Dimitri
The monk had decided to visit with Twain upon their return to Tridents HQ. Happy as he was to be out of that bitter cold and crumbling rubble the tin cans that served as Tridents Mobile Head Quarters was almost equally depressing. The monk had no love for Twain’s Magic, but his knowledge on the topic of magic was the closest thing the monk would come to his homelands where magic was a very well known and present entity. Since the artisans had mastered the refinement of Catalysts, magic was almost as common to the Temperance people as electricity or running water. But Dimitri would find none of it here. The Ebb and Flow of Earth’s magic was a completely different animal than the familiar presence of the natural magical currents back home. He paused outside of Twain’s Conference room, raised the flask to his lips and took a long pull before returning it to its home on his waist. He paused in the doorway for a moment fascinated with the motion sensor and how the female voice of that door constantly reminded people to step through so it could close.

Dimitri’s eye’s fell upon the old leather bound book and he chuckled at how ancient and arcane it looked, happy to have plenty of booze to get him through the next little while.
“That book reminds me of some of the library’s back home, the only thing missing here are the unseen guardians that are able to toss a man across the room should he step out of line...but alas, booze is booze. It works on them too! His eyes rested on Twains. “I’ve come to listen Twain; simply because I can think of nowhere else to go right now and your magic is the closest thing to home I have as uneasy as it makes me feel…Anyone care for a drink?”

Natasha
She had been assigned private quarters back at Trident’s Head quarters and granted relatively moderate security clearance to their database which she was thankful for. No one would bother her there, and if they decided to, she had a few cameras along the route to her quarters so she would see them coming. The office attached to her quarters reminded her of some of the field stations she had been assigned to for MOON. Inconspicuous but full of technology, and the fiery red head supposed this might have been an area put aside specifically for MOON Agents on the rare occasion that they were attached to Trident.

Something had been bothering her for a while. Something that Mikkel had mentioned during the dead man’s grim interview with Twain. Something he had mentioned but things had escalated so rapidly at the castle she hadn’t the time to really think more on the subject of Slay until she was back at the base.
‘Slay...Yes I remember that name from somewhere...Hibiscus and her dusty old photograph. Shit, I have to find Tristan. He was in that picture too damn it.’ she thought to herself. A few moments later she rose from the desk and moved towards the door only to pause mid stride debating with herself whether or not she should go and talk to him or just let it alone for a while.

Dayna
The elemental sprite had wandered around Trident's base for a while aimlessly before catching sight of Dimitri and she had decided to follow him she floated into the room slowly behind the monk then drifted towards Twain her two orbs staring at him scrutinizingly as if she were wiling them to burn holes into that fancy, long dark coat of his. "Mr Twain do you have a body under all of that coat or are you simply just air?" her eyes narrowed "You don't feel like air, but I have yet to see you without that coat on."

Wolfe was amazed by the types of weapons he found within the armory. After a moment of thought he guessed he shouldn’t be too surprised. There were a fair amount of fire arms. Carbines, long rifles, shot guns, sum machine guns, regular machine guns. That was all well and fine for the two marines, it was the other weaponry that caught their attention.
Swords, axes, pikes, lances the whole nine yards. Some were normal melee weapons, other seem to be more. A lot had intricate designs and scripts, possibly enchantments or wards. After a while Icarus showed up, seemingly popped outta nowhere. No real words were exchanged aside from a simple nod to each other.
After a while he began roaming the armory checking out the work done by both Hirsch and Wolfe.
Wolfe noticed the tattoos, at first thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, but his peripheral vision is outstanding and after a few minutes he knew that those tattoos moved when not directly stared at. When Icarus moved further away from the group Hirsch piped up.

“Dude…what’s up with comrade Boris’s tattoos?” He asked Hirsch.
“I don’t think he’s Russian, Joe.” Wolf chuckled. “But I know what you mean, if you don’t look directly at them, they seem to move.” He replied.
Hirsch then began to try and not look at Icarus, but kept looking directly at him.

“Son of a bitch this is harder that it looks.” He sighed.
Wolfe looked toward Icarus as he walked by, “How’s everything looking?” He asked.

@Affili@Eyeris

The blank pages annoyed Charles, almost laughing at him. Of course, he should’ve known there would’ve been a catch to such information. Though he couldn’t deny it was impressive the parchment had even survived this long given its apparent age.

“Well…” Charles held onto the last syllable.

“I must admit the offer is very tempting.” He spoke like a reluctant customer. “but before I do accept I hope you don’t mind that I ask for a few specifics? Given my own magic I’m just curious how it might interact or even if it is even possible I could learn.”

"Furthermore." His voice took a more serious tone, and he closed the book. "How dangerous is this going to be? And how much will this training affect my current responsibilities?"

"Not that I mean to be rude, but I hope you understand given the apparent...nature." Charles didn't look convinced that was the word he wanted. "of necromancy I do have some reservations. But none-the-less it would be a very interesting thing to learn if I might be given a day or two to mull over your generous offer."

While Charles response hadn't been a yes it wasn't a no either by any stretch.

---

Shannon decided that she liked Zesiro and considered him to be a very kind and curious Human. Never-the-less she was grateful to have the last of the machines removed and allowed to step off the examination table to at least attempt to stretch herself out.

“I okay Zesiro friend.” Flashing a twisted grin Shannon quickly, on all six limbs, headed towards the door. “Let’s be another place. I no like this place.”

