[IC] A Truly Gifted World (Perpetually Seeking!)

[EchoicChamber]

The Ashland: Epsilon’s House

They had been out there in the gardens since before the sun first breached the horizon, picking away the weeds that had sprouted up between the roots of the crops, watering, harvesting the fruits of their labors.

Mostly Epsilon’s labor, really. It was hard to say that the kid had done much work since she hadn’t arrived too long ago- a few weeks, maybe- but she had done what she could do help, dutifully dragging the watering pail out back at the break of dawn, checking the leaves to make sure that they were healthy and not just rotting away on the stalks.

The kid was a good one, Epsilon thought. Not much for complaint. She’d earn her keep, then stuff herself into her favorite seat, reading some of the old books Epsilon had lying around with the same level of enthusiasm a drunk would suck down a pint of liquor. Care- Caroline had been too much of a mouthful for Epsilon- Care, she’d been working on some ancient human thing for the past couple of days or so, pages all yellowed and beaten. Brave New World, it was called. She’d talked about it a few times after Epsilon coaxed it out of her, in that quiet, toneless voice of hers. There was a sort of caste system in it, she said. The Alphas at the top, intelligent and artificially made to be the best of the best, and at the bottom, the Epsilons. Dumb, senseless brutes, that only did what they were supposed to, because they could think of nothing more.

Epsilon had laughed at that. “Sounds about right.” The kid didn’t seem to think that was too funny, but she didn’t really ever look as if she found anything funny. So Epsilon just assumed that she did and left it at that.

It would be a good while before Care could get her reading time, though. It would be a busy day, seeing that they had to clean and prep the crops. If there was anything spare, that would go to the trading block a few miles away.

On top of that, there was the fact that Epsilon was finally feeling more like herself again. The slashes across her back no longer tore open at the slightest tug, and the pain that came with moving was now just a sore throbbing. She wasn’t at the top of her game yet, but it wouldn’t be long now before she could get back to work.

And, in turn, help the kid finally find her family.

Hefting the bag of greenery over her shoulder, she strode back into the hut, motioning for the kid to do the same. The house was modest enough- more of a shack, really, built against the face of a stone cliff just enough to allow for a pocket of backyard, which Epsilon kept covered with netting to keep the birds out. The stone that made up the walls had been worn down, the tin roof that capped it rusted. There was an outhouse and water pump some distance away, and surrounding the whole place was miles upon miles of dust, scrubby plantlife, and patches of grass.

It wasn’t much, but it was home, and that was good enough for Epsilon.

Dumping the dandelion greens she had picked onto the mottled table inside, she turned to Care, gesturing at the mess. “Start sifting through all that. Pick the heads off. If we’re lucky, we’ll have enough to get some wine to sell off.” Epsilon grinned, a sort of crooked tooth smile, even as Care simply stared back with those glassy eyes of hers.

“Yes, miss Epsilon.”

Deciding to give the “Miss” a pass this time, Epsilon headed outside with a bucket, and set it beneath the mouth of the pump. She gripped the handle, then, muscles working, set to work in filling up the bucket.

It was shaping up to be a productive enough day, by the looks of it.

---

The Erubescan Citadel

Cordelia liked her job.

Cordelia liked it quite a bit.

She would wake up at six in the morning, sharp, and clock in. She would slip into her labcoat, greet her coworkers, then either take on a new assignment, or get to work on any that still needed to be finished.

She enjoyed her work. She enjoyed feeling the advancement of knowledge blooming beneath her fingertips, of wrapping her hands around ignorance’s through and squeezing, squeezing down hard until it gave its final gasps of breath and fell still. She enjoyed talking with those like-minded, bouncing ideas back and forth and back and forth and back and bckc and fback andbak adn
It was here that she felt she truly belonged. It was here, that she knew without doubt where she had purpose.

Today, she was preparing for a meeting. A very special meeting. With very special people. With people who could fund their ideas. Her ideas. They could fund everyone’s ideas, and there would likely be a few that would commission yet another breed of hover tiger, but it would be impossible to know what would happen until it happened. Cordelia made sure to take special care in putting together her appearance for today, which would hopefully help sway a few extra dollars that wouldn’t otherwise be sent their way.

