself a hard type. Urs didn't doubt she was, but in his belief everyone had a soft heart deep down inside them, no matter the circumstances. "So, what brings you on this trailbazing journey? After all, it is something of a deathwish if you take into account everything that has happened in the past," he said in attempt to continue the conversation, perhaps in an effort to get to know this stranger better.

"Nice to meet you, Urs."

While Ava usually preferred to stay aloof, it was always good to have someone to hang around with in situations like these. Crowds were out of her comfort zone, but she at least knew how to act in them. Making herself alone, and simultaneously a target was not on her to-do list. Appearing like "one of them" and joining in on the chatter as to not make herself stand out was her best bet for now. On the plus side she was bound to get some intel on Urs and whatever he felt like sharing with her, whether it be rumor or fact.

Adjusting the bow strung across her back, she listened to him attempt to pry into her personal life. She smiled, "I just want to get out of Oasis, to be honest." She lied without missing a beat. "There's only so many years you can tend to farm animals until you go crazy." She laughed, as if she was truly sick of such menial tasks. "What about-" She cut off her own words as she heard gasps coming from the crowd. Out of instinct she immediately snapped her attention to where the sounds came from, just in time to see Aurelia Nekroz looking horrified at what she had just done and Hannibal Hughes appearing as if the breath had just been knocked out of him. What had the noble woman done this time?

Not too long after, Aurelia came tumbling down from an unexpected toss of wine. Aurelia was apparently gravely less hand-eye coordinated than her new friend Urs was. The blonde came crashing down just beside Ava's camel, which spooked the camel and caused it to trot off in the other direction. Ava's eyes went from Aurelia to the camel several times as Aurelia gathered herself up, clearly humiliated. People were bursting out in laughter from the crowd, though Ava took no part. She did not even crack a smile. How could any one have wanted to put an end to this awkward girl? Ava nearly killed her only a few weeks ago, until the hit was redacted. She could not be this incompetent, could she? No, most likely not. If there was one thing Ava knew, it was to never underestimate those who appear useless on the outside. Life always had an interesting turn of events up it's devilish sleeve.

"Hey, thanks for getting that camel away from me. Good riddance I say! Vile beasts." She called back to Aurelia, a playful look on her face once again.

As Aurelia left back to her own vile beast, bottle of wine in hand, Ava turned back to Urs. "Miss Nekroz must have been drinking the whole ride here." She joked, her eyes moving to the bottle that she had tossed to Urs earlier. "We outta catch up, don't you think?" She laughed, "As I was going to ask before, what brought you here?" Holding a smile, she took off her hood to reveal her face of soft features more easily.

This was completely out of character for Ava, but it fit the environment. Whatever it took to blend in.

Urs' chuckled as he watched the woman -- if he was not mistaken on his "current events" in the Oasis, was it Aurelia her name? -- crash thunderously to the ground. Her face was a deep shade of plum red, and for a moment Urs almost felt bad about his off-hand laughter, feeling empathy for her embarrassment that she was most likely feeling. Urs knew he hated it when he was the wrong end of laughter at your expense, and he decided to withhold his laughter. Funnily enough, even after all this, Urs almost chuckled again when realized that could have been him just a few moments ago. As the woman got up, Urs smiled at her if only to make sure she was okay. Ava brought his attention back to the conversation, as she pulled off her hood. Urs could see her more clearly now, and realized that she had very young and healthy looking skin and her green eyes were vibrant. He found her to be attractive and concluded she would make a good companion for another young soul.

Her response to his question seemed sincere, yet he found it a silly one. He never understood wanting to "run away" from a good and stable life and run towards imminent death. But then again, Urs' reason was not exactly great either. He had been objective of death before, attesting that he did not fear it. But now he wasn't so sure. When she asked Urs what had brought him here, the answer he seeked was not only would be for a response to Ava, but also for himself. He reassured himself that he was a man of science and he was devoted to the power his discovery would bring. As Urs opened his mouth to speak, he hesitated slightly. Should he really be trusting this person so openly? They had only just met and he was going to lay his life's ambitions on her? Urs quickly dismissed these trivial thoughts, attesting to himself that she had done the same to him, and besides, they were all stuck out in this death trap of a wasteland; it couldn't hurt to have a few friends. "I'm an alchemist, scientist, chemist, whatever you want to call it. A rather successful one as well, wouldn't you believe it. I came along to try and discover chemical compounds and foreign vegetation, and perhaps along the way make some other scientific discoveries. It's rather funny, looking back it sounds rather naive, but I suppose there is no returning now."

As he gave her his response Urs looked at her furiously green eyes. He believed she was being genuine, and more so he hoped so. He would need all the friends he could get to survive this journey.

Ava smiled at his response; was he actually being truthful with her or was this another charade? "Wow! You have quite the track record. Very unlike a farm girl, like myself. I'm sure we'll both meet some interesting people during all of this." Even if he was being truthful, she had no plans to be. At least not if she could help it.

Her eyes slowly wandered over to Aurelia again, finding the redhead seemingly trying to console her. "She looks familar..." She thought, eyeing the redhead carefully. A friend of Aurelia's? Unlikely. Aurelia hadn't been the type to keep friends according to her previous findings. Ever since her families scandal she had been quite the loner, whether it was by her own choice or not.

"What do you say we go introduce ourselves to our fierce leader, Mr. Hughes? Surely he needs a distraction after that fiasco." Turning to the direction in which she could hear Hannibal's voice resounding, she took a few steps forward with Urs not far behind. Her eyes pinpointed him in the crowd, then began to sweep over the few people he was currently trying to impress with his theatrical performances. An exotic woman who stood out from the sea of people with ease seemed to be conversing with Hannibal at the moment, though from the looks of it she was just as awkward as Aurelia was.

