God, how he loved perusing the ruins of this bygone era. To witness firsthand the myriad ghosts of a former age never ceased to arouse a childlike curiosity in him that very rarely extended itself to such an aged soul as he. What the hell was this thing for? How do you work this colorful contraption? Oh, what a fun little bauble...would that I knew what it was!

Vyvyxx delighted to allow himself this small vacation from the unforgiving wastes every so often. His former tribe would have been bursting at the seams with derision should they have seen him here, giggling like a child at this and that, old as he was, thoroughly amused by the sheer whimsy of it all. By and large, he limited his existence to the "in-between", those wide stretches of voided earth that held little to no trace of their former inhabitants, or in some rare cases had never been inhabited at all. But his search for water had led him here, and he was content to revel in this brief recess from the wilderness for a while.

Certainly no water was to be found here, one would be remiss not to mention. Or at least none clean. And a significant portion of his better judgement had told him as such from the very outset of his impromptu exploration. But he was never one to shy away from a diversion from his less-than-desirable lifestyle, and he found himself bound by the spectacle of it all; certainly he had done so before, and without doubt would do so again.

Content that he had unraveled all the mysteries of one particular household (if household it may have been), he placed the shiny, spinning, colorful whatever-the-fuck back on the shelf where he had found it, and ventured once more out into the empty street. Whistling a jaunty tune he had forged and perfected though his decades in the ash, he continued down the avenue, tapping his staff in time, as he often did. His intent had been to continue his journey through the city and plunge himself headlong into the wastes once more; he had his fill of revelry, and it was time to live again. Just before the outskirts of the town, however, a large, brightly painted sign caught his eye. It was a sign he had become very acquainted with in his wanderings, and a sign he had learned he couldn't resist:

HALF PRICE BOOKS.

"Well," he chuckled aloud to himself. "A sight for sore eyes indeed. What fresh knowledge have you in store for me today, old friend?"

He ambled casually over to the door way, and was overtaken by a deep sigh. Perhaps he could find water soon, but for now, he had lessons to learn, worlds in which to live that were not his own, and places to see that even had he been alive 200 years earlier would not have held on to their beauty such as those rare, untouched by plague volumes portrayed.

He smiled to himself, opening the door. In a jest he intended purely for his own satisfaction, he called into the dark space:

"Anybody home?"

The confines of the truck acted in a way which offered some measure of protection. Out of the rain, and within a vehicle, Miles felt like he could finally take a breath. In the midst of combat, it was difficult to see the path ahead, clearly. Of course, such held true both within the physical and spiritual realm but for Miles, it was difficult on a level where he didn’t know what had prompted his continued struggle. Was he fighting for Liberty due to the endless promises they had flaunted, or was he fighting for them simply because he wanted to stand against Erubesco? Clenching his teeth somewhat, the thought of being lost within his own mind tensed the young man’s frame but another deep breath send enough pain down his lungs to bring him back from the endless cycle of thoughts. Within the car, he had managed to grab hold of a gun and felt somewhat less defenceless in the face of danger. Speaking of danger, this blonde boy had suddenly willed them away from that building. His gift was astonishing, and would Miles have another inkling of energy left in his body, he would have undoubtedly commented on it. “Thanks..." Miles spoke quietly. “You sure to want to do this..? Erubesco will shoot on sight, if they see you with a soldier from Liberty..."

“Oh, that’s fine," Lucas replied, struggling to get the seatbelt across his chest. He kept tugging on it but it seemed to get stuck at each pull. He finally gave up and let go of it, sighing. He looked down at the pedals and the gear. “Let’s see," he mumbled to himself as he pressed on the brakes and turned the engine on. “There we go!" He turned over to Miles with a grin. “If we get found, we could always just get them. Of course, we should do our best to not be found out. We should go find a neutral town. If we get somewhere like that, we can get you properly looked at and get a less conspicuous ride.”

“That’s a reasonable course of action..." The young soldier nodded, offering Lucas a soft though barely visible smile. It would be a lie, to claim that Lucas’ carefree nature was an unwelcome addition to an otherwise tremendously miserable day. “I’m Miles, by the way..." The soldier continued, sliding the full clip out of his new pistol. “Just a soldier..." He finished, placing the clip in his pocket before using his Gift on the ammunition and loaded a replicated copy into the handgun.

“Nice to meet ya, Miles. My name’s Lucas," the young man responded. “Just a soldier, hm? I suppose that would make me your everyday wasteland lowlife!" His smile widened as he saw the clip replicate. “Woah! That’s pretty cool! Can you do that with anything? Like food and stuff? Oh, I should..." He turned back around to face the wheel. “Here we go!" The car went forward in an uncontrollable burst before the speed stabilized.

With a soft shake of his head, the soldier gently rested the gun upon his lap and made sure to toggle the safety. Once the car sped up, he nearly fell out of his seat but managed to keep his balance, and grabbed hold of the pistol before it slid down to his legs. “Shit..." He muttered, flinching from the pain echoing throughout his body at the sudden burst. “N-no..." Miles gulped. “Nothing organic...”

“Oh, sorry! I haven’t properly driven a car like this in… ten years? Give or take," he said, his eyes moving up off the road for a few seconds. He looked back on the road, his right hand flicking a few switches behind the wheel, activating the windshield wipers. “Oh? I didn’t mean to do that, but that’s good," he said before turning on the short headlights. “We should be out of this town soon. I think I can find the settlement nearby. It won’t be too quick a ride, but we should get there before anyone can find us.”

