[h2][color=bc8dbf]Fucking bugs...[/color][/h2]

With a groan, Elio rose from his rest, his head ringing from the incessant hum of the rust gnats… he stood from his cot, looking out the old window into the streets before his dilapidated living conditions. He pulled the thin cloth that could pass as a curtain over the glass, grabbing his mask from the windowsill and turning to the scrap metal spear that sat leaning against the wall. One of the only things he could trust in this world.

[indent][color=bc8dbf]“Alright old friend. Ready for another bout?”[/color][/indent]

Hand outstretched, the spear raised to meet him, grasping the cold rust, he could feel the filaments digging into his skin. Of course, this wasn't any pain that he wasn't used to. Advancing toward the door, taking his brimmed hat from upon its hook before open his door to the world outside…

[hr] 

Swatting away rust gnats from him, attracted to the rusted metal of his spear, as well as the flying vermin attempting to feed off of the shards that jutted from his skin… it wasn't the weirdest thing that could be seen, but that didn't quite matter to him. The debtor had entered the headquarters of the V.E.T, late evidently as everyone seemed to be there already, taking a seat at random, ending up next to a Rat Wasteman, not uttering a word as he set his spear down beside him, letting the weapon rest against the adjacent chair. His iridescent oculi stared around the space from soul to soul, an attempt to figure out exactly who and what he would be working with…

He hated mornings like these… quiet and somber, it forced thought. As loud outside as it was, it held within a deeper and speculative quiet that brought his eyes to a gentle close, visions of what had come before, phantasms of that which had past… He shook the thoughts away, nothing could change the past. The future and a hope to free himself from his debt was all that stood before him now.

The Captian's appearance was a welcome sight, the sharp-toothed woman's voice cutting through the deafening silence of Elio's thoughts, reeling him back to the realm that was his reality. But of course, he gets no half-hearted banter, but instead an assignment. Such a troublesome job… the rewards were lackluster, though he wasn't one to estimate other wayward soul's opinions of such a matter. If they wanted a pat on the back, or head in this case, for their work then so be it. The outcome would come out the same either way.

[i]Though it would be nice to go the wrong way ‘round. Have someone owe me.[/i]

This wasn't the time, nor place for this. He stood, last to come, and now near last to leave. He tipped his hat low, adjusting the sleeves of his overcoat, making sure it covered what it needed. He didn't need rust gnats eating away at his ‘reserves’ after all, his scarred hand brushing against the small patch of tan fur that lay on the inner of his right wrist, one of many, covered by the long sleeves of his coat. Grasping his weapon, he made for the door, his gait brisk and firm.

[i]One walks with purpose, the rigidity of steel and the regularity of a machine. You are not without purpose, so embrace it. Show it.[/i]

Wise words. Or maybe he was just used to saying it. Who was he kidding, he was partway to becoming a Qill any way you slice it, the chemistry of his body slowly becoming more metallic, becoming the vessel for the rusted metal that his magic was supposed to allow him to control. The pain was managable, be didn't know why his mind kept circling back to this… the injustice of it all… Just one of the reasons to join the expedition.

[i]But the world was never fair. Was it?[/i]

He kept on, faster now. The others would end up killing the damn thing faster than he could get there. A brisk jog could get him to where he needed.

[hr]

[i][b]Arrival.[/b][/i]

The scene was chaos already. A creature with hide as thick as this would require pure energy or force, if only it had a conduit to the flesh beneath… The spear of the debtor soon left his hand, keeping in step with his arm as he raised it, his movement refusing to cease as he circled closer, a hunter seeking to cut off its prey.

[i]Lest not the veil of ignorance be pierced. Silence those who speak about the beyond.[/i]

[indent][color=bc8dbf]“Sorry Dad. Not happening.”[/color][/indent]

A thrust and a flinch, sending a sharper point to meet its mark, the ragged multi-point impaling edge honed as far as his abilities allow.

[i]Now I just pray it doesn't break...[/i]