"If it isn't mister Hannibal Hughes himself!" Ava cooed, just loud enough for Hannibal to hear her approaching from his right side. As he turned to face her, Ava put on a big award-winning smile. If he wanted theatrical, she could act. "My, my... I never thought I'd get to meet a famous person face to face!" She stopped in front of him, eyes glancing over to the other woman before returning to Hannibal. "Oh, excuse my manners. My name is Ava Hemingway, and this here," She gestured to Urs beside her, "is my new friend, Urs. Pleasure to meet you." She offered a hand out to Hannibal for a handshake, a smile still plastered on her face.

---

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---

Aurelia wasn't sure if the brunette woman was mocking her or not, but continued onward until dawned upon a gunslinger, who courteously brought her the reins to her mount. His actions made no sense to her though. After all, her family nor herself had ever done anything for him; thus there was no cause, rhyme, or reason for his assistance. A fool's errand, it was, to help a disgraced pariah such as herself. At the same time, Senna sauntered over and silenced those that laughed at the shield maiden. Why were they being nice to her? Hannibal was the casualty here, not her. A sudden feeling of paranoia gripped her as she quizzically looked from the thief to the dusty looking man, assuming the worst in them. Her dark eyes then flew to the sapphire-encrusted shield that hung from her camel. Criminals. There wasn't a single person she could trust here.

Before she could mount up and flee from these would-be brigands, Senna said something that stopped her forward movement: the redhead complimented Aurelia, said that she was adorable. At once, the former noblewoman's eyelashes fluttered thrice and her jaw hung partially opened, as if she had just been hit on for the first time in her life. However, Aurelia was quick to dismiss any notions that the thief had any true interest in her. It would be social suicide to be involved with her in any shape or form. Clearing her throat, the blonde focused on the question that both of them had asked her: Was she alright? Between the clear wound adorned upon her temple, the multiple bruises along her body, and, to make matters worse, sand up her dress, Aurelia was sure the answer was a resounding no. She was not so blunt to tell them that though.

"Just minor discomfort. However, you two should have seen to Mr. Hughes before me... After all, I'm guilty of assaulting him, not the other way around. But... Thank you for the sentiments." she explained to them, regaining some of her noble poise. Coincidentally, their leader arrived just as she uttered his name, wearing a serious expression. The man had a hand on his sword's hilt, and Aurelia was quite sure he was about to strike her down where she stood. In a twist of fate, he slit his thumb and initiated a Penance salute by smearing his own blood across his forehead. He apologize and then took his leave with a bow. The soldier was left with a feeling of guilt though, knowing it should have been her performing that rite, not him.

Brooding on it, Aurelia came to realize there was more to Mr. Hughes than she originally thought. He was not simply a crass clown, not at all. She focused on him as he strode away and reverted back to his merry ways. Perhaps she needed to be more like Hannibal: someone unafraid of those around him. After all, if this expedition was to be successful, then they would need each other. Taking her camel's reins, the blonde began to walk away to search for a nice spot within the sands, preferably not infested with scorpions or other malicious creatures. The sun was sinking and soon the desert's chill would be upon them. With her free hand, she uncorked her bottle of wine and took a long drink, the bittersweet draught dancing down her throat. "Join me tonight, if you dare, companions. I would not blame you if chose otherwise though..." she called back to Senna and the mysterious man.

_{@Rune_Alchemist@Snagglepuss89@POOHEAD189@The Muse}

Gabe nodded at Hannibal's apology. It was an odd custom, but one he'd seen before. He made sure to give him a pat on the back as soon as he turned to go. It looked like his spirits weren't dampened though. "Ho! My fellow beacons of life in this cruel wasteland! A joyous close to the first day, isn't it? I feel as if the whole of Oasis couldn't stop us if they tried! With luck this blasted desert won't either." Gabe was usually averse to such men, but with a suicide mission like this, he was glad they had a leader with such spirit. "Reckon so." he replied to Hannibal's announcement.

He began to move on at that, the Caravan still moving at a brisk pace, before the Nekroz girl invited him to sit by the fire that night. She made it sound ominous, but he knew better. He glanced back at her as he led his own mount away, and tipped his hat in acceptance. He'd join her, if only to sit by a fire and listen. The desert still sprawling before them and Oasis sinking into the distance, he might need a strong drink to lift his spirits.
@Viciousmarrow @Snagglepuss89

When the woman finished stumbling over her words Hannibal let out a sigh of exasperation before shoving the bottle of wine he was holding into her hands. The woman clearly needed the drink more than he did, and seemed to be growing more flustered by the moment. If her words caused him any thought at all, it was unnoticeable. Although underneath all the fluster she seemed... dangerous somehow to him. Storing that info in the back of his mind, he clapped a hand onto her shoulder and replied with confidence:

"My dear, it doesn't matter if Oasis were to chase us or not, and it doesn't matter whether we are greeted with love or disdain."

He then pivoted, facing the setting sun once more and pointed towards it, as if in challenge and began shouting.

"We are on a journey of greatness and goodness! So some of us are reviled? Bah! People are quick to forget, thieves will become heroes, and Oasis will remember us fondly! I say feed your pasts to the pack and be done with them! Our futures are to be grand! And Oasis grander for our efforts!"

Hannibal then turned to the two newcomers as they approached and addressed him. He took a moment to size them up. The man almost felt like a kindred spirit, in some respects. The woman, however, young and attractive as she was felt... Felt a lot like the tanned woman he had just been talking to. Hannibal's feel for people had kept him alive over the years, and he was inclined to trust his instincts.

Ava Hemmingway, I'll hav-

His thoughts were interrupted as she introduced the man next to her, all thoughts of responding to her flattery having thrown out of his head. Instantly he clapped his hands onto the man's shoulder and spun him around once in delight, letting out a laugh of enthusiasm. He had suspected this man was accompanying them when he read through the ledger, but to actually have it confirmed...

