Aaah, what a mess. Of course it wasn't completely unheard of for agents of the two regimes to enter Ash, but those usually at least made an attempt at subtlety. This one seemed to be under the impression that she owned the place, shouting orders like she had any kind of authority out here. No doubt a powerful warrior, confidence like that doesn't come from nowhere. But probably not the brightest, either. After all, a smarter individual might realize the problem with declaring yourself to be the face of the law in a town filled with outlaws and deserters, many of whom were also very dangerous. In addition to whoever this Lazarus kid was she'd probably have to deal with a bunch of other lowlife, anyone who thought they had a shot at her once the fight was over. After all, Knights carried all sorts of valuables, and it was a first come first served world out here.

Personally, Alex didn't have any issue with the crazy knight lady. He was just doing his job, she might as well do hers. But trouble was opportunity as far as mercenary work was concerned, and this was certainly trouble. So he got off his ass and kicked open the door to his little shack, a temporary residence for while he was in town. Walking outside, he got his first good look at the combatants. Or rather, soon-to-be combatants. One was obviously the Knight, standing atop a ledge all imperious-like. The other two were a metal fella, looked like he'd be hard to hurt, and what appeared to be a very angry winged horse. Metal fella (Alex assumed this was Lazarus) tried to talk down the Knight lady, not that that'd work, and seemed to be talking to the horse like it was people. Shapeshifter then. Or maybe just a sentient flying horse. In this world, who knew? But best not take any chances, and keep an eye on it. Based on it's lack of speech it also seemed to be telepathic or something, to be holding a conversation.

Now, he could have just started blowing off heads before they knew he was there, but that was the problem with mercenary work. Killing without a contract was just doing freebies. Ain't nobody going to agree to pay you retroactively. So he walked up slowly, whistling to draw attention to himself. Hopefully he could keep this situation calm enough to find out who had the most cash here, and therefore who might be interested in buying his services. Knight lady probably had the dough, but seemed like the sort to be too prideful to hire help. Probably thought it was dishonourable, or was convinced she could do it on her lonesome. But hey, it was worth a chance. So he marched up to the little group, hands in his pockets. As he spoke, his mask's voice modulator made his voice unnaturally deep.

"Quite a mess you lot got going around here, eh? So, before you guys go ripping each other's throat out I feel the need to point out that whoever wins is probably going to get themselves killed. Lots of opportunistic folks around here might like killing a Knight, especially one who managed to get herself wounded in a fight." Taking a noncommittal stance, Alex reached out and popped out his right hand. A large knife seemed to materialize in his hand, showing off one of his two abilities. Well-informed folks would be able to guess his identity as the Breaker, from this little demonstration if not from his appearance alone, although Alex kept the exact workings of his power a carefully guarded secret. He was relying on his reputation here to try and drive up the price tag. "If either of you feel uncomfortable with their odds, I'd always be up for helping out. For a little cash, of course. Might help out with the whole 'killed and dropped off in a ditch somewhere' thing." He was the first one on the scene, so hopefully he'd be able to snag a deal before too many other people showed up. If he was able to kill one of the two parties quickly, scavengers would avoid the scene, making his life easier.

Magdalene sat with her head leaned back on the box. She needed to get up and move. That had to happen. It was going to happen. In five minutes. Maybe when she didn't feel like she'd been hit with a baseball bat.

Noise.

Footsteps.

A man's voice.

Fuck.

Guess she was already too late for the 'Move the supplies before any looters' turn up.

Typical.

From where she was sprawled, rather gracelessly against her supply crates, Mags emitted a rather weary sigh and fully intended to follow it up with 'Alright you got me, would you mind not killing me again it's getting pretty tired at this point?'

But she'd rather overestimated how verbally capable someone was after getting shot in the neck, and what actually came out was a raspy, cracking sound that seemed more like it would echo out of a crypt before something rose up to consume the flesh of the living. She then dissolved into some rather unpleasant-sounding coughs that spattered more dry blood across the floor.

Well that was pretty unsettling.

Maybe it would convince the intruder that there was some kind of brain-eating revenant living in the bookshop and that he should leave. Actually that might be the best possible outcome.




-----

"If you're innocent of any crimes levelled against you, then you've got nothing to fear in returning for trial." she responded, closing the gap fairly briskly, though avoiding breaking into a run or anything that might similarly be regarded as initiating aggression.

Had to do things by the book as much as possible. Besides taking down a man who was willing to talk it out was not her style...though she probably would be more than a little disappointed if it ended that easily.

She had no idea what the deal with the horse was. Files said 'former gladiator' but nothing about him having taken one of the props along with him. Not that that ruled it out as it seemed exactly the kind of thing ORIN might neglect to mention.

As Kora saw it, if someone was convinced of their innocence they wouldn't feel the need to trail off over miles of Wasteland and risk getting murdered by inbred ashrats for their boots. That didn't sound like the actions of an innocent man.