“Ten years..?" Miles blinked. “Just how old are you..?" THis boy couldn’t be much older than Miles himself. Ten years ago Miles was seven. “Ugh, damn..." The boy clenched his teeth while leaning back in the seat. His wound was starting to hurt more, now. Adrenaline was leaving his system and pain proceeded to echo throughout his frame. “This...really hurts..." Miles chuckled softly, the otherwise serious soldier managing a level of irony in the midst of war. Perhaps Lucas was rubbing off on him. “The thought of getting cleaned up is a godsend..."[/color]

“Hm… Between 18 and 19. I’m not sure which," Lucas responded. “My family from back then taught me for a job we were doing. I had to tie wooden blocks on the pedals just to reach them and see the road." His tone seemed to get a bit sombre but his demeanor returned to normal in no time. “So, uh," he said as they passed the last block in the outskirts of the town. “Why’d you become a soldier? It looks like a pretty thankless and demanding job, fighting things like that out here.”

“The alternative was to starve on the streets of Erubesco." Miles sighed, shaking his head. “I honestly don’t know what I’m expecting, anymore." The soldier continued, moving his eyes towards the armored window to see the vast road of destruction stretching out as far as vision allowed. “They say that everyone in Liberty is equal. No poverty, no suffering." Miles spoke, a sense of disappointment washing over him. “Don’t know, honestly." Erubesco had their own version of perfection, just like Liberty. What if it all was the different sides of the same coin?

“I don’t really know much about politics," Lucas said. “It’s probably easy to live in a place like that if you’re more powerful. Look at the wastelands. Any rules that govern any region of this place is more like a suggestion. There isn’t really anyone to tip the scale in your favours." He paused for a moment and glanced at Miles. “I try to stay out of stuff like that. Out here, it’s best to just look forward to making ends meet, and that’s exactly what I do! I don’t have too much to complain about, really.”

“Hey, Lucas..." Miles spoke silently, a lingering mist of silence engulfing them before he did so. Another moment of thought passed before he’d talk once more, the boy’s eyes lowering themselves to the bloodied cargo pants donning his tired legs. Just what would come of this war? Erubesco contained rumors of inhumane experiments that had been displayed in a very rough manner, and it was well known at this point that whatever whispers crept from ear to ear about the cruelty of the commanders was a common truth. Could Liberty truly be that much better? Was it this black and white? A defeated sigh escaped Miles lips before he looked up once more. “Don’t think I’m in a hurry to get back to the army, to be honest." He had already deserted the Erubescan army. Was he going to do the same once more, based on uncertainty? “Tell me, do you think that Liberty is the better alternative...?"

Lucas looked at Miles in a bit of a surprise. With a smile he turned ahead and spoke up. “I don’t really like the ‘lesser of two evils’ thing," he said. “If they’re both screwed up, they’re both screwed up. If you wanna change something, you could try to fix ‘em up, but otherwise, taking sides might prove pretty counterproductive." He paused for a moment before continuing. “The war probably won’t last forever, but I doubt the winning side will be very graceful in victory to their long time enemies. This kind of stuff is why I remained in the ash. No point in joining something you can’t fully get behind. Well, no matter what happens, there’s always a spot in the wastelands for deserters and scoundrels!”

Miles paused for a moment, calculating Lucas’ words. He had been living in the wastes for a while, no doubt. What he said did however hold merit. Miles had gone from one army to the other, all the while risking his life on a daily basis for something he was uncertain of. Why didn’t he have the luxury to fight for what he believed in? Or, did he? It was after all his choice to abandon one army for another, and in the end, he had found himself at the brink of death, unsure if he even felt it worth the struggle. “I wanted to get a better life." Miles explained. “The army was the only option, for that." There truly was no other option. “When I realized how messed up Erubesco really was, I turned to Liberty and what they offered." He paused, thinking it over. “It seemed so genuine, and so pure. Equality for everyone? If that was the case, why..." Miles sighed, shaking his head. “Why are there always so many secrets buried?" Of course, Lucas didn’t have the answer to these questions. Miles knew that, but he felt the need to ask them aloud, as if asking himself. “I guess...I can think more on this, after I get patched up..." The soldier finished.

“I wouldn’t know, really,” Lucas said after a moment’s thought. “That’d probably be best. Think with a clear head and veins full of blood, that’s what I say,” he said jokingly. “Try and get some rest. You oughta be feeling better once we get you to the doc."

Dawn had to bite back a surprised chuckle at Eira’s response. It was a threat through and through- there was no denying it- but the phrasing was...unconventional, at best. She managed not to show too much of a reaction, however, instead nodding gravely and wringing her hands together. “I’ll try to, ah, keep out, then.”

If there were any further questions on the extent of Eira’s second Gift, they were quickly answered as the woman placed her hand on Overreach’s chair and quickly rattled off its- and, by extension, the owner’s- history. It was a bit...unnerving in a sense. Most who roamed the ash kept their past close to their chest, and it seemed that Overreach was hardly an exception. Making note to keep some of her older belongings securely in her bag, Dawn adjusted her hat, shielding her face from the worst of the sun.