"Urs Uring, yes? My word, what a surprise to have you aboard this little venture! I've kept up on all your work over these years, fascinating stuff. If we'd had these advancements at the palace twenty years ago, why... Things may be mighty different now in Oasis I tell you! Have you had any more success transmuting metals? I'm beginning to fear it's impossible, personally. The possibilities though! Imagine being able to convert copper to steel, forget that gold nonsense, it'd be revolutionary! We all know it's lack of iron holding us back technologically."

Almost as an afterthought he turned to the young mercenary. She'd get to meet a famous person face to face? Was she so ignorant of her current company? Still, he supposed there might be a slight difference in the level of celebrity status between him and Urs. That or perhaps the woman was one of those idiots who read newspapers instead of books. Regardless, he gave her a bow of indulgence, she certainly wasn't the first fan he'd ever greeted.

"The Hannibal Bartleby Hughes at your service, Ava. I promise to do my utmost to keep us alive and well on our journey towards discovery."

He grinned and finally took her hand after speaking. At the same time, drawing his sword and giving another theatrical slash towards the sun. The fans seemed to love that stuff, and he was nothing if not indulgent.

~Senna Daher~

"Hey, don't worry about Hannibal." Senna laughed. "I'm pretty sure he gets that on a daily basis. I do too sometimes." She laughed as Aurelia mentioned they should have seen to Hannibal first. Well, maybe she should have, but she honestly couldn't stand those jackasses that were laughing at Aurelia. Well, at least they had more or less been silenced by her threat which was good for now. So the redhead merely gave Aurelia a wide grin as said she was alright. That was good. It would be kinda bad to get injured out here so soon and early. Well, with that out of the way, she should probably get moving.

Senna watched Hannibals little display with a small hum of interest. She hadn't seen something quite like that before. Some sort of...promise or something? Apology? Why couldn't he just say sorry or something? The only apology she'd accept was a drink and possibly a compliment telling her how pretty she was...okay, maybe just a verbal apology. She honestly wasn't one for apologies in general. Whatever Hannibal did was maybe a bit much to her, but hey if he wanted to do that then that was his thing. Not her place to say something about it.

The redhead watched Aurelia walk away, and her offer of joining her tonight. Well, there was an enticing offer. Senna hadn't been lying about her being adorable of course, she found most women adorable in some way but that was besides the point. Most people might consider that a bit bad, but well, she only offered her compliments because they were completely true. Most of the time. Unless she was being catty and sarcastic, which she liked to think she did quite well.

"Yeah, sure! I'll see ya there." She called out after the soldier. She'd talk with her later, but for now though the redhead moved back to the front of the Caravan. She wanted a front row seat to everything, and the front of the caravan was obviously the place to be for that. Night would be coming soon, though. The desert was already cooling down, and chances were they'd stop soon.

Urs chuckled to himself. Hannibal, after all these years in the brutality of the Oasis which had an uncanny knack for molding even the strongest ofwills, still remained a jovial and upbeat man. Whilst many others would find Hannibal's antics obnoxious and distasteful, Urs always got great laughter and uplifting from Hannibal. His almost naive fervor for recognition was always entertaining, and to be honest, Urs found his amicability refreshing in a world rife with cynicism. Urs supposed others might view it as arrogance and egotism, but Urs saw past that. He saw a man with love for adventure, and nothing more malignant, nor spiteful. Although, he could probably see where certain people got annoyed with him, but Hannibal had never bothered Uring. All the years when Hannibal had been chasing escapades whether it be in the scientific world, or whether it be the town guard, Uring had always admired his perseverance and tenacity; his utter devotion to being a man of the people. Urs could not think of a better man in the Oasis to run the caravan; a man who was motivated by the people.

"Mr. Hughes, please, you flatter me too much with your kind words of my work. As for the metals, I am a man of principle so I will not officially say anything, but between you and me, yes, I have not been successful, and quite frankly, don't think I ever will be. But that is life, sometimes mother nature will allow it, sometimes she will not. But that's just how it is, and I think you know that more than anyone Mr. Hughes," he said, smiling a genuine smile at Hannibal.

---

A faint smile appeared on Io's face when he saw a hint of surprise momentarily present in Opal's expression, relaxing slightly. For the first time in a long time, he remembered how nervous he got when he talked to people. It was social anxiety, born not only from his habit of keeping his distance from others, but from the fact that the vast majority of his "social experience" was from characters in novels that he had read. The only thing stopping Io from running away was his will to find out the truth about Opal's identity. Even then, his cool facade crumbled slightly when Opal asked for his name.

"Eh?" A surprised voice slipped out from Io's mouth, the person himself frozen for a solid second. Was he supposed to give his name first? Is it rude to act like that to someone who was older than him? Io had no idea, since he never had to think about these questions before. Slightly panicked, he started studdering as he apologized. "Ah! S-s-sorry! I-I'm... umm, my name's..." Blushing furiously under his hood, he took a deep breath before trying again. "My name is Io Murkveld, umm... Was I being rude?"

"You were at that, Io Murkveld, but I daresay you'll learn the ways of the world yet," Opal replied calmly, collected, not at all worried as she was initially. The trick was to gain control of the conversation early on, and then to hold that control for however long it lasted. Never let anyone gain the advantage, never let anyone see you sweat. Though this Io Murkveld was young, that didn't mean he was stupid; the young were often perceptive, able to notice the subtle changes in tone or facial cues. But still...Opal had every confidence in herself . It came with the territory.

"It's proper for one asking for a name to give their first. Common courtesy, and this holds especially true when dealing with a woman, Master Murkveld. But it's no bother, no harm meant, no harm done. You spoke to me with the claim of having a secret to share, I cannot imagine why you would choose to share it with me, but as I am here my attention is yours for the moment." Opal punctuated her response with a polite tipping of her head. Had she a hat it was quite likely she would've tipped that as well.