Internally Kora's mind was turning over the situation over and over again, trying to set on the best way to react if this turned ugly. The guy was able to take this metallic form on at will. Could she melt it? Probably depended on the metal. Had been a close one for her pewter mjolnir a number of times, and she was pretty certain she could melt iron like a blacksmith's forge. Beyond that though it was going to get a bit questionable.

The situation became even more tricky to figure out when she saw they'd been joined by a third person (to go with the two people, and one horse).

Mercs. In general the whole idea of them didn't sit right with her. You should fight for what you believe in, not just for money in your pocket. She'd take a good Knight over ten shifty mercs any day... and she didn't really appreciate being condescended to by one.

"Anyone who felt like trying to kill a Knight would be welcome to try."
If there was anything concerning Kora at the time, getting mugged by ashrats was not one of them. She'd like to think that most of them would have enough sense to know that a lone Knight wasn't something to be trifled with.

"Besides, I'm sure Mr Lazos is going to respond to this in a civilised way and there will not be any need for me to engage, correct?"

If two was company and three was a crowd, Orion thought, then four was the straggling gaggle that formed after the end of a decent party, working as a unit to try and extend it into a less decent one: Unpleasant, uncomfortable, and best to avoid at all costs.

This new man was threatening them, or proposing a business agreement.

Or both, perhaps, given that they were in the middle of the Ash. He glanced back toward the mercenary pitching his offer; at the ensemble he wore, his tone, and his manner of carrying himself. It was confident, and not totally unlike the flashy confidence that worked in Erubescan rings.

The aesthetic of the cool, as it were.

He returned his focus to the Knight, looking her in the eye, unflinching even as she closed the gap. His smile had an apologetic tilt to it. Like he knew what he was about to force her into.

"Nobody is killing anyone, as far as I'm concerned," he said, speaking loudly enough for all three of his audience members to hear. "I've got nothing on me worth killing over, save a difference of opinion with you, Ma'am. The only crimes me and mine are guilty of are acts performed under the direction of your Crown. So if that's all, I'll be on my way." He moved to sidestep past her, and then began walking.

His pace was not rushed, but there was little that stood a decent chance of pushing back 3500 pounds of metal alloy with a purpose. Except maybe teleporters. Or shielders. Heavy explosive gifts. A lot of things, when Orion paused too long to think about it, and a lot more than a lot when he stopped to ponder those.

His own spine, too, if he had a spasm.

But confidence. Half the fight is in the flare. Like a snake with 'fuck off' coloring down its back.

He rolled his shoulders so that his back cracked with a muffled metallic creak, like the bones of a skyscraper shifting in high winds. "I'd save the ammo, though. I hear it goes for more than gold out here."

Rogue mentally shook his head at all of them and shifted into his normal shape once his wing wound was healed. He was a red haired man with tawny skin that had dark, tiger-like birthmarks on his the sides and back of his neck and a long scar ran from his left temple, over his eye and down to his jaw. He was about 6'7 and dressed in black leather armor that covered him from neck to foot, a two foot blade strapped to each hip. There was a high tech longbow and a matching quiver of arrows in a on his back.

He rubbed a spot below his shoulder blade, the phantom of pain lingering.

"Damn," he said, looking at the tableau before him. An Erubescan Knight who acted like she owned the flea bitten ash town, Orion who was apparently coated in metal, and then this dude with the unnaturally deep voice pointing out one of the many obvious facts about ash towns and the inhabitant that live there.

When the male offered to do what mercenaries do best for a little cash, Rogue grinned. He was beginning to like the man, despite the situation.

"You know he's right, don't you, Miss?" the red haired shapeshifter looked up at the Knight. "If you somehow end up dead here, your corpse won't be treated with the respect it would get in Erubesco. nope," he shook his head. "It will be stripped of anything useful, especially your fancy weapon. Quite even your clothes. And then the rats and whatnot will eat your flesh."

He said all of this matter of factly-he'd seen it happen more than once. He turned to Orion.

"You got some balls, brother," he called. "If you die here, I'll bury you body good and proper. You ever need a ride anywhere, ask for Rogue Nightmare."

Damn, that man had some serious guts just trying to walk away from the Knight like that. Even coated in metal like he was, there was the possibility she could break through the metal and spill said impressive guts.

The boy’s mind had been heavy with his thoughts of hunger- his sheer desperation to get anything to eat, even if it meant approaching the strangers he was so wary of. Up close, however, Dawn was able to see just how badly it had gotten for herself. The hollow, haggard look signature in ashlanders was especially prominent in his eyes, in the lines of his face, in the visible bones. The wings had garnered an interested glance, but it was the starved look that held her attention.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It’s, ah, my first time going there, actually. You could probably buy something to eat there, but I don’t know if they’d give anything for free.” Most settlements in the ash balked at the idea of giving away handouts- especially when it came to a meal that could be used to provide for one of their own. It was hard to blame them. Resources were growing more and more scarce by the day, and, if you managed to settle down long enough to establish a farm, you’d always be looking over your shoulder for any raiders who happened by.