“It’s no trouble, really. I mean, I’ve been in the same situation before, so just...pay it forward, I guess.” She shifted, crossing her arms over her chest. It seemed as if they were all heading east. It was hardly surprising, as it was the nearest settlement in a good while, but it made her hesitate a moment. While it wasn’t uncommon for her to travel with others, this group was a bit larger than she was used to, and it seemed that at least two of them were allied. If they decided to attack, the situation could quite easily get out of hand.

However...Overreach hardly seemed like the type of person to favor a fight. There was the wheelchair, sure, but he had been trying to keep the situation to friendly conversation almost the entire time Dawn had seen him. Even if his Gift was powerful enough to make up for the lack of a weapon, he didn’t seem like he would be a threat. The Good Doctor’s mind held a sort of...strange, muted quality about it, as if some of the color had been sapped away, but he seemed reasonable enough. And his reason behind the travel, along with the flicker of memory Dawn had picked up- of a woman, his sister- had sympathized him.

Eira, however, seemed unstable. Short tempered. Coupled with the fire that she had displayed earlier, the woman was difficult to trust.

Regardless, the town wasn’t too far now. As long as they made it before nightfall, it didn’t seem too heavy of a risk.

“I’m heading that way, too.” Dawn said, shifting the strap of her bag a bit on her shoulder. “If we’re all going the same way, I’m happy to talk until we get there. I mean, as long as you don’t mind me tagging along for awhile, of course.”

Only a few moments after speaking, she paused, head tilted slightly- as if picking up on a song some distance away. "We're not alone." Her expression didn't change from the soft, welcoming look she had adopted earlier, although her eyes had become glazed, voice dropping to a near murmur Given that they would be travelling together for a time if all went well, it was only polite to warn them of their new company.

@bmxbrat484@Claw2k11@Conch Shell VII

Overreach squinted up at the sky for a moment, considering this. Obviously, having a Pyromancer on your side was handy if there was trouble afoot. If he was going to go with these people, he could gain some valuable protection. And that was always welcome. "Especially since I lost my gun," he thought to himself. "Wait, no, Dawn just said she can read minds. And Eira just did that thing with the wheelchair, so she might be able to as well. Uh... shit. Hey, uh, could you two pretend you didn't hear that? Thank you."

Anyway, now that he was thinking about it, there didn't really seem to be a downside to this situation. If they were gonna knock him out and steal his stuff, they would've done it by now. So yeah, he could probably get to the next town safe with these folks' help. It was a risk, but he felt like he could handle it.

Overreach grinned and leaned back, draping one arm casually over the back of his chair and smiling at the assembling group. "Yeah, why not?" he said casually. "I could use the company." "And the protection. Aw, dammit!" "Plus, if there's more of us, we can keep to the streets, save a little time. Strength in numbers, and all that. Blasting one person and taking their stuff's fairly simple, I've heard, but four at once is a little tougher. I mean--"

Overreach stopped in the middle of his sentence, suddenly glancing around looking for the newcomer Dawn had mentioned. "...huh," he muttered to himself, sincerely hoping he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth.

@bmxbrat484 @Claw2k11 @EchoicChamber

It had only taken half an hour to emerge from the treeline and into the merciless brightness of open Ashland. Orion raised a hand to block the light from his eyes and squinted at the sprawling vastness before him. On the horizon to the far left, he could make out the general direction of Erubescan settled territory, marked by a halo of blueness where the air above had been purified. It must have been at least thirty miles away, but he could still imagine the rough outline of Citadel towers and spires scratching against the sky.

Directly to the West, and far closer, the ruins of a town reared up to break the monotonous grey-green flatland. From what Mitch had told him of drone feeds and security practices, outcroppings like this were the sorts of places Ashrats like to congregate. Some lived there, if they were brave, but most nomads just passed through to trade or fuck. Perhaps sometimes both.

The thought of bounty hunters crossed his mind as well, but he shook it off. Whether or not his name and face were already plastered in the notices did not matter. Options were limited.

He took off at a quick pace, shoulder slumped and eyes scanning like a prey animal caught in the open.

Which he may as well have been.

A mile out from the town, scattered, short buildings loomed up alongside him, and Orion began moving by sticking to their shadows and pressing his body against their dusty walls.

He froze at the sound of commotion nearby: The whinny-shriek of a horse, then a crash, and the screams of a man. Orion’s thumb grazed over the surface of a polished tungsten carbide ring on his left hand, and the dark metallic finish spread over his skin like fire spreading over an oil spill.

The sound of hoofsteps clipped nearer, and Orion braced as he anticipated the rider. Would it be a large man? Or woman? Or someone with a gift that could melt flesh?

Orion had never killed anyone, and the thought of a fight to the death turned his stomach. Perhaps they would have no gift that could pierce him, and he could walk along unharmed, or...

The thing rounded the corner Orion was sheltering behind, massive and winged and colored like an Erubescan showbeast. It reminded him a bit of the winged horses that smaller, lighter prize fighters sometimes specialized in riding.

He kept his voice low, and clicked his tongue. ”Hey, hey,” he said softly, glancing about half to avoid eye contact and half to check for signs of a rider. Perhaps he had been the unlucky fellow who screamed but moments before. Orion held out one hand, palm flat, for the creature to sniff. His eyes trailed over the animal’s body, stopping to linger at the injured wing. ”Woah, boy. Woah. Where’s your person, boy?” he asked, though he did not expect any response to come.