The door would be opened either by Zesiro opening it or Shannon breaking it open and twisting her large mass through. Regardless, Shannon didn’t like the corridor any better than the room; the lights were too bright and the walls were too white. Shannon barely repressed a shiver at how much this ‘Submarine’ reminded her off C.E.M. Even the big machines TRIDENT used were similar with the only difference was where Shannon sat.

How did Humans even get underwater in the first place? Maybe there was a window somewhere she could look through at the fishes.

“TRIDENT scary strange. TRIDENT like C.E.M, but not.” Shannon frowned as she tried to understand the concept. “We see fishies?”

@RokkuHoshi

Winston searched the other's eyes for a moment as he went on about the other creature he might know of.

His lips pressed together. "No. We did not find any others from your world..."

"What kind of Rift... well.. We don't really know. We didn't open it. We don't know who did or what their intentions were. It seems to have produced many beings form other worlds and planes and..." He stopped himself short of saying Children's cartoons unsure if the creature would be prepared for such information yet.

"Let us walk and talk..." He walked to the door and opened it himself, striding along and leading the pony down a long corridor. "This planet is called Earth, it is round." Apparently not all worlds were globular. "It is inhabited by humans, like myself, there are other animals but none with our level of sentience. We have languages, culture, civilization, architecture... Other animals on this world do not have these things. Magic does exist here but it is not so common as it appears to be on your world."

@Eyeris

Rockin' noticed the man twisted the knob, nodding. "That's why it wouldn't open." he said softly as he began following.

"That makes me special." Rockin' smiled, standing a bit straighter. "Aren't all worlds round? Science would suggest so. Don't you think?" He shrugged with a frown and continued listening.

With the doctor's explanation, Rockin' began understanding how this world worked differently than his own. "What were all those machines in that room we left?" he asked, looking up at him.

Fight back. That word brought back memories of his past two years before the rift, and how Rozalind said it was exactly how Wehren worked. To fight back against those who would harm the ones that couldn't help themselves. It was funny that he just moved from one secret organization to another that seemed to work similar. When Rozalind mentioned how Necromancers were the worst, XIII smiled.

"I'd say that's a matter of perspective," XIII said before grimacing slightly. He rubbed the tattoo along the back of his hand before continuing. "For me, personally, I'd say Mentalism, well, our Inherent Mentalists would be the worst. Those people can take everything from you without a second thought." The air around him started growing warmer as he worked himself up. "Your memories, your name, even your-" He hissed in pain and glanced at his hand. Funny, he hadn't even noticed that he had clenched it into a fist. He glanced at Rozalind. "Sorry, touchy subject." It wasn't often that his anger got the better of him. Taking a few deep breaths, he calmed down, and the temperature around him dropped back to normal.

Thinking over what Rozalind had said, a thought occurred to him. "You said the outer circle was from Occultic magic. I take it that the second circle was from Necromancy?"

Vaughtar really tried to, but still all his silent effort ended in him still not being happy about what Rozalind had had to say.

"So you are essentially telling us to prepare for something we don't know yet. Then I honestly see no point in you ranting at us here. Neither will deafening us and driving us into defeatism by telling us how much we potentially sucked improve our physical prowess while we stand in this gym not execising nor will keeping us away from analyzing the recently collected information do the same thing in the intellectual realm. If you'd excuse me, please ?"

The gargoyle's voice was far from unfriendly even though it was -- as usual -- the very core of the definition of 'chesty' and 'roaring', but he walked away subtly exhibiting a certain stop-me-if-you-can attitude. The question now however was where to go -- and if Rozalind would decide to catch up with him and fire back, noticing the noticeably buckled metal gratings his steps left behind in the process. He planned to keep his implied promise and give himself an update on the research front, but afterwards there was another task pending: having a drink with Zesiro...

Dimitri and Dayna:

Dimitri scauffed at Charles' question about the dangers of necromancy. "Oh it's not terribly dangerous. Raising spectres and dead things from the ashes and all. Vengeful spirits andhte likes. It's a very constructive art...Litteraly."the monk laughed at his own whitisism unsure if Charles would really get it. Twain might though. His remarks would probably be of no help to Charle's decision or Twain's efforts to recruit him, but the monk could not help himself.

Dayna floated patiently with an expectant glare in her eyes as she awaited Twain's response to her question. She was truly curious about the Necromancer's coat. Earth had proven a strange place thus far and its inhabitants were even more stranger to the elemental sprite. Magic, secret organizations, war... So many things to learn.

Natasha

The fiery red head had decided afterall that it was a good a time as any to hunt down Tristan. The more she had sat in her room to dilliberate the more apparent it had become that she needed to meet with him. She had stopped at the mess hall for a cup of coffee then had asked one of the uniformed Trident for directions to Tristians office where she now sat in a small waiting room to wait for him. It had taken a lot of restraint for the MOON operative not to render the man's secretary unconcious after she rather flusteredly told Natasha she needed to make an appointment, but after a little persuasion, the secretary had reluctanly excused herself to see if Tristan was available.

@Affili


Tristan and Natasha

Tristan's office, was a large rectangular office, there was more space than furniture. There was dim blue light was cast from the many 'windows'. In the windows showed blue water and a few fish swimming about at their leisure. The office was in the middle of the submarine, not near the edge where a porthole would show the ocean. Nor was it that there were fish tanks in the room. It was that Tristan built the submarine had labyrinth of ‘water vents’ running through it. He turned away from one of the panes to talk to the lady.