"I guess it would be because... I thought it'd be important for you to know," Io said, a faint smile drifting onto his face. Unlike the one he had on before, there was a frightening, unearthly characteristic to it, as if he knew something that shouldn't have been known. "Ah, but the secret's not actually mine. It belongs to someone named Ophelia Harrington. Do you happen to know her?"

Of course she knew her but now came the tricky part of the whole affair. The Harrington's weren't exactly unknown, but she doubted that the lower class sorts would care enough to know the names of the individual members. She did wonder how this...Io lad knew the name, but she would file that question in for later. Instead she remained with the same expression on her face, a look of consideration and a slight shrugging of her shoulders.

"The name rings the tiniest of bells. Ophelia, you said? Does she run the produce stand 'round the Oasis markets? It's safe to say that I don't know the lass in a personal sense, but then who can know the names of all of their neighbors in a place like Oasis?" The name of the game was denial. It was far too early in the con to crack now.

"It's actually pretty amazing how much people can remember." Io replied amusedly to her remark, having significantly more than just his neighbors' names memorized. He'd share those tidbits as well, but it would definitely tripping several red flags in an instant. Not that he wouldn't end up tripping them. But Io held back, thinking to himself, "I'll be doing that anyways, soon enough."

On the verge of finding out Opal's true identity, Io was in borderline ecstasy, his vehement emotions concealed by his calm, watching expression. The joy he'd get from breaking apart her carefully constructed lies would be the same as if he'd failed to do so; he'd get to try again and again and again until he suceeded. Lies obstructed his studies, and were something Io refused to leave intact.

"Ophelia is part of the aristocracy in Oasis," Io explained, putting out redundant information to keep up his act. "The thing about her is, she actually has this hobby where she scams people out of their stuff. The fake name she'd been using, 'Clarabelle Chetwynde', has gotten reaaaallly infamous with the city guard."

"Well I must say that's quite the mouthful of a name, though I suppose when one comes from aristocracy then the names they choose sound just as aristocratic," Opal responded with as close to a lack of interest as she could muster. Of course there was a lingering, pertinent question that she wanted to ask but knew that she couldn't. How? How did this person know such information when it was hardly public knowledge. But Opal couldn't ask that, it would seem as if she was taking an interest, and that was absolutely the last thing she wanted.

"Well, that's quite the secret, there, though I don't presume to know why you chose to share it with me. What the fancy high life types do in their spare time is their business. So long as this Ophelia Harrington or Clarabelle Chetwynde didn't try to pull one over on li'l ol' me then...I've no conflict with her. Not that it matters none anyway, there ain't no aristocracy out here. Just a bunch of people who must be rather crazy. Don't worry, Master Murkveld, your secret is safe between us."

Opal had to play her cards rather close to the chest, and in this instance it meant ending the conversation by feigning uninterest. Opal wasn't an idiot, she knew where this topic was going, but all the kid had was pure conjecture, surely. And she was not about to change that.

"Ah, but Miss Opal Lennox," Io said, his smile mixed with dark intent. She was trying to put as much distance between herself and the issue at hand, and he could tell. Without anymore doubts in his mind, Io pressed harder. "That wasn't the real secret. You see, about... two days ago? The day before the little parade for the expedition, Clarabelle--or, rather, Ophelia--had made a big mistake during one of her cons, and was forced to run. To avoid being identified and caught, she faked her own kidnapping by cutting her hair and left a note for her parents."

"The expedition was a pretty good opportunity to escape from all that, don't cha think?" Io asked, finally tilting his head up to look at Opal, revealing his ghastly complexion and the dark pools that were his eyes, threatening to absorb whatever they saw. "So, Ophelia disguised herself and joined the expedition at the last minute to try and hide from the people that were looking for her. Naturally, she also came up with another name, too."

"But then, you probably already already knew about all that, right? Miss Ophelia Harrington." He said the last part with a hint of almost smug delight.

Who was this kid? Where was he getting this information? How much did he know, say, about the others on this crazy journey? And why was he so...pale...so...unnerving? All questions that lingered somewhere in Opal's head, never to be asked aloud. The name of the game hadn't changed, however, even in light of what she assumed was to be the lad's smoking gun. Opal maintained her posture - body language could easily be read from the smallest of tells, and offered a smile to Io.

"Well if this is your rather roundabout way of saying I look like some kind of aristocrat than I suppose I should take that as a compliment. Your tale is quite tall and might make for a good serial story were you to convert it to writing. But I'm sorry to say you have me quite confused for someone else." Denial. Always denial.

"But purely hypothetically," Opal added on, keeping her voice at the same tone, "If I were this Ophelia Harrington lass I can't imagine the sense in telling me. You stand to gain nothing but risk losing everything. Someone running afoul of the city guards doesn't seem like someone I'd want to run afoul of myself. Just hypothetically, of course." Opal shrugged her shoulders, returning the bright smile to her lips. "But I've listened to your story, as fantastical as it was, and that will be the end of that. I suggest coming up with a more plausible one before you start sharing tales around the cooking fires."

Opal wanted nothing more than to step away from this conversation...and to keep as much distance between herself and this Io Murkveld as possible. Someone with such intel was someone to avoid.

"It's not a story, it's fact." Io said bluntly, tilting his head to the side as he continued staring at her. "Either way, I wasn't going to tell anyone else. After all, it's just a secret between you and me, y'know?" Io had never lied about anything in his life, but at the same time, he wouldn't say anything unless someone asked. It was somewhat ironic that Io, who constantly had such knowledge in hand, believed in privacy of any sort.

"And... besides..." he said, his voice growing quieter as he pulled his cloak tighter to himself to hide his reddening face and averted his seemingly empty gaze. "Even though Ophelia cons people, I don't think she's really a bad person." He felt that there wasn't any real malice behind Opal's actions; it just was an interest in learning about how people thought, to a lesser degree of his own, but nonetheless similar. Io tried to say that he wanted to talk and find out what she liked about swindling, but his voice had faded down to flustered, incoherent mumbling.