Still, Dawn couldn’t help but sympathize with the stranger. She would have been tempted to give him something to at least snack on along the way, had she not polished off one of her last cans a few minutes ago. If it wasn’t for the nearby settlement, it was likely she would have quickly found herself in the exact same position. Luckily, though, it seemed that at least one of the little gang they had put together had something to offer. Said offering also happened to be a freshly slain rodent, but when you lived in the wastes, you took what you could get. Dawn herself had hunted a few rats from time to time- although that was only really when things called for desperate measures. In the face of slow starvation, food poisoning seemed much less of a concern.

“It might be good to take shelter before we, um, have a break, I think. That house- the one I was in, I mean- it still has a roof. And a door.” Of course, if someone was trying to get in, they could easily break down the wood or enter through one of the windows, but it was better than just standing out in the open air. Rubbing her shoulder, Dawn’s attention turned back to the newcomer, looking him over before speaking again.

“What’s your name? If you don’t mind my asking, I mean. I’m Dawn.”

It was only polite to ask, after all.

@bmxbrat484@Hyro@Conch Shell VII@Claw2k11

Overreach had been fairly quiet up to this point, waiting to see how the newcomer would be received. He was visibly a little surprised when to see a winged boy swooping down out of nowhere, but then again, considering his own Gift, he wasn't exactly in a position to judge. So he didn't. Instead, he smiled what he hoped was a charming smile and gave the winged boy a curt nod. "Man, they're just comin' out of the woodwork, aren't they?" he muttered to himself.

Once the idea of heading inside was floated, though, Overreach realized the danger had passed. These people weren't going to start throwing fireballs at each other any time soon, and he could relax a little. "Well, hey, so it does," he remarked, glancing over to the house in question. "Hey, I'm gonna head inside, take a little look around, if it's all the same to you. Don't mind me, folks."

Overreach chuckled softly to himself as he rolled forward, weaving through the small group, before eventually ending up in front of the house. He looked down at the three steps leading up to the porch for a moment, pursed his lips and sighed softly through his nose. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder, turned himself around 90 degrees and began to roll through the overgrown grass around the side of the house. "I'll just, uh... go see if there's a back door. Yeah. Meet you inside, folks."

@bmxbrat484 @Claw2k11 @EchoicChamber @Hyro

It was getting a little too busy around here for Kora's liking when the horse became evident as some kind of shifter. She wasn't aversed to an audience, but the phrase 'loitering with intent' sprung to mind, especially with horse-man making some oblique reference to her being killed and the resulting looting of her body.

"Good thing I'd be dead then wouldn't it? That sort of thing happening might really worry me if I wasn't." the Knight responded with a dark smirk.
"Not that I don't appreciate your concern for my corpse."

She didn't really have time to exchange words with ashlanders though. Her target was moving away.

"Sir, I'm under obligation to warn you that walking away from me at this point is resisting arrest, and if you don't stop immediately I will be compelled to stop you by force."

She lifted her left hand across her chest, closed her fingers into a fist, and upon extending them there was an abrupt flash of ignition. Her hand began to radiate intense levels of heat.

"I'm not going to warn you agai-"
Suddenly a voice spoke up in the her headset, the familiar monotone of her charming mission control.
"Enough of this. Engage."
"I'm obliged to give a verbal warning before-"
"That's an order, Knight."

"Alright. If a Commander takes issue with this it's all on you, autotune." she muttered, before making a dash for the man, her hands beginning to spark and warp the air around them. She did so with reasonable confidence that the assembled ashrats would disperse when things turned ugly. They had no reason to piss off the Kingdom of Erubesco for the sole reason of propping up some criminal who, for all they know, could have just murdered a bunch of people as part and parcel of his treason. If the two were able to sell off Erubescan security codes to Liberty or mercenary factions, he might as well have killed dozens of Knights with his own bare hands.

The curious stares his wings got certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed, as they folded almost self-consciously behind his back as if to hide themselves from view. Drake both loved and hated his wings with mixed opinions, as they were symbols of freedom while also simultaneously attention harboring nuisances.

Drake’s first impressions of Eira weren’t necessarily good. As she spoke and approached him, he drew back, his mouth tightening into a thin line and his posture alert and wary. Her comment about him being a ‘strange being’ earned her a mild glare with furrowed eyebrows that claimed he didn’t seem too fond of her assessment. Even as she slipped off her bag, he tensed, expecting her to pull out a weapon. By the sounds of it, perhaps she wanted to rip off his wings and showcase them to the world as a trophy of having discovered an "anomaly," in which case he was prepared to fight her tooth and nail.