Tristan was a tall man. He had messy matted hair. He tried to look sharp, you could tell that he had put a comb to it earlier that day and tried to part it to one side or the other, it slowly curled back in quiet defiance. He had all the ingredients necessary to be considered handsome: He was well muscled, thick dark hair, deep blue eyes... The man was simply awkward and uncomfortable unless he was swimming… Then he looked beautiful, powerful and graceful. The rest of the time he his large sagging blue eyes would always look a little sad and his lanky limbs would always get in the way.

“Natasha. It is good to see you." He sat down, his desk was large, without much paperwork or clutter on it. There was an old ships compass made of polished brass. The desk itself was a dark wood. “I have been wanting to talk to you, about your vacation… But perhaps, first, you should tell why you wanted to see me.” He folded his hands on his lap and leaned back to listen. He liked talking to fish more than to people, but, no one could say he was not a good listener and a considerate leader. Some might find his leadership style to be too soft, Tristan was a kind soul at heart, his passion to help others built TRIDENT rather than ambitions for either power or control over others.

@cpldingo

Icarus, Wolfe, Hirsh.
Icarus paused to turn and look at Wolfe. He did not answer with words, instead with a ‘thumbs up’ signal. This black eyes and his face were shockingly unexpressive considering the elaborate and downright lively artwork on his body. Perhaps, it was his way of expressing himself in a way that his face and voice could not. (In truth, Icarus had sold his soul for power. That is another story.)

He then beckoned the two with a gesture to follow him down the row. He began to pull items from the stock. Slinging rifles over his shoulders, tucking a blades into boots, pouches clipped to his belt, he strapped a pair of blackened gauntlets onto his arms.

He would also hand things to the other two soldiers every so often. He hefted a large knife, he twirled it in the air, testing its weight. Tossed it up and caught it by the blade, then handed it to Hirshe handle-forward. He also gave him apistol covered in runes, and a set of bracers and an armored vest… Which, upon further inspection looked like modified medieval chest plate and gauntlets. The metal had been blackened and reshaped in some places to fit a more modern warrior.

He gave Wolfe weapons as and armor as well. A he pinned a badge on Wolfe’s shoulder, it was in the shape of a wolf (Perhaps this was amusing to Icarus, but he didn't laugh) he also handed him a tomahawk, feathered and all, and a larger heavier gun.

Icarus turned to the two when he seemed satisfied with how they were all outfitted. He gestured for them to follow, he would lead them out of the armory.

They crossed paths with Dzel outside. “Oh, there you are…” She was much shorter than all three of them, and looked over the trio with curiosity before looking up at their faces questioningly. “What are you guys up to?”

Icarus pointed ahead, made the classic ‘gun hand’ shape and mimed shooting it off a few times. Then pointed the gun-hand at Dzel, pausing, then opening the hand toward her, and gestured in the direction they were going. An invitation.

“You mean the gun range? No, thank you. I was looking for Wolfe actually. Tristan wants to see him.”

Icarus shrugged, dropping his hands and beckoning for Hirshe to keep following him. He clapped Wolfe on the shoulder and continued down the hallway. Icarus looked back over his shoulder at the two with his black eyes. He smiled. Then kept walking on.

Dzel turned to Wolfe “I’ll walk you to his office. Sorry, I bet you were looking forward to that. They can give you access to the shooting range later, I’m sure.”

She would lead Wolfe up to Tristian’s office. The secretary would let them in. Tristian would be in his office with Natasha… Dzel would not join them. If Wolfe wanted to talk to her he would do so on their way or before going into the office.

@Affili@Arty Fox

Twain, Charles, Danya, Dimitri
Twain smiled broadly at Dimitri. “Yeah! This guy’s got the long and short of it! People think it is all evil and doom and gloom… Against the natural order of things… But ah… You know, doctors and healers and such are bringing people away from the brink of death! We do the same thing, we just go to the other side some time to get it done. I think it makes me a better doctor!”

Twain went through to address the other questions. “I don’t think your little trick would be a problem. I think that would make it even more fun!” He smiled devilishly. “I mean… It might not work, I suppose. I won’t lie either, it is downright risky. It might kill you. Like… Kill-kill. Like, In a way that you can’t come back from.”

“As for your work responsibilities, it’s pretty convenient because you are already on my team. We’d still be working together the way we are now, but, I’d start training you as my apprentice also. You’ll get a raise and we’d figure it out. It is a valuable skill set. There aren’t a ton of us in TRIDENT, or, in general...” He looked down at the book.

“I’m an old guy now. Like, soon I’ll be a proper geezer! Don’t do this if you have any idea in your head that you can be immortal, that isn’t one of the tricks. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about passing along my knowledge and the ‘ol book for awhile now.” He touched the leather reverently. “It’s only proper, I think.”

“But yeah, you think on it!” He looked to his audience which was now three.

Danya fascinated Twain. She basically seemed to be a sentient elemental force. He swore he could feel her coming a mile away. As a gamer he kinda wanted to bottle her up and run around in a green tunic! As a wizard he wanted to understand more about what she could do as an energetic being. As a pervert he wanted to understand more about what she could do as an energetic being. As a heavy drinker Dimitri was the one to spark his interest.

“What you got brewin’ today? Maybe a drink will help loosen up Charlie boy here.”

@Fetzen@Konan375

Rozalind and XIII and Vaughtar

Rozalind noticed XIII’s flash of anger, but respected him when he choice to remain silent about it. It was tacky in TRIDENT to ask about anyone’s past. His past and his anger belonged to him. She had plenty of her own to carry as well.