"Well, believe what you want to believe, I suppose. I know myself, Master Murkveld, and myself is certainly no Ophelia Harrington. But if you're keeping this little story to yourself then I suppose our matter is concluded. The last thing I need are people thinking I'm something or someone I'm not." Denial, even to the end, even with nothing truly to gain from doing so. Opal had to stay committed, that was one of the rules of the con.

"Not all supposed criminals are bad people, and if this Ophelia Harrington is as you think, it stands to reason that she's not bad either. Consider that a bit of a life lesson. Now, was there something else or is our palaver concluded?" Opal had to ask, if only because the kid seemed now to be mumbling and muttering something, word perhaps?

She had stuck around this long, after all. Might as well hear everything.

"Ah, no, that's all. Thank you for lending me your time." Io said with a slight bow before hopping back into the wagon. He plopped down onto a bedroll, staying silent as he laid there. There was no way he could ask her then. He'd burned through his motivation of finding out Opal's identity, whom he was convinced is Ophelia. The only thing that kept Io talking was his momentum, which was quickly burned through by his embarrassment. He sighed. "It really is better to just watch them from a distance." Interrogating people was incredibly fun, but his heart just couldn't handle being so close to a person and talking to them for so long.

---

Naahdira blinked in surprise as Hannibal pushed a bottle into her hands, sighing. "Ah, you don't-" But the man had already turned to make a dramatic speech into the sun. Greatness? Goodness? She supposed that some people would be remembered fondly, but for Naahdira, she would be either reviled and feared by reputation, or not known of at all.

She was idly sloshing around the wine in the bottle, watching the setting sun through the green glass when the two new arrivals approached Hannibal. Apparently the... eccentric was more well-known than Naahdira had thought. She hadn't paid attention to the papers in Oasis. If she had, she probably would've found stories of their leader's harmless infamy alongside her more deadly reputation. It was probably for the best. If she had, she probably would've seen the effects on her target's families. How they had mourned. Gods above and below, she really did need the drink.

Naahdira hadn't really had much alcohol before. Maybe it was the job, how she couldn't afford to be impaired by drink of any sort. Always alert, always on edge. Out here, unless the Pack was on the horizon, there was no real danger. Other than the heat and wind, the desert was relatively harmless. Might as well try some.

Tipping the bottle back, Naahdira took a large gulp of the wine, and was surprised by how smooth it was. The last time she had any alcoholic drink was when her target, a drunk, had fought her, and she had gotten her head stuffed in an ale barrel briefly. That drink had burned as it went down, nothing like this. This was nice.

Taking another swig, Naahdira turned her eyes to the members of the Caravan who were approaching Hannibal, and froze. Was that Urs Godsdamned Uring? This was problematic. He was one of the people extremely few in number, one of those who had seen her face.

The scientist had offended some noble house, one of the more conservative families in Oasis, the likes of which whom thought that they were put in Oasis for a reason, and that tampering with the balance of nature would bring the wrath of the Gods upon them. Their ideology didn't matter to Naahdira then, only how much they were willing to pay.

Instead of hiring her to kill Urs himself, whom was a major public figure, even more so then than now, the death of whom would've warranted a large investigation by the Grey Watch, they hired her to kill his lab assistant at the time, to send a message. The assistant had been easy enough to kill. Hell, she even made it look like an accident, acid burns all over her face, and covering up the knife wounds. However, Urs had surprised her from behind, pulling her scarf and hood back. She had escaped quickly, but there was a good chance that he remembered her.

Naahdira knew her best bet was to avoid him completely, but for some reason, she didn't immediately turn away, and head back to the safety of the Caravan's camels and wagons. She didn't know whether it was because she didn't care anymore, or if it was that she was feeling especially courageous, or if it was just the buzz from the wine, but she walked closer, to try and listen to the conversation, eventually interjecting with, "So essentially your work has just been for naught?"

Naahdira frowned. That came out wrong. "I mean... you haven't made any progress towards transmuting- or whatever you call it- anything into iron and steel?"

@Inuyasha@Snagglepuss89@The Muse

---

It wasn't long before the sun finished it's descent over the horizon, blanketing the desert with the light of the stars above, and a bitter chill replaced the heat from earlier in the day. Finally, the caravan stopped completely, wagons pulled into circles where several groups gathered around warm campfires. The revelry from earlier had begun to smoulder as people went to work setting up tents and preparing the night's dinner. It was considered to be tempting fate to consume the meat of The Pack when outside the safety of Oasis, so bread served with a vegetable soup was the predominant choice of meal that night.

They could be heard, on still nights like this, however many miles away they were across the wastes. The Pack, greeting the night with their countless voices, a song that was barely audible but ever present in the distance. It could be considered beautiful, if not for it's association with death and destruction. For most residents of Oasis, it was unsettling. Few people, as it were, slept without noise at night to distract them. Which at the moment, for those gathered around him, was Hannibal Bartleby Hughes, wielding half a loaf of bread in one hand like a sword as he spoke:

"- and there we were, swords drawn! My fellow soldiers of the guard surrounding us, clearly unwilling to take sides. The bastard shouted at me; "One way or the other Hannibal, I'll cut you down here or see you hanged! What'll it be?!", the idiot clearly unaware of my dueling prowess! Before we could come to blows though, another man charged in- Richard Alansworth, good runner- clutching a piece of paper and pointing right at me!"

He paused, for dramatic affect, before pulling out a piece of paper from one of his inner pockets, worn with age and use, but still clearly displaying the Royal Seal stamped onto it.

"You- you should have seen the poor bastard's face when good old Richard explained I'd received a pardon from the Queen herself, again! One half boiling with rage, one half bewildered out of his mind. I just patted him on the shoulder as I walked away- he clearly wasn't capable of words in that particular moment. Ah, Commander Evans may have been a stupid man, but I still mourn his passing. At the very least, you couldn't call him corrupt."