A horse could be useful, if not another mouth to feed. Whoever had shot him was close, but Orion had little fear of anyone using arrows.

At the very least, he could potentially trade the animal for provisions.

Distant Town, Medical Bay

Character Sheet Updated

The scent of sterile walls and the ever moving hand of a clock blanketed Miles' senses like the droplets of rain had, before. Comfort, it was a celestial embrace wrapping itself around Miles' tired frame, a savior warming his cold and fatigued body. It was hard to tell, if exhaustion or blood loss had been the reason behind his journey to the land of dreams. Lucas had been driving, and Miles spent the moments leaning against the window in a tired attempt to fade away. Inevitably, he did. Once the boy came to, he found himself within the sterile confinements of a medical room. The soft beeping sound of various equipment reached his ears and drew a picture before his eyes ever gazed upon his surroundings. With his chest slowly rising, and lowering itself in tune with his calm breathing, Miles eventually allowed his eyes to adjust to the ever shifting world around him.

It was rather dark, the lights dimmed for Miles' own comfort. Slowly ascending to a sitting position, he felt an all too familiar sting of pain echoing throughout his frame, though managed to hoist himself against the soft pillows behind him. Having adjusted to the setting, and the dim atmosphere blanketing the interior, Miles came to witness his exposed and bruised body. Dressed in a pair of boxers, a new pair would be fair to note, he had been cleaned and bandaged from the ordeals the young soldier had gone through. The otherwise bleeding wounds on his forehead had been covered in wrapping, much like his stomach, arm and forearm. Several areas across his wounded frame were scraped, but there was little one could do in covering them.

Taking a deep breath, Miles felt the exhilarating blessing of air traveling down his lungs without pain stabbing at every inch of his insides. On the small bedside table right besides him, there was a glass of water waiting for his thin and bandaged fingers to wrap around the cold surface and downed the liquid in a matter of seconds.

They had really done it. They had managed to get away from that hellhole and reached heaven. Well, the pearly gates didn't get much better than this. Not in this world. The passing of thirty full minutes eventually allowed for movement, and Miles slowly made enough progress to place his bare feet against the cold floor. Clenching his teeth through the pain, Miles pulled his scrawny body up to a standing position before seeing the wardrobe at the other end of the room. One wobbly step lead to another, which in turn linked to a third, and a fourth. This was going well, enough. Once he reached the wardrobe, Miles saw how more inconspicuous clothing awaited him beyond the door. A black pair of cargo pants, along with canvas shoes and a black sweater somewhat big for his lithe torso. This would do, and no one would be able to point at him and yell soldier.

Soldier. Is that what he was? The conversation he had shared with Lucas in the car came back like a crashing wave. What would he do, from here? On the battlefield, he had heard more than a few words of uncertainty from his fellow soldiers and those who thought otherwise were dead set on Liberty's compassion.

In the end, Miles didn't join the army to protect others. He didn't do this to save the world, did he? He did it for himself. He did it, to get a better life, in the end. He was hardly a saint, and he sought survival above all else. Perhaps Lucas had made the right choice. Perhaps, just maybe, the Wastes held what he was looking for. How ironic. He had been told that Wastelanders were all savages, but Lucas had proved those rumors wrong. "Maybe...I've been wrong since the very start..."

Eira made a slight noise of discontent when her mentor tapped his leg and declared it's weakness. Why he would admit such a thing was beyond her.. Yes, he was quite capable of taking care of himself, but why entice others to take advantage of any preexisting injury? Unless, that was the point? Was he just trying to point out a weakness and cause the others to underestimate his capabilities? Knowing her mentor, but also knowing of his condition, it could easily be either option.

"Well I can't quite call you Father, although Eira might wish to if she had a voice." Eiras eyes crinkled in amusement, offering one of her rare shows of emotion. She had never called anyone by anything other than Sir, Ma'am, or their names, as doing so would admit some sort of attachment to them. If she were to feel an attachment to anyone it would clearly be the giant beside her, but mostly what she felt was deep respect and a sense of duty to repay him for all the years he'd raised and trained her. Not to say that she couldn't feel such things for others, she just didn't, plain and simple.

Eira didn't react to the fact that they now had two companions tagging along, although she had to admit to herself that it bothered her slightly. If they didn't make it to the village by nightfall, they would have to hole up in another shit-hole, and the pyromancer would have to stay up all night keeping watch. When it was just her and Aran, they would take shifts of course, but with the additions, Eira would feel much more at ease if she could keep her own eye on both strangers the whole night. She felt the man would probably sleep sound, as he was far more trusting than the three combined, but the girl.. She would most likely be in the same mindset as Eira, and they would just focus on each other the entire time rather than their surroundings. Oh yeah, this was going to be so fun.