She flexed the fingers on her wounded arm, mirroring his action unconsciously.

That is when Vaughtar spoke up. Rozalind narrowed her eyes and openly glared at him through his entire speech. Then rolled her eyes when once he walked out the door. She huffed and walked over to a punching bag. Her wounded arm wasn’t in a sling any longer, but it was still wrapped up in tape. She continued to open and close her fist experimentally. She touched the bag with her knuckles, but didn’t strike it yet.

“Yes, definitely necromancy. The symbols were written in blood and everything.”

@Arty Fox@Fetzen

Shannon and Zesiro

“Yeah. Let’s go see… Fishies…” He got her out of the medical room, and they wound around the metal halls until they came to a place where the wall was a huge pane of glass. On the way he explained: “We got down here in this big machine thing called a submarine. Like a boat that can go underwater. The base is actually a fleet of submarines. Tristan move them around to help keep hidden.”

There were lots and lots of fishies.
All kinds of fish. Bright and beautiful. Shimmering scales and big googly eyes. There were a few sharks and an octopus stuck onto the glass on the other side. They all swam together peaceably. They were not looking into a giant fish tank, they were looking into the deep and open ocean. The school of sea-creatures followed the submarine as it traveled.

“I’m pretty sure there is a lot of magic helping out the submarines. Tristan, he is like Aquaman… Who you wouldn’t know… Uuuuh… He’s basically got powers or magic that work in the ocean.” He pointed at the fish. “They wouldn’t normally do this. Normally they’d be eating each other or something. He can talk to them... I’m actually not sure if they follow him around because he makes them or because they like him... I never asked...”

“Yeah. I don’t like TRIDENT either… What’s… C.E.M?”

If/when Vaughtar arrived. Zesiro would acknowledged him with a nod and a grunt. “Hey.”

@RokkuHoshi

Winston and Rokin

“That’s all medical equipment. Monitoring your vitals and such while you were unconscious. Also to try and figure out how to help you best. We have creatures that are… Ah… Almost like you, in our world. They are called horses. But your biology is different. We weren't sure what to expect when you woke up, if you would be sentient or not, or hostile even." He smiled. "This whole thing is quite a shock for all of us, especially those of you who have come through and into this strange new world. I can't even imagine what I would do in your shoes... or hooves..."

"I wear shoes." he smirked, showing the man the bottom of one of his hooves. "I wouldn't guess it's all that good on the tile but... meh." With the sound, he shrugged and tilted his head. "It's not far to the others, right? I can already hear some voices. What all have you found?" He was letting his curiosity get the better of him as he began imagining all sorts of beings that could be in that room. Not all of them made sense, such as a being made entirely of stone, but he could see strange beings from strange worlds working as strange as, if not stranger than, what he was coming up with.

Natasha eyed the rude secretary furiously as she was waved through to Tristan's office. Perhaps the lady was just jealous. Tristan was after all easy on the eyes and if his secretary did not have him to look at all day whom else could she fantasize about? Some deep sea creature or a school of scatterbrained fish?

She shut the door behind her and watched quietly as Tristian sat down at his large rather empty desk.
“I would expect the leader of TRIDENT to have at least some small semblance of work scattered across their desk...I mean damn, you don't even have a coffee cup hanging around this desk are you just the handsome face of public relations or what?”
She paused for a moment and looked back towards the door then leaned towards Tristan revealing her neatly presented cleavage
“By the way, I think your secretary is jealous of me or something because of this little one on one we’re having right now...Perhaps a little over possessive I don't know. She seems kind of stuck up and miserable and maybe a little fat!”
The MOON operative sat back in her chair once more and was silent for a few minutes as she considered Tristan's words.
“Well let's see, the vacation was fine and dandy, got some sexy tan lines out of it. Everything was great until the MOON operatives stopped updating me and I came back to work then found out that all of my fellow operatives were you know….gone whilst attached to TRIDENT and this god forsaken floating fortress you live on. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?”
Her emerald eyes glared at the man across the desk and just as he drew breath to speak she cut him off
“By the way! I don't know if you've heard yet since you look so busy and all at the moment, but the ritual site has since been destroyed. Everything's gone. Well mostly everything save for a few bits and pieces the team managed to scoop up while we were valliantly avoiding our demise once those ruins crumbled...It was a magical related demolition.” she held a hand up to stop him then continued
“A destruction equivalent to several pounds of fucking C4”
Her eyes shifted to the photograph Tristian kept in his office then returned to him once more.
“Twain was able to interrogate one of the ritualists before the place fell though. He wrenched a good bit of information from the reanimated corpse before its puppet master cut the strings though. Information, Plans...Names” the words trailed off as the desecrated corpse's words echoed in her mind. The red head shook herself free of the memories then looked at Tristan once more as she deliberated if he was trustworthy enough for her to continue. “He mentioned Slay...Tristian. It may have been just ramblings of a dieing dead man but he did mention Slay.” She fell silent after that and gazed into Tristian's eyes intently. “You remember that name don't you.”