Solemnly he took a drink from the wine bottle he had placed at his feet when the story began, before ripping a chunk off of the bread he was carrying and passing it to the next person in the circle. Even Hannibal had seemed to calm with nightfall, at least compared to his earlier self. The tale was a longer one, about his time serving in the guard, but aside from it's climax had been relatively free of preposterous boasts and fantastic exaggerations. No doubt, many would find that to be a blessing. With a bow, he he fell to the sand, cross legged, and began devouring the soup in front of him, having waited for everyone else to get their share first, hoping someone else would take the cue to speak.

"I mean... you haven't made any progress towards transmuting- or whatever you call it- anything into iron and steel?"

The nature of the question, or more so the manner of it, took Urs off guard. He looked up to respond to her, beginning, "Yes, well, I -- ,"

His face contorted into a frown and his eyes grew acute when he looked up and saw the woman. Something tugged at the back of his conscience, a slip of something, something barely within the reach of his mind. He studied the woman's face carefully, a frown plastered on his face. The woman stood even in height with him, her chic black hair sloping over her forehead, looping above her sharp, walnut eyes. Her face was tranquil and calm, and it almost had a divine air to it. But that was not what interested Urs; rather her chocolate, dark skin. Not many in the Oasis had such a skin, as pigment was nearly uniform. Urs had done some studies into it, however, nothing extensive enough that would actually unearth results. That was left to the one or two people in the Oasis who were genealogists. But the scientific intricacies of her pigment was not what had sparked his interest. It wasn't everyday you saw someone with that skin tone, and Urs felt that he recognized her somewhere. He desperately tried to place her face, despairingly trying to get the gears in his brain to turn. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could not figure her. Urs settled for the fact that he was sure it would come to him eventually, and he pushed it to the back of his mind.

After what had been a solid five seconds, Urs smiled again as if nothing had transpired, and continued, "Sorry, I seem to have found myself distracted for a moment. But yes, it seems to transmute metals is a hopeless cause. However, that has never stopped me from trying." He continued, "Now, I must check up on a friend, if you'll excuse me," and promptly dropped back into the pack of travelers.

_@Athinar

---

Urs pandered to Hannibal, chuckling at every grandiose gesture he extraneously carried out, and every played out bellow. Urs was as much at fault for feeding his ego as everyone else was, however he did not mind. It was good to have a man of entertainment at the helm; someone who could keep things light in the times of dark. Urs knew every story that Hannibal told was most likely more fable than truth, and despite this, he did not mind; in fact, that was a part of the glamour of the stories to him.

As they settled down to eat, Urs scanned the circles for someone he recognized. He settled his gaze on Ava, the woman he had met earlier. Perhaps she would see it as clingy or overbearing, however, Urs had found her companionship enjoyable on the day's journey, and he would try to pursue friendship. Whether she would accept it or not was up to her, but that was out of Urs' hands. Perhaps he was being naive, but perhaps not. He walked over to her, a gentle smile stretched on his face.

"Ava, we meet again," he said, still a warm and inviting smile on his face, "I hope you don't mind my company,""

_{@The Muse}

The night was young and the fire was hot. Hot enough to keep the cool desert climate from slinking into his bones. The drink helped too, he had to admit. He took another small swig, reminding himself that he'd need to save his drink for the remainder of his short life. Gabe patted his chest and did his best to let out his burp quietly.

He looked over to each side. The wanderer sat near most everyone, making himself be readily available for anyone to talk to. Because he knew he couldn't trust himself to start conversation. His guns were still by his side, despite the apparent safety of the night. Not even with the Oasis still in sight and merrymaking abound would he let his guard down. He resigned himself to listen to Hannibal's exploits as the dusk grew into dark. It wasn't an unimpressive tale, he had to admit. There had to be a reason Hannibal was famous. Talk usually didn't get you fame. It usually got you dead, in Gabe's experience.

With a sigh, he decided to speak out. "Good story." Gabe said with a raised voice, hefting his drink. "Officers with honor are hard to come by these days."

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Aurelia was about half past drunk by now, having had two, possibly three, entire bottles of Hannibal's beloved Scipio's. She had to admit, the man had good taste when it came to drink. Generally, wine wasn't her forte, but this particular brand was definitely at the top of her list of favorites. The comforting embrace of alcohol's numbing properties had long been a friend of hers, yet she still had a piss poor tolerance for the stuff. The blonde woman sat there, swaying to the left and then to the right, like a pendulum put into motion as her delicate ears picked up Hannibal's story about the fiery Commander Evans. That had been a man she'd never liked...

"Honorable? I am not sho shure 'bout dat, Hannibal! she drunkenly slurred out, suddenly rising from the sand and spilling her bowl of soup. "I shall tell you another shtory 'bout da wonderful Commander Evans!" Aurelia seemed a lot more comfortable around others when she was intoxicated, although at the cost of her usual noble poise. At the very least, she was able to retain a broad vocabulary. "Twas a night like dis, on my fourteenth bird-day, dat I met Mr. Evans. A dashing fellow, I thought he wash, wish all thoshe decorationsh and hish meticuloushly combed 'air." Her hands violently swung to and fro as she narrated her tale, actively acting out the scene. "However... He eyed me wish dose hawkish eyesh of hish, ash if I wash nothing but a piece o' meat."

Her dark eyes swimmingly spotted the brunette from earlier being approached by a sandy haired man. Internally, she decided to include them in her theatrics. Striding over to the chatting pair, she intercepted their conversation and pushed the shaggy looking researcher away. "Ash a family friend approached to dance wid me, he forced 'im away, crying 'Begone wish ye! Dis ish my meat for the nigh'!" she cried, imitating a man's voice as best she could. Forcing the emerald eyed woman to her feet, Aurelia's theatrics continued as she took the lead in a pseudo-waltz. There was no beat or fitting music to dance to, so it was more of a comical shuffle of her feet. "There I wash, a maiden violated by dis man's anticsh. And ash we danced, he leaned over and shaid..." Her face got very near to her partner's and the hand on her waist traveled down sensually. "...Will you be mine tonight?" Before the woman could a word an inch-wise, Aurelia unexpectedly planted a kiss onto her rosy red lips.