Er, well... claw. Tooth and claw?

However, his opinion of her shifted rapidly upon her reveal of food. And not just any food - she had offered him meat. Substance. Something that, especially out here in the desolate ruins, was incredibly hard to come by. Not to mention, he had to deal with having a slightly different diet than most. Having been born with various animal features left him with pros and cons, one of those cons being he was essentially a carnivore. He could certainly eat other foods in order to survive, but it would not allow him to thrive, nutritionally speaking. So, needless to say, being offered meat out here made the boy’s sunken features perk up.

But wait. Surely there was a catch, and Drake’s hopeful expression suddenly dropped back down to caution.

“What would you like in return, then?” he asked, his tone implying he felt there was more to this. That perhaps this was a way to acquire his services or perhaps give her reason to take something of his - or what little he had. Much like the settlements Dawn had mentioned, nothing was really free anymore.

Speaking of Dawn, his gaze shifted to her as she spoke. He, too, looked her over for a moment, hesitant to go telling people he had just met in the wastes his name, but she seemed… Nice enough. She had made at least somewhat of an effort to not be rude or weird or what have you.

“Drake,” he replied, silver eyes softening just a little, “Just don’t get too comfortable with it. I don’t plan on sticking around long.”
A precaution of his. He really hated creating bonds out here when most bonds with people were temporary due to the nature of the hostile world they lived in.

His attention was then drawn to Overreach who was now wheeling his way toward the house and then, well… Around it.

“... Should someone help him?”
/Or make sure he doesn’t get himself killed?/ he thought, giving a slight frowning.

All this talk of corpses being raided set a gross, clammy feeling brewing in Orion's gut. Would they try to tear him apart, too? Cut him open while he was still bleeding and search his insides for precious metals to trade? Or eat him? He had heard of Ashlanders eating people. On the plus side, the only person who probably cared was Mitch, and she wouldn't see.

Though he could see the tabloid title: Where are they now? Washed-up Steelhunter becomes the hunted! Presumably, there would be a drone picture of him roasting over a fire. Maybe with an apple photo-editied into his mouth.

He shook the thought off and kept walking, giving a vague wave of thanks to the shifter apparently named Rogue Nightmare.
"Thank you for the offer, but nobody is dying here, and I'm not going with anyone that cannot manage to carry me back to-" Before he could finish the sentence, the sound of someone making an honest effort to do just that sounded behind him.

He turned to face the night, and instinctively threw out his forearm to deflect her before she could make contact with him head-on. She felt warm to the touch- Not dangerously so, but enough that he took a step back. The polyester fabric of his shirt melted where she made contact, sticking to his arm like a candy wrapper on the bottom of the frying pan.

If this was her warning shot, she had a serious heat-inducing gift.

"Back down, soldier. I don't want to kill a brave woman of the Crown."

Eira tilted her head side to side at the boys question to what she would like, her neck popping loudly as she chose her words carefully. Aran was the overly charismatic one, and while she could be when she had to, she wasn't going to waste the energy on these fools. "I would like you to stop treating us as if Eira had acted in a manner that offended you. All we've done is act with caution. If I wanted you dead, you would be by now, so take the fact that Eira hasn't turned you into ash as an admission of trust." Eiras grip shifted on the rodent, as the smooth tail had been slipping ever-so-subtly. "Otherwise, you can go find your own food. I won't be wasting resources on an ungrateful cretin. Do we have a deal, Drake?"

Eiras gaze shifted to Overreach, and she contemplated the situation for a moment. "He's survived this long without assistance, he'll either be grateful for a hand or embarrassed and possibly offended that you would think he needed help. From the few minutes we've talked, I'd say he would be embarrassed but may still accept your help. Your call, kid." Eira looks up at Aran for a moment, before breaking off from the group herself. "I would say it would be quicker if you left him to his own devices, but don't take my word for it." She called over her shoulder as she headed to the house opposite the one Dawn had indicated. She would rather not make a bloody mess where they were to sleep, as she didn't think Overreach would be too keen on the overpowering smell of blood. Plus, this way, animals wouldn't be attracted to where they were to sleep for the night. "If any of you want to eat, the food will be in here." She added as she stepped across the threshold.

Once inside, Eira makes quick work of clearing the rubble from one of the corners and making a small circle of the non-flammable debris. She then takes out a knife and goes to work on skinning the rodent and gutting it, carefully laying the innards on the hide to make for easier clean-up. She had forgotten to ask Drake if he minded entrails, or if he just wanted the meat, but hopefully he had enough brain cells rattling around his thick skull that he would follow her in any moment now so she could confirm. Or, he was going to be a stubborn oaf and avoid her all together. That just meant that Eira could have leftovers.