Dimtri

“Ahhhh the brew of the day?” Dimitri scratched his head absently and shifted his eyes to their upper left corners as he tried to recall how long he had actually had his latest brew then abandoned the task with a shrug.
“Not sure how long it's been really! Days, weeks perhaps.” He flipped the flask upside down and tapped the Water Catalyst that was embedded into the base. “The water catalyst makes it hard to tell you see! Refills the thing with water whenever I need it! I mean after a while the brew loses its potency, but it never runs dry unless I want it to!” He bragged with a slightly inebriated smile before plunging a hand deep within his robes. He withdrew a well worn leather pouch and tossed in on a nearby table so that its contents spilled out. “These are the herbs and mushrooms and grasses I gathered on my last excursion into the Eastern Ridges of Temperance though. It's what I had on me when I fell from my Windstrider after the effects of a different brew hit me full on! The rest of my stash was in one of the saddlebags.”
Dimitri paused suddenly, patting at his robes before plunging his hand into them once more.
“Oh yes and these too!” He tossed some bits of dried tree bark onto the table beside the pouch then proudly swept an arm over the ingredients as his grin broadened.
“So lets see. Now all we need is some kind of boiled sweet tree sap and an airtight keg to pour it all into. We reboil everything, pour it out and seal our keg for a few days so that the tree bark can do its thing and trigger fermentation! And just like that, we can have a new Dimitri's brew of the day...You guys have an alchemy lab on this tin can anywhere?” he asked as he passed the flask to Twain so he could examine it.
“You won't be able to activate the catalyst though, it was fused with my soul essence before the final enchantment but if you have an empty glass, I'll give you a little demonstration.”
The monk slid an empty Siva Coffee Co cup towards Twain and chuckled. “Go ahead, empty the flask but don't spill it though. It's a fine brew indeed! feel free to have a sip while you watch.” He added with a wicked smile.

He turned his attention to Dayna “You want to try it too?”
she narrowed her eyes in aggravation and answered flatly
“No fleshling. I am a ball of energy. I an not solid and so, I'm certain it would simply fall right through me and puddle onto the floor. As entertaining as it would be to see you lapping it all up, I find the notion of drinking plants and dirty things unappealing.”
“Oh really now? Then tell us. If you find eating and drinking things so unappealing how do you sustain yourself?” he countered with a grin
“I didn’t say that you fool. I said dirty things”
“Suit yourself, but you don't know what you're missing. Dirty things always taste the best!” He finished with a laugh.

If Dayna was not so interested in the monk's upcoming demonstration, she would have left the room right then to pursue a much more productive way to pass her time so instead; she just floated there, burning the monk with her spiteful glare, unable to decided what annoyed her the most; How he so blissfully ignored her glares, or the fact that he always seemed to be grinning.

Wolfe and Hirsch followed Icarus in tow. He hasn't said anything, but communicated fairly well, that, or the two marines are just accustomed to using hand and arm signals, especially when they had to leave the wire at night and had to remain silent. Well as silent as one could in a country filled with trash and dogs that bark at the slightest movement. Wolfe took pride in the fact that his fire team was usually nominated for any sort of quasi-covert ops while on deployment.

Wolfe spends most of his free time reading war manuals written by U.S. army or Marine personnel, as well as books dealing with ancient battles and civilizations- his knowledge of the enemy, force on force, and tactical appraisal is bar none.

"War hasn't really changed in the last five thousand years," Wolfe would remark, "just the methodology has changed. Sure weapons and tactics have evolved, but the logistical issues when moving a large force remains the same. Any and all issues dealing with morale, leadership traits, the fog of war, and the enemy and their patterns.... Hasn't changed since man first fought man in scale."

But now however, Wolfe wasn't so sure. Sure history has had its fair share of covert missions, spies, and proxy wars... But... To keep this kind of secret war so well hidden from the locals, let alone everyone on the planet, blew Wolfes mind, and shattered what he thought he knew about the history of war. Given the weaponry he had seen in the armory, maybe he didn't know as much as he gave himself credit for. With the existence of magic Wolfe will have to re-evaluate the essence of warfare. Adapt and overcome, he thought to himself.

Icarus began handing the marines weapons and gear. He placed a pair of black gauntlets on, and began placing pistols into holsters, knives into his boots, slung a couple of rifles. The first appeared to be a standard FAMAS French made automatic rifle in a bullpup design (magazine inserted behind trigger assembly) and an older style bolt action rifle, possibly a Remington .308. Icarus grabbed a large rather imposing knife, he tossed it in the air and grabbed it by the blade, and he handed it over to Hirsch via hilt first.

With a big stupid grin he gladly accepted the knife, then the sheath, and attached it to his belt. Hirsch was then handed an antique Colt .45 with runed markings on the grip. Hirsch was elated. He gleefully accepted the pistol.

"Ohmygodshessopretty!!" he remarked fast, pulling back on the slide three times, each time letting the slide snap forward, then squeezing the trigger, a functions test.

"Her name shall be Sheri," he said softly, lovingly, and then gingerly holstered his new favorite pistol.
Hirsch was then handed a set of bracers, and what he had at first thought was a medieval breast plate. Further inspection showed that to not be the case. The armor, felt like steel, but weighed even less than his flak jacket. There were interlocking plates that allowed for free range of motion. As if someone made a special polymer armor, designed for the body coverage of a knight, but the operational integrity of a modern warfighter.

"Bro...First this gun, now this bad ass armor? Dude...you’re like...the scary Russian version of Santa!" he exclaimed. Only to be punched in the arm by Wolfe, the punch hurt Wolfe, he had used his bandaged hand to punch Hirsch.

"He ain't Russian you stooge! At least I don't think he is..."Icarus walked to Wolfe and placed a Wolf shaped badge on his shoulder. Wolfe could swear he saw a smile in the man's eyes.

"Awesome, thanks," he chuckled. Wolfe genuinely liked the badge, "this is so going on my armor" he said before he was handed his own set of bracers and armor, same as Hirsch's. What got Wolfe however, was what he was handed next.