She focused her attention back to the girl, as she was the only one the psychometric couldn't get a reading on. She had a sneaking suspicion that the telepath wouldn't allow her the opportunity to, either. She was about to comment on this when the other girl spoke up first, and Eira kept her face as its usual blank slate. She felt each of them could adequately handle one person on their own; so as long as they didn't get in each others way they would be completely fine. However, due to his reaction, Eira was tempted to hit the man in the wheelchair. Her own voice lowering to more of a growl than a murmur, she kept her gaze steadied just past Dawns shoulder, waiting for any sign of movement. "You know, Overreach, it would be nice if you didn't just didn't just tip this new stranger off to the fact that we know he's near. Dawn, do you believe he could be hostile? There.. is only one, right?" Not only did Eira not know the extent to the girls powers, but she knew that if he, or they, were too far away, there wouldn't be much the telepath could sense. Hopefully she could at least give them a number.

@Conch Shell VII@EchoicChamber@Claw2k11

The journey was characteristically rocky. Teleportation always made Kora feel sick and was never something she was totally happy about...she'd seen it go wrong just enough times to have gained a degree of wariness about it... but soon the Erubescan found her boots on the dry ground of an ashland basin, the dusty breeze whipping her hair around her head.

Relutantly, the Knight snapped a switch on the underside of her bracer, activating the live feed and the uniform's bodycam. Reluctant because it would mean being subjected to more of ORIN's robotic bitching.

"I'm in the drop zone ORIN. How do I proceed?" she asked.

"Fugitives were spotted behind the ridge there heading due west 72 hours ago."
"Oh well that narrows it down to a fifty mile stretch of ash. Real brilliant detective work there ORIN."

"They've not been sighted in any subsequent sweeps, which would indicate they'd not passed far away from here. It could also be reasoned that they will, at some point, need provisions and are likely to approach a trading spot. Proceed toward the ruins and be on alert for signs of trade activity."

"What happens if I run into some local colour?"
"Do what you need to do, Knight. No-one gotten court martialled for terminating factionless individuals yet and I don't expect you to be the first."

"Kill them, got it."
Kora strode along the rocky ground in the direction of the town. Pre-war. It was rather hard to really wrap your head around what that meant. Indeed it was hard to ever imagine the town as anything but a decaying husk. The age of man was not that long passed, but as far as Kora was concerned they might as well have been gone a thousand years.

As she reached the edge, the Erubescan became a little more cautious. There were plenty of places for someone to sneak up on her. In the same sense, it was going to be extremely difficult to search all of the mouldering buildings...and even then no guarnatee of finding what she was looking for.

The best she could hope for was some clue as their whereabouts.
Which came right around the time Kora heard the scream.

By the time the Knight had jogged over the rise over which she'd heard it, her eyes had already set on the large animal stood beside the cracked asphalt of an old street.

ORIN, watching everything through the broadcast had utterly no interest in the horse however. She was far more focused on the man approaching it.
"Target sighted. Lazos. Move to engage."
"Right."

The woman stepped forward and snapped the voice amplifier on, broadcasting her voice down to the man so there could be absolutely no mstaking her intentions.

"Orion Lazos! You are wanted by the Kingdom of Erubesco for the crime of treason! Surrender yourself to arrest now and will remain unharmed! If you proceed to resist arrest, I, a Knight of Erubesco, am fully authorised to use any degree of force necessary to ensure that you face justice! You have five seconds to get down on the ground and put your hands behind you head!"

Distant Town, Medical Bay

Leaving the room, Miles passed his foot across the threshold and came to witness the small, and unnaturally tidy office. To his right, he saw a door leading outside, and to his left, there was a desk. A woman sat with several documents in front of her, a pair of glasses gently resting against her nose as she looked up at the boy. In a way considered little more than nonchalant, she lowered her attention to the files and simply motioned for Miles sit down opposite herself. Behind her, one could see a row of shelves containing books mostly matted and torn by the ravages of time, and the overall emptiness of the room leaned not against poverty, but rather perfectionism.

Silence lingered, and Miles found himself unable to do more than follow this woman's instructions. As she had demanded, though silently, Miles slowly lowered himself to the chair and waited for the woman to speak. The anticipation was somewhat dowsed by Miles' curiosity, his eyes finding home upon the files she was going through. "Name?" She finally spoke up, her attire proving her occupation of doctor.

"M-Miles..." The boy responded, taken aback by her sudden approach.

"This is your mission." She slid a gathering of files across the desk, seeing Miles' confused expression which in turn prompted her to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Mission..?" The young soldier asked, tilting his head slightly as he lowered his eyes to the files in front of him.

"You are a soldier, no?" She continued, her voice demanding authority. "I take it you know little of how things work here, then."

"I...I guess." Miles returned, earning a scowl.

"Yes m'am." She corrected.

"Y-yes m'am..." The boy repeated, seeing how the woman's frown eased out.

"Tell me, Miles. In a world as ravaged as this, how do you think that I can run a clinic?" The question pierced through the soldier, like a lance. She did seem to have access to things others could only dream of. "Because..." She continued, seeing the clueless expression on Miles' face. "...people value their lives, more than they value riches. Getting patched up here, earns you a debt. If you do not pay off that dept, those loyal to the well being of this clinic will make sure to take back, what I gave you." Right to the point. "And you required quite a lot of resources. I expect to be paid back, in full."

"B-but, I have no money..." Miles tried.

"Oh, come now. I do not desire your money. I desire action. Bring me what I want, and our business is concluded. Fail, and you will repay me in...other ways."

"Other ways...?" Curiosity got the better of him.