@Conch Shell VII@EchoicChamber@Claw2k11@Hyro

@Conch Shell VII@EchoicChamber@bmxbrat484@Hyro

Aran's expression had taken a complete 180 as soon as Drake had arrived. He had rarely seen mutants in his lifetime, but the times he had seen them they were not friendly at all, after all, one had caused the bad leg that currently hindered him so and that was only for seemingly looking at a mutant the wrong way, so needless to say, he did not like them at all, however he had not told Eira of his hate for mutants and when the topic arose, he veered away from the topic to something else before he would say something that might influence her in the wrong way.

It took Aran's entire concentration to keep any hateful thoughts for the mutant from rising, however that effort was doomed when his expression changed to a glare as he looked at the mutant, probably telling everyone that he was really enjoying the presence of the dragon-like mutant, the fact that he looked quite a bit threatening did not help with the fact at all, however, he tried to keep his tone as friendly as possible.

"Erm... Drale, me and my friends here would not mind more company if you're willing to trust our group enough to trust us, however, I am a bit apprehensive of leading you towards the settlement we're currently traveling towards as quite a few of those people are friends and one of them is my only living family, so I need to make sure that you are trustworthy enough... understand?" his glare lessened and his tone was relatively friendly, however, he was still as wary as he was before of Drake, he just did not want to give it any reason to attack them.

Both Eira and Overreach spoke something, however, the concentration it took him for no dangerous thoughts to arise made their words and actions pass by without him really noticing them, only when Eira finally spoke again was that he was finally able to properly hear again. "Well, I'd offer you something as well, but Eira holds most of out food rations so I'm afraid that I have nothing to offer you!" he laughed, however, the laugh was a somewhat nervous one, so it might have defeated it's original purpose. However, once Eira looked up at him, he sighed and wordlessly joined her as he went alongside her, he wasn't one to mind blood or viscera, or their smell, he had all too often felt that smell so it was nothing new to him.

As he helped make a sort of campfire, he looked at her for a few moments and calmed down. Though he often butted heads with her and often argued about her rather... lax attitude when it came to more sexual relations, a lot of the time getting the two in trouble, still, he considered her the legacy he would leave upon this world, for a lack of a better word, he considered her a daughter and protected her accordingly.

"Eira, be careful..." he said to her and made sure to make it ambiguous as possible, he was sure she'd get what he meant, he had basically raised the girl. "By this time tomorrow, the two of us will be eating properly cooked food, resting in proper beds and maybe drink a bit of liquor if we get there!" he chuckled at the idea of a drink, three months had passed last since he had even drank something containing alcohol. "Also, from my sister's description, her husband is quite attractive, so please abstain from doing... well, him." it was nice having conversations like these, it took his mind away from his more sadistic nature and it helped him turn into a proper human being, who knew, maybe in a year or two, he might be able to feel emotions like he had in the past.

Well, that certainly wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. Eira seemed quick to verbally attack him, speaking about how she could ‘turn him to ash’ if she really wanted to, which did cause the edges of his mouth to lift slightly with amusement. As if anyone could burn him, let alone to a crisp.The humor was exceedingly brief and short-lived however under the oppressive air of distrust and judgement, and in the end Drake was feeling more anxious than anything.

Aran had done a great job to conceal his hatred both in his voice and mind, but alas, emotions displayed through a person’s energy aura were much harder to conceal. Aran’s hatred showed through his energy in ripples, which Drake’s powers allowed him to see, causing the boy’s uneasiness to spike even higher than before. He watched the two walk away and stood there nervously analyzing what just went down.

He had been offered food - That was a plus.
The food was free - That was, well… sketchy.
The girl was mad at him - Was it something he said?
Food was limited out here - So why would they offer theirs all willy nilly like that?
Eira seemed to have a few screws loose - An important fact to consider among everything else.
Eira had mentioned the food could possibly be diseased - Mostly irrelevant, unless one considers the context.

Everyone here was still a stranger, and he had come to them weak and vulnerable and desperate for food. With him in such a bad condition, it would be easy to poison the food and kill him off, just like that. Maybe even blame it on a diseased rat, and then raid him of what little he had. Surely his necklace was worth a pretty penny at a trading settlement, right? Perhaps not as much as it meant to him, but it wasn’t like people out here cared much for sentiment when it came to survival of the fittest. And even if he did make it through dinner time, who was to say one of them wouldn’t kill him in his sleep?

The odds were stacking up against him here, and he didn’t like it. Not to mention Eira’s assumptions about him had been rather rude and very hypocritical. Implying that only she was being cautious when, in fact, he was a giant ball of caution, unwilling to trust anyone he just met without some proof of good intention. That, and he just hated being told how to act by a complete stranger.