There was a roar of enthusiasm from some of those in the crowd, fixated on the girl-on-girl action happening before them. Giggling, the inebriated nobleman spun away from her volunteer, letting the brunette ponder on what just happened. "Thush my first kiss wash taken from me by our beloved Commander Evans, a man nearing middle age, and I wash not yet even a woman. Luckily my father showed up and shooed him away before my virginity was shtolen too! Sho much for honorable, correct?"

Sweaty, hungry and thirsty, the soldier ended her spectacle with a bow and went back to her bottle, downing a good third of it. Oh how the sweat nectar demanded to be accompanied by sustenance! However, upon seeing her empty bowl of soup, her gaze shifted around suspiciously. "Hey, who ate my shoup?!" Aurelia called out, challenging the culprit to reveal themselves. Apparently she didn't realize that she had spilled it in her hurry to unveil her story. It didn't take long for the blame to be shifted to the notorious thief, Senna, though. Narrowing her eyes on the red head, Aurelia beckoned the girl over. "It wash you, wash it not, thief?" One of her hands reached for her gladius, ready to strike this heathen down with the fury of a firestorm.

_{@Snagglepuss89@The Muse@Inuyasha@Rune_Alchemist}

The rest of the trip was rather uneventful. Senna stayed near the front of the caravan, where most of anything interesting would happen should take place. Such events proved lacking, however, aside from her occasionally making small conversation with some of the people in the caravan. So when night came with its cold chill, Senna was thankful that she might be finally able to get something interesting to happen. Or rather, she was finally able to sit, drink more, and get to know her new companions a little bit.

And maybe a little bit more, heh~

For now, she was sitting near a campfire, listening to Hannibal's story about the oh so wonderful guard. She obviously had her fair share of run ins with them considering her...profession. She drank and laughed along with everyone else as he revealed his story. She had her own share of tales from run ins with the guards, though they were probably much less...humorous, even with some embellishment. Usually, running into a guard for her meant they tried to arrest her...or worse. Though, that one time she slapped a guard with a loaf of bread was still hilarious. Before she could recount that tale though, Aurelia had deemed it worthy to speak first. A quite obviously drunk Aurelia she might add.

And yes, she was still adorable drunk.

Senna listened to the older woman's tale, though with a bit less of amusement. So she simply ate the soup, and kept her mouth shut for the most part, though she did laughed at Aurelia's drunken dancing. She really would have liked to met this commander person and introduce him to her crossbow. Preferably at point blank range if what Aurelia was saying was in fact true. Her thoughts about such things were caught completely off guard however, as Aurelia went right over to Ava...and kissed her right on the lips.

Senna's jaw hung open for a few seconds before loud, raucous laughter escaped her lips. She clapped her hands together, quite enjoying the scene before her. That had just made this uneventful night a hundred times better. The only thing she wished was different, was that she was on the receiving end of that kiss, but eh, she'd work on that, heh. Before she could comment much on what happened though, it seemed Aurelia had spilled her soup on herself in her want to hurry along with her story, and was now accusing her of stealing it.

"Aww, I'm hurt, Aurelia." Senna replied with a wide grin, standing from her seat on the desert sands, taking her own bowl of soup with her. "I may be a thief by trade, but I would never dare to steal anything from a beautiful woman like yourself." She replied as she walked over to Aurelia, not caring about the gladius that may or may not pose a threat to her immediate life. She was certain she could dodge whatever Aurelia drunkenly threw at her, though Senna didn't think she'd actually do anything like that anyways.

"Except maybe a kiss since you seem to be offering them tonight." The redhead chuckled quietly. Well, that was a horrible attempt at flirting, but eh, who cares. "But uhm, if you want some soup here ya go." Senna said, offering her own to Aurelia. "I'm pretty much done with it anyways."

@Viciousmarrow

Gabe had the bottle at his lips right as Aurelia began her theatrics, and it slowly fell down to his lap as the normally stoic man's face turned comically questioning. "What the hell?" he whispered, harsh eyes now turning merely confused. The girl'd had too much drink for all of them it looked like. He'd seen women make fools of themselves because of alcohol before, but never a warrior and never in such a dramatic fashion. He then did something that he didn't think he'd do. He started laughing. No mere chuckle, either. A full blown laugh that carried across the camp.

Gabe almost didn't take the threat seriously when Aurelia beckoned Senna over, sword drawn. He decided to quiet down, stifling his laugh by coughing and patting his chest with a fist. He doubted anything would happen, but old habits kicked in. It was plain instinct when his free hand slid over to his pistol grip. He just watched the exchange between the two girls. He shook his head, figuring he knew where it was going. Somewhere that only drink could take people. His gaze switched to Senna, and he realized his initial thought was wrong. That girl would do most anything sober.

---

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---

Ava shook her head as she listened to the caravan leader boast about his second pardon by the Queen, "What sort of black mail do you have on her?" She thought, sipping at her vegetable soup which was severely lacking in salt. Her eyes looked past Hannibal as he raved on, examining each face around the circle as much as the illumination of camp fire flames would let her.

Just as she set her gaze on the exotic, awkward woman that she had met earlier in the day a silhouette blocked her view. Looking up, she noticed it to be her famous researcher acquaintance. While she had no previous knowledge of him, Hannibal was so kind as to provide some during their conversation earlier. Urs Uring; a book smart man, though clearly lacking in street smarts. Nonetheless, he might prove valuable in a sticky situation. She immediately returned his friendly smile, her somber attitude doing yet another 180. "Evenin' Urs! Of course I don't mind, take a seat on my luxurious sofa here." She patted the sand next to her, currently sitting on the ground cross legged.