It was a rifle, quiet large, at first Wolfe thought it to be the standard issue M40A1 that is usually issued to Marine Corps snipers. Upon further inspection it couldn’t be further from the truth, in all actuality the weapon seemed, old, very old. Steampunk came to mind. He shouldered the rifle and aimed down the scope, fairly standard, but the cross hairs were odd, something he wasn’t used to. The weapon had a good weight to it, and even though it looked a bit awkward, the balance was perfect. Confused though, Wolfe could not tell where any ammunition was to go, or any bolt to prime a round… damn magic weapons he thought, but he was grateful for the opportunity.

Icarus then motioned for them to follow him, to a shooting a range. Both marines were excited to test out new weaponry, especially one as interesting as this rifle. That is until Dzel came up to them-

"Oh, there you are…” She was much shorter than all three of them, and looked over the trio with curiosity before looking up at their faces questioningly. “What are you guys up to?”
Icarus pointed ahead, made the classic ‘gun hand’ shape and mimed shooting it off a few times. Then pointed the gun-hand at Dzel, pausing, then opening the hand toward her, and gestured in the direction they were going. An invitation.

“You mean the gun range? No, thank you. I was looking for Wolfe actually. Tristan wants to see him.”
Icarus shrugged, dropping his hands and beckoning for Hirsch to keep following him. He clapped Wolfe on the shoulder and continued down the hallway. Icarus looked back over his shoulder at the two with his black eyes. He smiled. Then kept walking on.

Dzel turned to Wolfe “I’ll walk you to his office. Sorry, I bet you were looking forward to that. They can give you access to the shooting range later, I’m sure.”

“Not a problem, I’m adaptable,” he replied. He motioned her forward, “Lead on ma’am.”

They walked in silence for the most part until they reached the office in question. The secretary waved them in. A man sat at the desk. He seemed battle hardy, as if he spent some time in the suck. At the same time, looks like office life has gotten to him, a nice tan, hands seemed like they haven’t seen any hard labor in a while. But his awkwardness proved to Wolfe he was meant for the field not the office.

He noticed Natasha as well, the attractive red head sat, with her arms folded, she seemed pissed. Wolfe gave her a small private smile and a polite nod, he didn’t mean to, but unintentionally looked at the cleavage that was apparent. Last time Wolfe had seen Natasha she was in full gear and winter garb, what with being on top of a mountain in snowy Russia, now she sat in tighter fit more practical clothing for indoors. She had a nice figure. Wolfe had to shake the image, it had been awhile since he had been engaged in antics with the opposite sex. Wolfe spent most of his time trying to stay productive… Hirsch was the man whore.

“Corporal Wolfe reporting as a requested,” He said to Tristan. Wolfe assumed a modified position of parade rest. Granted this guy wasn’t a military officer, but Wolfe is a creature of protocol, and in any other normal situation this is almost exactly how he would act if his superiors called him to their office, of course he would have been at the position of attention, but he figured the standards were a bit more lax in his current environment.

Charles took a moment to mull over Twain’s words and felt rather humbled by them. He too looked down at the book and thought about what secrets it might hold. Dimitris words, and alcoholic stench, quickly brought Charles out of his little daydream and he recomposed himself.

“Well in that case, I suppose I must accept your proposal Twain.” He smiled with an almost sing-song tone.

“Wouldn’t mind a taste actually, long as it hasn’t got any nuts in it.”

The ingredients scattered across the tabled instantly snatched his attention and then followed by the promise of a demonstration, Charles looked practically giddy with excitement. Necromancy was one thing, a strange and enticing of magic, but fauna from another world entirely was something else!

“We do actually, several in fact, though I would suggest the Chemical Lab A2. Don’t suppose you could tell me the name of all these? Some of them look familiar; certain I’ve seen one or two on my walks but that one over there I am certain is new to me.”

Gabbling away at a hundred miles a second Charles pointed a pen he had drawn from nowhere at the mushroom.

“The way you describe the tree bark, it sounds just like Yeast works in our world; tiny micro-organisms that convert carbohydrates into alcohol. Frankly the idea of there being an equivalent in another world is as outstanding as the rest of this entire scenario.” For just a second Charles paused for breath and followed the flask as it travelled across the room.

“Anyway moving, could we put that little catalyst crystal under a few tests? Namely to see how it works and such, does it produce fresh water? How much can it produce at any one time? That sort of thing?”


Shannon stared at the fish, armoured by their beauty. The only fish she had seen had been the grey and brown ones of rivers and lakes. But these ones were different; their scales shone with many different colours in the light as they floated gently in and out of few. Shannon swayed her tail happily from side to side.

“I like only fishies in water. But fishies in Bad Place not in water, I not like fishies in Bad Place.”

Some Shannon recognised as fishies of some sort but others looked more like monsters with eyes and mouths too big, and one or two without either. She pressed her head against the glass trying to follow the one that looked like a plastic bag with strings dangling out the bottom.

“TRIDENT is run by Monster?” The snake poking out of Shannon’s mouth tilted its head at Zesiro. “TRIDENT not C.E.M.”

Zesiros question made her tail stop. To her, a human not knowing what C.E.M was, it was a very strange thing. A small growl arose from the back of her throat and she focussed all her eyes upon the fishies.

“C.E.M is Bad, Bad Place.” Her hackles rose along her spine and Shannon pressed a paw to her empty eye socket. “Agents take Monsters. Agents hurt Monsters. I no like C.E.M.”