And now here he was, faced with a choice. Risk it with the food and bitter hospitality of strangers only to likely get himself killed, or hoof it now and hope he can find food in the next few days. One seemed far less reliant on other people and was therefore far more appealing to someone like Drake who had been alone for most of his travels. He gave a side-glance toward Dawn, the only one who had spoken to him kindly and did not show any differing feelings in her aura. Perhaps it would be best to speak to her and let her tell the others of his departure.

“I shouldn’t have bothered all of you, this was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t go mooching off your supplies. Honestly, I was only trying to find out more about this settlement you were all talking about.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit torn. “I should go.”

His polite retreat betrayed his thoughts which were relayed to Dawn regardless of his wishes.
/I don’t feel safe here. They might try to kill me and I’m not in the right shape to defend myself right now. Not by myself./

Drake was a bit of a survivalist in that sense, preferring to avoid conflict wherever possible. As he turned, a dizzying spell overtook the boy for a moment, causing him to pause and blink his eyes a few times to shoo it away. It was likely his lack of nutrition was starting to affect him physically at this point, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Or so he hoped.

“Dawn, right?” he spoke, hesitating, “Just… Be careful.”

Seeing how she was the only one who had stuck around and remained genuine and consistent, he felt it was only right to wish her well. Even if he did hate her mind-reading abilities. His silver eyes trailed back to the building where the other two had gone, reluctant to leave the offer of food behind. There was still a chance, of course, that they wouldn’t try to kill him, but… He just couldn’t risk it in the condition he was in. His odds certainly weren’t much better out in the ash, but they seemed to be the better alternative in his mind, at the very least.

The Knight's strike collided with Orion at considerable speed, a fiery punch that would have to most anyone else left them sprawling and scorched on the ground. Instead however Kora felt the unpleasant crunch of her middle knuckle splintering into a fracture as it impacted with the solid tungsten carbide of Orion's forearm. She hissed out a curse from the corner of her mouth before sweeping her other hand up to grab hold of his upper arm. This was going to be no simple task, but she was happy to be in it for the long haul if necessary.

"If I were scared of that happening, I wouldn't be brave now, would I?" she responded with a grim smirk.

The man was a fortress. This was siege warfare. All she had to do was wear it down. If he started to buckle under the heat, he'd give up. The trick was going to be keeping hold of this walking tank long enough to do that.

This was going to be fun.

Overreach rolled slowly around the side of the house. He strained against the long, tangled grass for a few moments before eventually coming to a faded, cracked wooden fence. He fiddled with the handle for a moment, but to no avail. He peered in as best he could through a crack in the fence, but saw nothing. He reached out with one hand and pulled aside a piece of the dull, rotting wood with a moldy crack. He peered in through the larger hole to see the problem. The tiny door leading into the backyard was locked securely with a rusty padlock. Overreach nodded and sighed softly, considering his options.

He hesitated, then looked over his shoulder for a moment to make sure no one was watching him. Seeing no one, he nodded and cleared his throat. He held the small strut of wood in both hands, muscles clenching as he tightened his grip on the small object. After a moment, he leaned forward and peered into the hole in the fence, closing one eye to get a better look at the padlock. And then, with a pair of soft electric pops, his arms disappeared from his body. An instant later, they reappeared behind the fence, floating steadily in the air. Overreach's hands wrapped around the strut of wood and swiftly jabbed it into the shackle. He adjusted his grip for a moment and quickly jerked the strut of wood up, popping the lock with a soft but ugly crunch of metal. That done, Overreach chuckled and dropped the strut of wood. He chuckled softly to himself, clapped his hands and rubbed them emphatically together. "That was easy," he muttered. And just like that, with a dull electric pop, his arms returned to his body and he easily opened the gate and rolled into the overgrown backyard.

A few moments later, he pushed his way through the grass, onto the porch and into the ruined house. "And I'm back!" he announced cheerfully, rolling swiftly into the house. "I miss anything? How're we doing here?"

@bmxbrat484 @Claw2k11 @EchoicChamber @Hyro

Although the initial tension of determining whether or not these particular strangers would be likely to try and murder one another in the night had passed, it seemed to have flared up again with Drake’s arrival. Surprisingly, however, it was the good doctor who seemed the most...tense by his appearance. Eira reacted to the boy’s caution with snark, and Overreach seemed just as at ease as he was before, but it was Aran who acted as if Drake had appeared with weapons drawn. It was...odd, to say the least, but Dawn chose not to pry deeper than the surface of his thoughts. Privacy was one of the most precious belongings out here, after all. It was the least she could do to respect it.

Dawn’s eyes flickered back to Drake. He was just as off put by Eira as she was, it seemed, and had picked up on the Aran’s tempered hostility- a part of an empathic type Gift. The entire situation was having him consider taking his chances in the wilds over dealing with the group, despite the fact that it didn’t take much to see just how weak he had grown. “Thank you,” she said, smiling gently at his warning. “I could say the same to you, though. Take care out there.”