With a sigh, the woman leaned back against her chair, a less than amused expression making its way to her visage. "Your organs, Miles. Do you know what people would do for you, in a place like this, if you know how to properly store and implant organs? A lot. You will come to learn that favors are worth more than gold." She was right, of course. One could buy trinkets, and services, for money. However, this woman had figured out a system which seemed to work, for her. As long as she was around, she could cure people. She didn't demand payment in the form of money, and people were in constant need of medical aid out in the Ash. The Ash needed her, she knew it, and anyone could afford her prices. The question was simply, if one was willing to pay them.

"You've got people caged..." Miles finally broke out, expecting an angry response. However, all he earned was a delighted laugh.

"Oh, dear." The woman chuckled. "It's just business. Money fades, trinkets are useless. Action on the other hand, is priceless. If you control someone's actions, you own them. As a soldier, I expected you to understand at least that much." It was safe to say, that at the very least, Miles was learning what it meant to truly be a...soldier.

@Conch Shell VII@EchoicChamber@bmxbrat484

Aran could only smile at Dawn's response, though she seemed a bit wary about Eira, she seemed to have grown to trust the rest a fair amount, at least to allow the rest to travel with her, he could only guess that she had seen the flash of memory about his sister's rather gruesome end, his smile turned slightly more bitter as the image of his older sister appeared again in his mind, shortly after, however, the image of his younger sister appeared, smiling, this calmed him down a bit.

"Miss Dawn, I'm not sure if you can choose to read to someone's past, but would you please stay out of mind?" he thought, fully knowing Dawn was in his mind. "It's more of a warning for you than for me, my life is quite dotted with tragedies like these and they are things I would rather keep secret if it is ok with you."

"Then no worries, even if someone is stupid enough to attack us, I'm fairly sure we'd be able to handle them, I mean, my gift is quite powerful and even so, my size alone would be a good enough deterrent to a fair amount of people, I mean, more than half my patients were scared of me when they first looked at my mug, but once my job was done, they'd be so happy and thankful... it's a hard job, this job of mine, but it's a rewarding one!" he said, as images of various patients of his after their surgeries, most thanking him that they were able to save them, or a person thanking them on their behalf, this made him feel at least a bit better.

"And I imagine we'd serve as quite good protection as well!" Aran chuckled, continuing Overreach's thoughts. "I mean, a pyromancer and a seven foot tall, muscled guy would serve as quite good protection and as I've already said, a fairly good deterrent against any misguided or desperate raider." he said smiling at the wheelchair bound man. "It's ok, I know what I am and I know what my student/daughter here is and what both of us are capable of!"

"Oooh, I do not mind being called father!" he said to Eira smiling a tad too proudly. "I mean, I think it'd be a bit late for me to have kids, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to leave my legacy to this world here, one way or another." he said. "And if not through Eira here, then at least through my future nephews or nieces!" he said, his smile starting to broaden as he thought of the concept of a future nephew or niece.

However, his smile died down as Dawn mentioned the individual approaching them. Out of instinct, he activated his gift and briefly allowed a large amount of electricity to surge through his hands before he calmed down. "Be ready, you three, it could be someone friendly, but to be honest I don't think that any of us are lucky enough to meet another person who will not shoot us on sight." Aran spoke, wary of whoever might be approaching, random killers were common through the wastes, but his senses told him that the person approaching them was not just a random killer, but a more... dangerous individual.

Subject - Extraction

Target - A lockbox, embroidered with a seal of unknown origin stamped onto the surface.

Location - See provided map for further information.

Measure - Retain the lockbox, by any means necessary. Lethal force will be expected.

Mission Summery - You are tasked with locating and extracting the previously mentioned lockbox. The contents of said lockbox are not to be delved through, under any circumstances. Failure to locate, extract and deliver the lockbox unopened will result in immediate termination of the mission, and the agent assigned to it. The agent is not to, under any circumstances, make stops anywhere upon retrieving the lockbox. Failure to follow these instructions will lead to immediate..-

"...termination." Miles rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. "What the fuck have I gotten myself into...?" The boy spoke, dropping back against the seat of a rundown motel room paid for by the good doctor, which in turn lead to yet another assignment which needed to be undertaken.

Subject - Assassination

Target - Miranda Andersson.

Location - See provided map for further information.

Measure - Terminate Miranda. No other means of neutralization will be accepted.

Mission Summery - You are tasked with locating and eliminating Miranda Andersson. She is the holder of the lockbox, and should be located before the lockbox is extracted.

"So now, I need to murder a bitch, too. If lethal force was expected in getting the fucking lockbox, why give me a mission to off this chick, anyways..?" Miles groaned, shaking his head. This was probably only to prove that the Doctor owned Miles until he had paid off his debts. Whatever that lockbox contained was probably worth more than a single life, if Miles had to go through this insane amount of trouble, to get it. Clenching his teeth, the young soldier, or rather, the deserter wrapped his fingers around the pistol he had procured from the car and made his way out of the motel room. The sooner he got this settled, the better. If he was injured during this mission, he would have to medicate himself. Owing this insane woman something else wasn't going to do wonders for his health, in either event.