She stepped into the elevator at the end of one of the many hallways winding their way through the Citadel, punched in the floor number, and shot upward. A few seconds of the latest in classical music later, Cordelia bounded out onto wine-red carpet and towards the meeting room. This slice of Citadel was designed in such a way to best accommodate visiting wealth; the walls appeared to be some sort of polished stone. Arched windows, latticed with artificial iron allowed for a breathtaking view of the surrounding city- of the haze of clouds drifting along the tallest buildings, and the smaller looking like some charming miniature one might see a toy train sputtering through. Cordelia passed painting after painting of various landscapes and royals as she swept along, only to take a sharp turn right into one of the currently-empty rooms.

The room was just as pretty as the hallway, if not moreso. One side of the room opened up into even larger windows, providing a grand view of the cobblestone paths directly beside the building, and all the tiny figures hurrying along below. The table was of some sort of fine, dark wood Cordelia couldn’t identify for her life, and, locating her seat, sat down and immediately began to bounce her foot up and down as she waited.

After a pause, she set down the stack of folders that she had been clutching onto the table, then returned to her foot-bouncing.

[Prosaic]

Niklaus Santora & Richmond Durmont

---

Spiders.
The tipsy-turning movement of an arachnid as it spins its web, the way it's legs cling to the fragile silvery threads. The way that thousands of tiny eyes are constantly watching, the knowing that you're being watched. The thrashing of a fly entangled in sticky silver nets, the way that it twists it's body in the pathetic and desperate hope of freeing itself.

Spinning, spinning, spinning. Spiraling, spiraling, spiraling. Intricate silver threads from one wall to another, crossing and curling. Glistening pathways from one end to another. So many links, so many things left to catch, so much to do.

It was easy to get tangled in webs. It was easy to become prey to his own desires. It was easy to become trapped. He was a very busy spider and he had a very big web, it was all just a small part of the bigger picture. Everything that became stuck to the web was just one piece of the overall image. Nothing was truly important unless it brought him closer to his goal. His childhood had been washed down too many water spouts. He had learned to be careful. He had learned to be watchful.

A good spider never catches anything unless he's prepared to wait.

This meeting was a cosmetic detail. A leaf snagged on the web. As soon as he snipped it free, it would be forgotten as it drifted back to the ground below. Appearances were important and it was important that the world saw him, it was important that he maintained what they expected of him. He had always been a very beautiful spider. He had touched up every detail before he'd left the house, one lean, long line of black.

None of it mattered.
Not really anyway.

What mattered was control.

Control.
That's what he wanted, wasn't it? Obsessive compulsive creature that he had become over the years. Every taste of control was tantalizing, every chance to capture that fly was delicious. Every moment-

“Richmond, hurry up! You are so infuriatingly slow sometimes.”

Niklaus Santora.
Try as he may, he had no control over Niklaus Santora. He has worked to tangle his limbs into the web, to wrestle him into submission but Niklaus was a fire that burned heedless of his efforts to contain him. Troublesome. In a way, he loved Niklaus despite how headstrong he had become. He had grown fond of the young lord, they had become family but it was hard to ignore his frustration. The man could function on his own, that was no good, it wouldn't do.

He could see him as he hurried forward. He was a flare of color, sunlight casting prismic rainbows off water droplets. He liked to be noticed and it was hard not to. He wore deep purple and blue today, stylistically, it bore some resemblance to the garb that might have been worn by an old English nobleman. His boots were soft, they had heels, he liked when he looked taller.

Details, details.
Niklaus was compensating. He was making up for what he was lacking by trying to paint himself brighter than the world around him. He was obsessive in his own way, obsessed with power and proving himself. He had to be noticed, he had to be respected, he had to have it all. He had taken to cosmetics, golden dust glimmered on his cheekbones. Nothing fantastic, just enough to draw eyes to his face.

Details, details.
Niklaus was desperate. Desperate to be something. Desperate to be someone. He poured over history. Leaders, dictators. He got this sort of envious glint in his eyes when he read about them. Some nights Richmond would hear him in his room, his voice drifting disembodied down the hallway. Speeches. Charismatic charm oozed from him when he spoke to his imaginary audiences. It unnerved him how easily Niklaus could take the persona of something he was not.

It unnerved him that he couldn't stop him from dreaming.
That was Niklaus’ speciality.