As she spoke, a quiet presence made itself apparent within Drake’s thoughts, whispering to him without a voice. ”I don’t trust them, either,” it said. Even now, Dawn hadn’t been entirely assured of Eira’s...stability, to say the least. While it was likely that the other two would be able to keep her in check when it came to her outright attacking, Dawn had the feeling that it wouldn’t take too much to set the woman off. This discomfort leaked through to Drake as the presence went on.

”You should eat. I can make sure that nobody...well. Tries to kill each other anytime soon. I’d just like a warning if anyone tries anything at night.”

Dusk would be setting in soon, and, as much as her instincts told her to leave the group before night, Dawn had already agreed to travel with the group for the time being. Aran had claimed to know people at the settlement, which could help make finding any traders there easier, but...it still made her nervous to sleep in the presence of near strangers. Having an ally in this would put her a bit more at ease.

Shortly after Dawn had relayed her little message, Overreach had rolled inside, as cheerful as ever. She smiled at the man as she entered, then shook her head a little in response. “No. Not much, really. Aran and Eira are, um, making dinner across the street, but that’s about it.”

@Conch Shell VII@Hyro@Claw2k11@bmxbrat484

The Plague Pit, local ashlanders called it.

It was a a place that even scavenging animals wouldn't pass near.

A rocky bank over the remains of a crater from some blast long ago.

Every week or so a truck, unmarked, but guarded by a couple of Knights in biohazard gear, would back up on the precipice and disgorge its contents into the putrid pool of chemicals and contamination that now filled the void in the earth. Drums, metal boxes and large glass tanks lay shattered in pieces round the pit, along with years of discarded samples, used needles, and elements of biological warfare too foul and corrupt for even Erubesco to utilize.

No-one went anywhere near Landfill Site 27-B. Even those charged with dumping there did their best to keep their distance. If someone were to approach it though, at the edge of the foul pond they might see greenish mud on the edges quite seriously disturbed, as if something had scrambled out of the water. They might then see the footprints on the ground as the earth became more dry and firm, the drips and splashes left on the ground, the green ooze that seemed to near enough glow with its own light. Anyone who looked at how the footprints had changed in size unevenly shortly after emerging, or saw some of the... were they handprints left on the rocks? Anyone who saw these chilling clues might quickly gather that whatever had hauled itself out of the Plague Pit was not something to follow. Nothing good or natural could emerge from that place. They might as well have crawled out of hell itself.

But no-one went anywhere near Landfill Site 27-B, so no-one could have possibly known the origins of the figure that shuffled along the dusty ashland road.

It looked to be human. The damp, silvery hair was long enough to suggest female, though the stature and build did little to suggest either way, and the featureless one piece grey garment they were wearing, something that had the air of a surgical gown about it, also gave little away. Their skin was a sallow white, which didn't indicate a long time in the ash, particularly with little in the way of protective clothing, though it was also dirty, bloody, and splattered in greenish ichor. The green was streaked through the hair and concentrated on the clothing around the figure's ribs and stomach, where it was soaking through the fabric and dripping onto the dry ground, creating a spotty trail.

It was...unsettling at least...though not entirely shocking where the wastes were concerned. The individual was probably injured, or sick, had just been robbed and beaten up by bandits or fallen off a transit or something similar.

It would be the most sensible thing to assume, if you'd never followed the trail back to the lake of biowaste and understood that whoever...whatever this individual was it was something unholy.

RE1 T1-1 was, in a sense, counting on that.

Across the wastes, there came a clattering, an irregular takkatakkatak of rusted metal grinding against itself. The dusty road had gently merged with another in a simple Y, and down the other tributary there came another lone figure. They less pulled and more dragged a rusty child's wagon behind them. Its paint had long since faded, but it was still sturdy, and capable of carrying reasonably heavy loads. Fittingly, that was precisely what it was doing now. It was piled high with something or other, and covered with a stained burlap tarp. The wagon wasn't the greatest thing in the world, but it served its function effectively.

Pulling the wagon was a strange individual. One who, by the look of them, had next to no business being anywhere near the Ashlands. To the outside observer, the injured figure and this newcomer would seem a study in contrasts. Where the first figure was shabby and stained, the second was immaculately clean, and dressed almost like a general. Where the first was featureless and gray, the second was clad in bold, obvious primaries. Where the first shuffled, almost shambled, the second ambled carelessly, their feet gliding effortlessly through the Ash.

In fact, near the only thing that these two figures had in common was that they were headed the same direction.