"Where the hell is Lucas..?" Miles squinted somewhat as he stepped out, seeing the now rising sun shedding its rays upon his tired eyes. Miles had woken up in the clinic, that morning. He had no clue where Lucas had gone, and if he was even close by, anymore. At this point, he could have taken the car and been off. Miles knew enough to measure his luck. Bringing the ex-soldier wounded, and dying, to a clinic which now had a string to pull, attached to Miles' throat, probably cost him the vehicle. If Lucas hadn't left, he was probably getting shit faced at the local tavern, something Miles wasn't too eager to participate in, given his current predicament. "Never been drunk, before..." The boy mumbled, stepping across the street as his eyes traced the files in his hands. "Might solve all of my problems. People get shit faced for a reason, right..?" He continued, stopping dead in his tracks with a soft frown making its way to his face. "Now I'm talking to myself. Wonderful. Fucking dandy..."

Folding the files, Miles slipped them into a shoulder bag he had been given. Extracting that lockbox did require a place to keep it, after all. Retaining the map however, the boy made sure to study it from one corner to the other in an attempt to pinpoint the best possible route to his designated location. One thing was certain. He'd need that car.

He cut a brazen figure beneath the stifled Ashland sun. Lazarus knew that too, and he felt a perverse sense of hilarity because of it. Though he was far removed from the repressive structure of his former society, there would always be social taboos wherever one went. Firstly, he was the picture of perfect health; the dark circled, gaunt, dogged look of Ashland survival was missing from his even toned face. Secondly, his military coat, sleeves rolled above his elbows, was open, exposing his well muscled midriff, solar plexus, and chest, to attack.

It was a taboo to look so healthy, and simultaneously expose oneself to assault at once. It bespoke an unfortunate ignorance and pampered life to some, and a dangerous confidence to others. Why any of this mattered to anyone passing is the question of course. The answer to this question sat on either side of his reclining person. Both of them were signs, painted black against a makeshift wood background.

One read "LOOKING FOR WORK." With minute pictures of combat and a smattering of various weapons. The message was obvious, he felt. Mercenary work was in abundance from what he had seen during his time wandering amongst the Old World monoliths and the denizens who were content with scraping by.

The other said "NOW HIRING." With another smattering of symbols and pictures. Unlike the one which advertised his skill-set, this one sported a myriad of different indicators. Some depicted a need for mchanicao expertise, while others pointed to a need for skilled mechanics and technical experts.

Fights as well, of course. The meat and bones of any mercnacy operation required those with disposition geared towards combat. Or at the very least, the ability to fake it.

As an added piece to the man's marketing strategy, a box sat directly in front of him, inside lay a small pile of medical supplies, anti inflammatory pills, bandages, and a bottle or two of peroxide. Beside it, an open bowl of gel packets containing life affirming water.

The only catch was you had to bend down and be momentaliry exposed to attack. This was intentional. He had no intention to attack anyone who stopped for succor, it was just an exercise for her own reasons and purpose.

Perhaps the most interesting piece to his workshop of sorts, was an old gramophone, currently playing barely legible music, save for the sigh of a wind instrument.

Lazarus whistled along with it, dashing the background noise with occasional pieces sung in a casual baritone.

"Let us leave the confusion and all disillusion behind; like birds of a feather, a rainbow together we'll find.

It didn’t strike Dawn as odd that neither Aran nor his assistant seemed particularly keen about her listening in- thoughts were the most private thing that anyone could have, and tearing away that sense of security tended to leave people feeling...exposed, to say the least. Unfortunately for all parties involved, however, she had never been able to fully turn off that aspect of herself. Tune it out some, yes, but the buzz would always be there.

Needless to say, it made making allies a tad more difficult than it needed to be.

She gave an absent nod in Aran’s direction regardless, not planning on prying any more than she already had. Her reply to Overreach was a bit less subtle, as the man would feel a sort of...gentle fluttering just behind the ridge of his skull, followed by a thought that was not his own.

”Your secret’s safe with me.”

It would probably feel a bit unpleasant for the man, but it was the best way to communicate without tipping the others off. Dawn gave a brief, apologetic smile at the man for a moment before turning her focus back to her Gift- and, in connection, the presence above them.

“Just one. Doesn’t seem like he’s planning an attack...he knows we noticed him.” She delved a bit further, ever so slightly beneath the surface, then frowned.

“Figured out I’m a telepath, too...but he’s not a threat, I think. More hungry than anything.” Dawn’s eyes cleared, and, after taking a moment to reorient herself, she gave the man- boy, really, he had to be roughly around her age- a short wave with one hand.

No point in acting as if he wasn’t there when he knew they had found him out, after all.

@Hyro@Claw2k11@bmxbrat484@Conch Shell VII

The winged boy narrowed his eyes as he watched the group below. Amidst his observations, Drake had picked up on a few things. For one, there was a telepath in the group. And he had managed to decipher from context clues who it was. Two, they were heading toward some sort of settlement, which was what had really peaked his interest. Three, he knew by now that he had been discovered. Cursed telepath. He didn’t much care for that sort of gift, as it left one feeling completely exposed. Thoughts were private for a reason, after all, and while he knew she probably couldn’t help it in the same way he couldn’t help but see people’s auras, he still didn’t like it.

They knew of his presence now and were evidently talking about it. This much he could pick up from general lip-reading, despite their hushed voices, although the telepath’s hat allowed some mysteries to remain. "You know, for someone who can hear the secrets of everyone around you, I don’t think it fair of you to hide things from me," he noted in a low-key bitter headvoice, though the thought was quickly dismissed. Normally at this point he would have turned tail and ducked out of there, but there was one problem.