“You are so slow!”

“Sorry, I was thinking.” he responded idly, stepping into the room with the strange looking scientist. He was inclined to dip his head to them, a distant greeting.

Niklaus was not distant in the slightest. He took his seat, leaning it back on its legs and eying the scientist with a grand and never-failing grin. “Hello, I'm Lord Santora and this is Lord Durmont.

[VitoftheVoid]

Erubescan Citadel

The air was like trying to breathe boiling mud. Thick with smoke and plaster dust and heat. Her chest burned as she tore across a shattered wall of concrete, leaving the surface scarred with blood and scorchmarks.

She was furious. Angry. How dare he. How dare he come to her Kingdom. Her city. After all this. After she'd conceded. After those bastards had taken everything from her that was important. Everything. And it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough. You couldn't walk away. Couldn't just hope they'd leave you alone. This VERMIN would never stop until someone EXTERMINATED them.

The explosion had catapulted her out of the window for the second time today. Hot blood dripped from her eyes and from her mouth, beginning to boil and hiss when it hit the Knight's skin. The wounds she'd received in the first bouts of the fight had already cauterized from sheer heat her skin was putting out. The shattered remnants of her knight suit and helmet hung from her body as she ran, already rendered useless but the impacts that came before. She could feel the pounding of her heart in her head and in her stomach as her legs kept a pace beyond any sense of apprehension, leaping over a fallen girder and letting loose a feral snarl of frustration.

WHERE WAS HE

Fire. Concrete. Shredded bits of chairs and tables.

Movement.

A figure trying to pick itself up. But it was pinned. A roof support on top of it, jagged ends digging into its back. He was trapped.

This wasn't good.

This wasn't honourable.

This was burning out poison before it spread.

This was was for the good of everyone.

THIS WAS JUSTICE.

With a screaming battle cry she leapt at the fallen figure, seized his neck in her hands, and-



FLASH

"Okay that looks pretty gnarly but maybe a bit more of a smile, we're going for hero, right?"

Kora blinked through the camera flare and awkwardly nodded.
Honestly one of the easier parts of soldiering was that you really very rarely had to work out what to do with your face. Attempting to look intimidating and majestic but also friendly and marketable was the kind of conundrum that rarely came up in her career.

Though now it seemed to apparently comprise a lot of it.

Photoshoot for the new recruitment drive.

Join the Knights. Join the Fight.

Who better to head it up than the Knighthood's new red-headed posterchild.

Erubescan social media had gone wild that day, three weeks back, when a number of crowds had filmed Kora fighting a gifted terrorist in New Camelot's commercial district. Like some comic book superhero. Being thrown from a second floor window only to pick herself up and run back in again, pausing to blast flying rubble away from fleeing civilians. The ever hungry publicity machine of Citadel propaganda could not have asked for a better story.

Kora, for her own part, had really not realised the impact that her part in the fight had had, well, not until several days later when she'd awoken in the Citadel infirmary with lots of stitches, and arm in plaster, and a really excessive number of bouquets of flowers sent to her from people she'd never met before. It had been a pretty surreal experience, and took a lot of getting used to.

Was still taking a lot of getting used to.

Especially the photo stuff.

She found herself posing amid some mock-up of the ruined library that had made up the arena of her final showdown, albeit far more artfully distressed. She was also a lot more artfully distressed, with one slender cut across her cheekbone painted on in make-up and a small amount of powdered ash dusted around the waves of her hair. Bits of the modified Knight gear she were wearing, clearly just recently out of the box, were lightly tattered at the edges. The cape and the claymore were also rather peculiar artistic liberties.

Why had they given her a claymore. Claymores were Scottish, not Scandinavian.

Least it wasn't a horned helmet, she supposed.

[Rex]

Drake let out a long sigh as white smoke poured out of his mouth. He rotated the cigarette hanging from his lips from one corner of his mouth to the other. He had been watching the factory doors for hours, waiting for his target. According to the information: Maximillian Rome spent most of his time in this factory. Drake should have guessed as much sense out of all the factories this guy owned, this one was the largest in the city. When he was given this job and told who he was hired to kill. He figured it was because he used child labor inside his factories that made the vehicles many of the nobles drove. However, that wasn’t the case with this one.
According to the informant: Mr. Rome was an active hunter just like his father. While his workers slaved over the machines, he was outside the city hunting big game or whatever he came across. Drake wasn’t too sure why he was hired when he heard this from the young woman who gave him the bounty. He figured she was some hippy who wanted to save the animals. However, that’s when she dropped a bombshell on him: Mr. Rome frequented the orphanage she volunteered at and figured Max wanted a large family since he was unable to have kids. Drake had a gut feeling he knew what was coming next.