The second figure tilted its head to the side to observe the first. They were wearing a concealing, tight-fitting mask that covered their entire head. It looked like it was made of some kind of latex that had been made to look like porcelain, and it was carved in the shape of a wide, deep smile. The second figure cocked their head to the side so that their smile, such as it was, caught the sunlight. The most obvious practical upshot of wearing a mask, of course, was that no one could tell whether they were actually smiling or not. Still, it appeared that they were, and so when the second figure raised their arm above their head and waved dramatically to the newfound traveling companion, there was an air of cordiality, even friendliness. They said nothing, but still, the air of friendliness was there. And if they were, in fact, unsettled by the facts that this person was clearly unprepared for the world they found themselves in, hurt and bleeding green, inhuman ichor...

...well, again, that was the advantage of wearing a mask.

@VitoftheVoid

Drake was still trying to get used to the idea of a telepath, so even though the detached voice in his head should have come as no surprise, he was caught off-guard nonetheless. Part of him felt it an intrusion, but he had stopped in his tracks despite this to listen to the soft voice in quiet consideration. It seemed she was offering him her assistance, and for a reasonable favor. The old “I’ll watch your back if you watch mine” cliche. A win-win for both parties involved.

He stood there for a moment, pondering this before deciding in the end that having an ally was enough motivation to stick around. That, and he was really hungry. Plus, she seemed generally concerned about his well-being which, admittedly, he appreciated. Dawn was quickly becoming more favorable to the boy.

/Deal./

As Overreach rolled in, Drake turned his body and attention toward him, letting Dawn speak first before interjecting. “We were actually about to head over there, but wanted to see if you would like to join us first.”

While Dawn had not expressed any direct desire to go with him, the boy was not willing to go alone. At least not after his first experiences with Aran and Eira. This request of his he was able to relay in the undertones of his response to Overreach. He only hoped Dawn would not try to refute it.

Naturally, Overreach was completely oblivious to the mental conversation that had happened before he rolled in. So instead of responding to that, he just scoffed and threw up his hands in mock frustration. "Oh, well, that's fine then. I'll just roll all the way back around the house and across the street then, shall I?"

With that, he let out a quick chuckle and crossed his arms. "Nah, it's fine, I'll manage. Unless somebody wants to carry me down those steps?" He chuckles again, then quickly turns around and rolls back out the way he came. "Seriously though, don't let me slow you down. I'll meet you over there. Just, y'know, see if you can leave the back door open for me, and I guess we'll roll out in the morning." He laughs softly and, with a twinkle in his eye, adds "Pun intended."

With that, Overreach turns around, rolls around the corner and grins widely, . "Well, this is going pretty well so far. A fireslinger, a flier, a telepath and a doctor. Yeah, this team seems pretty well qualified. We oughta hit town no problem. Plus, nobody knows what my Gift is, so they oughta not try anything for a day or two at least." Suddenly, he gripped the wheels in both hands and skidded to a stop. "Wait, no, telepath. Shit, what's the range on...?"

He hesitates for a moment, then glances briefly over his shoulder and rolls out into the backyard. "Uh, hey, lady? If you can hear me, and you really can see into my mind, could you maybe maybe not... tell people what my Gift is? I'd rather keep that a secret for as long as I can..." Overreach clears his throat awkwardly and keeps rolling.

@EchoicChamber @Hyro

Eira listened to her mentor with her usual blank expression on her face as she set up two cinder blocks on either side of her makeshift pit. She was almost annoyed at his warning, but ignored this since she knew he meant well. Weighing her words carefully, the pyro tugged two metal rods free from the wreckage and wiped them down with a dampened rag before laying them across the fire to sterilize. She stood for a moment to stretch her legs, sore from being crouched, before hunkering back down to continue her task.

"Aran, I may not be able to experience emotions in a typical fashion, but I hope you understand that I have come to respect you.." Eira pokes at the fire with a thin stick, tossing it to the flames when it inevitably caught. "I would never do anything to harm you or your family, in any physical or mental sense. That extends to Eira having relations with your brother-in-law." The woman avoids the mans gaze as she began to tap her thumb to each finger individually, her one and only real tell when she was concerned. She sighed lightly, figuring there was no better time to discuss her concerns than now. She busied herself with filleting the meat and laying it on the rods supported by concrete blocks as she spoke, not wishing to waste time by talking when she could be working.

"Sir, ever since I've been training my psychometry, I believe I've been perceiving emotions unattached from anything around me, and I can only assume it's coming from Eira. Such as, when the newcomers looked at us with such discontent, but not you or Overreach, I was aware that something was giving off a sense of.. loneliness, I believe." Eira looks up from the raw meat, finally meeting her mentors eyes. "Why does everyone treat us like we're a threat? Eira has done well to control herself, hasn't hurt an innocent since we found you." Eiras voice may have seemed more curious than anything to a bystander, but to someone who was familiar with her way of speaking, they would be able to hear an undertone of.. something akin to sadness. "She's gotten much better at controlling herself, but still, no one will trust Eira. I don't understand it. I haven't even lied to these people, much less act with hostility towards them."