"Honorable? I am not sho shure 'bout dat, Hannibal!"

Ava leaned over to look around Urs, noticing Aurelia jumping to her feet and knocking over her dinner. She smirked and made eye contact with her companion again, "It seems you are just in time to join me for more Nekroz entertainment." She laughed a bit, gluing her eyes to the female warrior who was very obviously drunk. After weeks of tracking Aurelia, Ava already knew that Aurelia wasn't usually one to drink so heavily. Aurelia was most likely a light weight, or she had been drinking since the afternoon... or both.

"However... He eyed me wish dose hawkish eyesh of hish, ash if I wash nothing but a piece o' meat."

Strangely, the Nekroz woman began eyeing Ava with her own "hawkish" eyes. As Aurelia marched her way over and pushed Urs out of the way, Ava raised a brow and set her bowl of soup off to the side. "Now that wasn't very n-" She wasn't able to get the words out before Aurelia forcefully grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet. Ava stumbled a few times as Aurelia swayed her body to and fro, though eventually she caught up with her new dance partners movements. At this point it was simply better to go along with the woman's antics rather than take her down in front of everyone. Plus, the damn woman had an iron grip around her hand.

Shivers traveled through Ava's spine as Aurelia's hand wandered further down her lower back, their faces edging closer together. Aurelia reeked of alcohol, enough for the both of them. The thought of twisting Aurelia's hand backwards, stepping out of her embrace and putting her into an arm lock crossed her mind for a brief moment, but it was too late to do anything. Aurelia sloppily pressed her lips to Ava's, causing the brunette's emerald eyes to grow wide and tense her body in shock. Ava pushed her away, though Aurelia just giggled and danced away from her without a care in the world. She narrowed her eyes on Aurelia as she finished her story before turning and heading back to Urs. Surely a better companion to have than Aurelia. "Should've killed her when I had the chance..."

"Did you enjoy the show?" Ava laughed as she found her previous spot, sitting down in the sand once again. She wouldn't let the crowd, nor Urs, know that she had been so annoyed with Aurelia. It was better to remain indifferent to it. It was not so much the kiss that had irked her, so much as Aurelia's complete disregard for approval. Quite like Aurelia's oh-so hated Mr. Evans, ironically enough.

_{@Inuyasha@Viciousmarrow}

Hannible merely watched the spectacle unfolding in front of him, hand casually drifting to his sword as the clearly drunk guardswoman began waving hers about. It turned out his worries were for naught though, so he soon returned his attention to the food in front of him. If the drinking from earlier had affected him at all it was not evident, although whether that was because he had been drunk the entire time, or had some untold levels of tolerance had yet to be seen. Drunk or not, he finished his soup quietly while the women around the campfire caused their commotion.

He had considered, briefly, pointing out that suggesting Evans was not corrupt did not at all suggest he was a good human being, but that was a discussion for a different day. He suspected trying to have any sensible debate about it right now would end poorly. His bruised stomach throbbed at the memory of the Nekroz woman's violent streak. First she hits him, then she makes like she planned to stab someone over a bowl of soup. Not exactly a woman of soft temperament, despite her initial impression. He made a mental note to never hand her a bottle of wine again.

Trying to end the scene before it got even more crazy, Hannibal got to his feet and began clapping slowly.

"A good show, a good show you two! Does anyone else wish to regale us with tales of their exploits? Surely we've all had some adventure in our lives, no? Some accomplishment of pride? No need to be modest! After all, when this journey is done it shall be all of our greatest achievements! Every one of us."

He turned to look each of those gathered in the eyes as he spoke, hoping to compel at least one of them to stand and speak. Hannibal himself had plenty of tales yet to tell of course, but he was as content to share the spotlight as steal it. Besides, with the shear scope of his adventures over the years it wouldn't surprise him if he had been involved with one or more of these people in some capacity or the other.

Gabe sat still as a statue. A silent sentinel watching his team and their antics. Hannible's question had his dark eyes gazing about, and he waited for someone to inevitably respond to him. When it seemed like 3 days since their flamboyant leader spoke, Gabe decided to throw his hat into the ring. He spit into the dirt, and sat forward ever so slighty. His voice carried across the fire.
"Few years back, there was a cartel deal gone wrong." he began. "Roy O'tate and his boys fucked up some deal bad, wound up getting most of 'em killed. Roy and his last dozen or so men got bounties on their heads as a result. Sent most of them scattering to the Four winds. Some of 'em got caught and sentenced to hangin'. Roy and his last 4 were fixing to get some revenge, from what I hear. But I wasn't there for them scheming. I was there for their deaths."

He let the words hang in the air, and took a swig from his bottle after a moment. Clearing his throat, he continued. "Turns out there was a small gulley 'round the other side of Oasis that Roy claimed as his own. Not sure how it got there. Been no water around there since my family can recall...anyway, got a tip from an old friend and went scouting out that way. Found one of Roy's men up top taking a piss right at dusk. Killed him quiet. Just used the knife. I checked over the ledge of the hole, and saw what had to be a mistake. But ol' Roy was talking to one of the noble women on the upper houses. Forgot the gal's name, but from their conversation, it looked like they're to be making some form of alliance somehow, sealed with a kiss. From what I remember, she had a ring on her finger, and I bet my father's soul that it wasn't belonging to Roy."

Gabe shook his head. and shrugged. "4 shots from my rifle took out the last 3 of Roy's men, and the last one went clean through Roy's heart right when he's about to fire back at me. That gal though...begged me for her life. Pleaded. Says she was a hostage, which I knew was horseshit. But I couldn't bring myself to kill her, neither. So I took her ring for my own sake, brought the heads of Roy and his boys back to the cartel, got a nice payment for it. Last I heard, that Lady was found dead under mysterious circumstances. Seems her husband didn't take too kindly to her reasoning for being out there. That's how it is I guess."