The moment didn’t even get a chance to past when caught the whiff of a familiar smell; one that smells of stone and the outside. All the tension in her body left when she turned to follow it leading around the corner.

“Vaughtar Friend?” She didn’t move from the window until Vaughtar emerged. “Vaughtar Friend!”

She lolloped towards him and attempt to lift him up in her arms with happy grin. Shannon liked Vaughtar on account of how he actually looked like a Monster should and not somewhat like a human.

“Hello Vaughtar Friend. How you?”

But there was another smell, one that she didn’t recognise. There at the end of the hall she spotted another Not Agent and another horse looking monster.

Dimitri was happy to share the booze. The more the merrier as far as he was concerned, but he was a little more reluctant to surrender the flask for testing lest it accidentally be broken. He poured most of the booze out into the Siva Coffee Co cup and slid it towards Charles with a smile.
“No, there’s no nuts in this one. A few things but no nuts in this one! I’ll tell you after you taste it how’s that?" he snatched the cup up for a drink before Charles could touch it and held onto it as he continued.
"The catalyst can not manifest liquid from nothing, it can only replenish what is left . I’m not a sorcerer so I don’t know the exact science of it all to be honest. If I could, I would have Telvah’ra explain it all to you but alas the master sorceress is not here so you shall get my version of it all” he finished with a dramatic yet wobbly pose as he lifted the flask high above his head. The monk cleared his throat for an added effect
“This is a minor catalyst...on second thought, perhaps we should all sit down for a brief history lesson.” he hopped up on a nearby table and was silent for a few moments Then rested the cup down and settled back on his table, propping one leg up to make himself more comfortable.
“Now this little slice of history goes way, way back. Back before I was even thought of. Back before my parents were even thought of and even before the Grand Coucil and the United Craftsmen Guild!”
The monk paused to jog his memories and sift through years of research and history lessons. He looked at the cup once more then took hold of it for another drink before anyone else could get their hands on it.

There was no way these people would believe the history lesson that he was planning! After all their knowledge of magic seemed fairly limited in comparison to the lore that was common knowledge of the Temperance people.

Dimitri tapped his chin for a few minutes and took another sip then wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
“You guys are probably going to think I’m crazy but you have to try and understand that Temperance’s magical core is literally an embodiment of magical energy. As sure as the grand ocean we are buried so deep in right now, Temperance once throbbed with unchecked magic. Her magical core is considered by many as somewhat of a sentient being, with thoughts and emotions. She whispers to her people on the wind. Her Laughter can cause the very ground to shutter...Her tears; heavy enough to fill a lake...” A pause for dramatic effect...and another sip.
“So in the days of old, before the Great Terra-form, wars waged with catastrophic results. The power of those Ancient Titans is almost unfathomable. Their armies of followers were too many to count. It is agreed by lore masters across the four continents that these Titans and their followers were responsible for the Core’s initiation of what history calls The Great Terra-form. The four risen continents that is modern Temperance...All birthed from the magical abuse of those ancient people and their devastating wars. I suppose we should thank them really, but I Digress."
He distractedly tugged at a loose thread on his robe then looked up once more and continued.
"Ah yes! Absolutely All of the Titans were slain by agents of the Core during the Great Terra-form and most of their followers as well, but the few tribes that remained were forced to live within great cave systems and labyrinths without their Titans until the Core was finished with Her Terra-form. No one really knows how long the Great Terra-form took, but once it was completed and the remainder of civilization scattered across the four continents they basically had start over. The Magical energy that once so freely roamed the lands sealed forever by the Core herself." The monk sighed almost sadly
"Only several key veins exist in the new world and these are scattered across the risen continents allowing some of the Core’s magic to vent. Well after some time a group of more clever craftsmen more clever than the rest, found the locations of said veins and this is what triggered the founding of the United Craftsmen Guild and said guild later became responsible for the construction of the Mega Catalysts. Think of them as distributions hubs for most of the magical catalysts used by the people of Temperance today. These Mega Catalyst sites are heavily fortified and policed by the United Craftsmen Guild. While politics of the New world are handled by the Grand Council. Oh And Grand It is! Made up of dozens of representatives from each of the Four continents so everyone has a say in the final say...so to speak”
He chuckled at the statement then raised the cup to his lips once more taking a long drink from it.

Dimitri was unsure how the Twain and Charles would feel about him after hearing his lousy take at the history of Temperance but it did not matter to him all that much. It wa s along and complicated hstory. In fact, he half expected them to burst out laughing right there and he wouldn’t blame them if they did!

This time the monk showed the cup to Charles once he was finished drinking from it,winked, then poured the little bit left in the cup back into his flask and replaced the lid. With a serious expression on his face he mumbled a ridiculous sounding chant then shook the flask violently a few times before bursting out laughing.
"Just kidding!"

A few moments later those sensitive to magical energy would feel a strange stir in the air as Dimitri focused his energy. The crystal pulsed with a faint blue glow illuminating the monk’s hand as the catalyst responded to his soul essence and his will. In a few seconds, the monk poured more booze out into the coffee cup once more, filling it to the point that it overflowed.
He smiled triumphantly as he slid the cup towards Charles finally gesturing for him to take a drink.
“Well have at it Charles! Dimitri’s finest! Well perhaps not my finest but damned good either way.”