He was starved.

Food had been harder and harder to come by these days, and he had had no luck on his search lately. Yet it seemed these people were talking about a settlement which meant the potential for food. And at this point, it wasn’t so much a choice as it was a matter of survival. He hadn't been having any luck finding food on his own lately - he needed help. The girl’s wave left no further room for deliberation. Straightening out, the boy’s wings stretched and, with a brief leap, they carried him safely down to the ground below.

His trust issues were clear, however, as he still landed a few paces from the group, erring on the side of caution. “I’m not hostile, to answer your question, so long as you don't give me a reason to be… I'm just… Hungry.” As if on cue, his stomach gave a fervent rumble, earning him a sheepish expression. “Starving, actually. It’s been a couple of days now…”

He couldn’t be bothered to ask them for food, as food was a luxury out here and surely no one would give it up all willy nilly. So he posed a different question instead, not wanting to seem too desperate upon his first introduction. Even if he was extremely desperate... To be honest, his lack of food was really starting to wear him down, which was especially dangerous for someone taking refuge out in the wastes.

“This place you’re going, is it possible they would have rations?” Admittedly, he wasn’t too familiar with the settlements and how they operated. But maybe they would have a soup kitchen of sorts to feed travelers. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably not, but he could dream.

"Ugh, it's so hoooooooooooooooot!" Lucas had his feet up on the weal and the seat reclined, resting in agony from the heat. He hadn't gotten much of a chance to sleep thanks to the wonderful denizens of the town that kept trying to strip the truck for parts. One person had already tried to take it, thinking no one was around. At least now the corpse next to the door could serve as a deterrent. He'd left for only a few minutes earlier to drop Miles off at the doctor's and to sell his loot, but by the time he'd gotten back, the thief had already been trying to hotwire it. An armored truck like that was worth a lot to people in the wastes, especially one with the marks of Liberty. It could be used for smuggling goods into Liberty and for safe travel around the wasteland with a bit of gas.

He took a glance outside to see if he could locate Miles through the window. "I should’ve left a note with the doc," Lucas sighed.

Orion flinched at the sudden mental contact, involuntarily starting to filter his own thoughts before he had even fully processed what was being conveyed. The contact was a stupid mistake on his part; a less well-intentioned gifted could have taken advantage of Orion in an instant.

"I apologize for my assumption, brother," Orion replied, reciprocating the shifter's title. He eyed the wound with apprehension, taking in the torn flesh that puckered around the arrow's shaft. It would hurt to pull free,
to be certain, and Orion did not know this man well enough to gauge a response. "And I apologize that I'm not much of a doctor, either, but..."

Before he could reach for the arrow, the booming voice of a Knight echoed through the ruins. Her thick accent reverberated against the concrete and through the dry air, and it took Orion almost two of his allotted five seconds to pick out exactly where his would-be attacker stood. By the time he had spotted her, his new ally had already taken the lead in placing himself in the line of fire.

"I'll be too heavy," Orion said, not bothering to wonder his he was making clear sense while his mind raced at the implications of this new development. The silvery black metal finish of his skin glinted in the high morning sun,
but he could not bank on it to protect him without knowing her gift. And if she was alone, it must have been something rough.

Regardless, he had never been much for running.

"I'll be fine. Go, now." Without warning, Orion reached forward and tugged the arrow forward out of the shifter's wing in one firm motion.

"I've done no treason," he called up the rise. His posture was calm as he took a few steps toward her, and his hands were raised, palms up. He had no weapons to show, but his body language was confident. "And I harbor no ill-will for the brave men and women of the Knight force. I just want to be left in peace. So please, leave us?"

Eira took note that the telepath seemed vulnerable when using her Gift, and told herself to talk to the girl about the weakness at a later time if they got the opportunity. She would rather not have the Mental zoned out if they happened upon a dire situation during the night, or at least have some sort of warning before she did so. Here and now didn't seem to be the place or time, though, and by this time tomorrow they would have gone their separate ways.

Eira watched the newcomer descend with genuine interest, taking a step towards the figure. "You are by far the strangest being Eira has seen in awhile." she noted casually, head tilted in it's usual curious fashion as she regarded the boy. "Yes, you are quite the anomaly, aren't you." It was more of a statement coming from the girl than a question. She was also quite curious as to how the boy had known of Dawns gift, as most people able to sense those powers are other Mentals such as herself.

The pyro slid her bag off her shoulder at his confession to being hungry and reached both hands in, pulling out a sizable cadaver. "Eira caught a rat today, or maybe it was a small possum, but.." Eira glanced up at Aran for a moment, before looking back towards the strange man. "Her.. father isn't too keen on possibly diseased rodents. She wouldn't mind sharing, and we can even cook it for you. We would rather not have someone on the verge of passing out tagging along, you would just end up being a liability." She holds the carcass by its tail, letting it hang at her side casually as she talks. Now that she was thinking about it, it was about time for the Psychometric to feed her body before she became a casualty herself. "Weren't you just wishing to take a break, Aran? After Eira eats, we could go scout ahead some for a suitable place to spend the night while you rest, as I'm not too optimistic we can make it to the settlement before dusk."

@Conch Shell VII@EchoicChamber@Claw2k11@Hyro