The concoction would be ice cold as if just removed from a refrigerator and
despite the fact that it had been watered down from several refills, the booze would still be stronger than the average aged scotch without that common choking aftertaste. The flavor would be rich and sweet with a hint of a smokey aftertaste similar to coffee. Its flavor so smooth it would encourage one to take a long gulp of it. Heaven forbid that person was a light drinker, they would feel the effect almost instantly perhaps even black out entirely just from one long gulp of it!

Dimitri could hardly contain himself as he waited, all other questions ignored for the moment. If Charles could handle the drink without passing out, he would be more than happy to answer some more questions. If not, well the jovial monk would certainly have a good laugh and perhaps draw a crooked mustache and goatee on Charles’ face while he was down for the count.

_{collab Arty Fox & Fetzen}



Vaughtar was busy roaming around the sub's floor, pretty much exclusively minding his own business while his feet were continuing to damage the floor beneath him. It was at this time that his ears picked up an unexpected sound which was approaching him rapidly. He looked around and before he was able to identify its cause, he found himself... hugged. To say that this had come unexpected would have been a massive understatement. Noone had hugged him ever before for rather obvious reasons, but Shannon did with vigor.

"Hey! I... erm..." the huge gargoyle found himself relatively speechless much faster than he wanted. "Shannon!" His huge palms half-unconsciously patted her onto her shoulders, and at least this time he actively tried not to cause trouble with his claws. "What are you doing here ?"

"Seeing fishies." Shannon chirpped, her attention drawn away from the Horse monster for a moment. "Zesiro Friend show Fishies."

Shannon sensed some discomfort from Vaughter in the way he awkwardly tried to pat her shoulder. Had she done something wrong? Her tail twisted nervoulsy as she thought hard as to whaat she might have done to upset her friend. A lightbulb finally went off in her skull.

"Vaughtar Friend not like hug?" Shannon released the Gargoyule from her grip and quickly withdrew herself. "Sorry Vaughtar Friend. I ask times after. Bon-Bon no like hug too."

"No... you made no error. It's just..." Vaughtar paused for a brief, but noticeable moment. "Noone has ever done that before. Where I come from there's a massive -- though not unjustified -- bias against anything that doesn't look entirely human." he said, having in mind the supernatural horros of Munimis. "And I have difficulties with my claws... sometimes..." he added, looking at the tools of devastation his own body was creating and maintaining so happily without him actively having to do anything. "And probably I'm too big..."

If Vaughtar's skin had not been so dark and gray-ish, he'd probably have blushed right now. However the list of things he wasn't entirely capable of was quite long -- not always a disadvantageous thing.

Her brow furrowed with a mix of pity and anger.

"No. Vaughter Friend is right size." Three paws were slammed down whilst the remaining one was pointed at the Gargoyles chest. "Vaughter Friend learn how use Claws. I not know how claws work after first make, I learn. Vaughter Friend can too!"

"C.E.M at Home too. Agents wrong and bad. Vaughter Friend get all hugs." She pointed down the adjacent Hallway towards the Horse Monster and continued. "TRIDENT have lots Monsters. Zesiro Friend say TRIDENT is run by Monster too!"

Shannon flashed him a grin that curled several times at each end. To think that a Monster was running something with Humans made her feel a strange cocktail of emotions that she couldn't quite understand, or even describe.

Vaughtar looked at Shannon for moments again, not sure how to respond properly. "I know how to use my claws for ripping things out of people. The problem I have is how to use my hands without them damaging anything."

The gargoyle turned his head, looking down the same direction Shannon had pointed at. "TRIDENT run by a monster ? I have to admit that I'm not very well informed about things. How about paying him a visit at some time ? Right now I'm feeling rather hungry..."

Vaughtar perfectly knew that this was only half the truth. The real problem was that he felt horribly CRAMPED. This sub was a marvel of craftmanship he had no hope of understanding anytime soon, but he constantly felt way too big for those tiny corridors and rooms. And then this constant feeling of moisture all around here. "We could try to go back to the gym. Maybe Rozalind has already left it so we can relax... Or do you want do so something else ?" he asked politely.

Feeling puzzled for a number of reasons Shannon cocked her head to the side. How could one know how to use claws one way but not another? To Shannon using something one way was the same as using it another way.

As for Vaughters questions though Shannon knew exactly what to do.

"I not know where eat. I not eat. " She shrugged simply. "I and Zesiro Friend leave sscary white room small time before here. Not Agents were making tests" She looked as if she had eaten a lemon.

"But Zesiro Friend know place to eat. Follow, we see Fishies. Ask see TRIDENT Monster."

Turning, Shannon motioned for Vaughter to follow her back the way she had come.

"Horse Monster come too!" She shouted down the other corridor.

"Why are you calling me 'horse monster' ? What do I have to do with a horse ?" Vaughtar asked, confused about what he considered to be an unusual choice of words. The giant creature followed her down the hallway, each of his steps thudding very loudly.

"Horse Monster is not you." Shannon explained. "Horse Monster is behin-"

Then the inevitable happened: Shannon would hear the screeching of metal behind her, then a sudden snapping noise followed by a big splash of water originating from below. A certain gargoyle had broken through the floor grating and landed in the ship's bilge. Needless to say that he was releasing a volley of curses about YET another mishap... What would TRIDENT's bosses say to this ?

"Shannon... don't tell this anyone, please..." He started to climb his way back up.

The stench from the hole Vaughtar had opened hit her like a brick wall and she recoled with her claws clamped firmly around her snout. The smell of mixing chemicals and...liquids burned away at her heightned sense of smell making her eyes water.

"I no tell." She muffled a reply from a safe distance.

@RokkuHoshi