“He hunts the kids he adopts,” Drake had said before the woman could even continue. She simply nodded. She explained the woman who ran the orphanage might not know what was happening and she informed him the woman who ran the orphanage, Mrs. Rose. Would help him ore with all the information he needed.

When Drake went to the orphanage, he saw Mrs. Rose attending to the children. She seemed like a sweet lady and had a hunch she didn’t know what Max was doing to the children. However, he felt something dark under those crystal blue eyes. He asked about adoption and was more than happy to help with the papers. As they sat in her office, Drake mentioned that Max had recommended this orphanage to him. Her eyes seemed to light up as she quickly walked over to a file cabinet and removed three folders. She presented the folders to Drake who took them and began to read.

Each folder had a child’s picture inside and next to the picture where medical charts showing how healthy and fit they were. Drake knew exactly what was happening. Max and Mrs. Rose were working together. She would monitor the children and note any that might be perfect for Max’s sick and twisted hunting game. Drake thanked Mrs. Rose and left the orphanage, but not before putting a bullet into Mrs. Rose’s skull.
Drake let out another sigh just before the doors to the factory opened and Maximillian Rome walked out with two large bodyguards on either side of him. Drake laughed and joked, “Looks like someone was expecting me.” Drake adjusted his scoop and took aim. He knew if he got into the car outside the factory, he’d lose his chance. He took in a long breath before he pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped from his sniper's barrel and whizzed through the air. Drake watched through his scoop as Max’s head snapped back and he fell life lifeless to the ground. The two bodyguards quickly took out their own firearms and looked around for the shooter.

Drake stood up and flung his Sniper rifle onto his back before he padded the strap of the sniper. In a few seconds, the sniper rifle faded away. In fact, it was still there, but to hide his weapon from sight. He had installed a cloaking device into the gun. This way he could carry it around without anyone knowing. it was the same with his Blazeblue sword on his back. his two revolvers where in their holds under his coat so they really didn't need the device He walked over to the edge of the building and slid down the fire escape before he walked out of an alley and looked around before he smiled again and wandered into the crowded city. His next destination was in sight: Erubescan Citadel.

Drake whistled at the size of the Citadel as he stood outside its doors. He had never been in a place like this. He took the crumpled note he had gotten a few days ago and re-read it before he crumbled it back up and walked into the building. when he walked into the room, there were already four people there. Two men (Niklaus Santora & Richmond Durmont) in lavish looking clothing that he instantly knew here nobles.

"Great, I get to work with fucking Nobles," Drake said to himself, quite loudly in fact, but he really didn't care at this point. He saw a woman (Kora) who had a Claymore next to her and figured he could let his weapons been seen since, well. Hers was out in the open. he tapped his right shoulder and his Sniper rifle and sword looked to just come into existence. even though e merely turned off the cloaking device.

As he sat down he noticed the second woman (Cordelia) who seemed to be rather anxious for the meeting to start. He took out a cigarette and lit it before he addressed the woman who looked like a scientist and said, "So, are you the one who asked me here?"

[VitoftheVoid]

Erubescan Citadel

"Unknown individual entry on ground floor. Main entrance. Iris scan not on file. Please confirm identity."
A voice spoke across the Citadel intercom, and into the earpieces of present staff on open channels all over the sprawling base.

A familiar voice for most, albeit not a very human one. It was vaguely female, perhaps, but seemed noticably artificial and pitch-corrected, a kind of robotic distortion on the vowels, pronunciations not quite in the right place, and everything spoken at a lifeless monotone. It was the unmistakable voice of SCEPTRE, the Citadel's defence system, information, and all-seeing eye at the lense of every camera and sensor inside the fortress' walls.

Every movement taking place within the Citadel was scrutinised.

Of course, everyone in Erubesco was free to do as they pleased. They weren't oppressed like the people of Liberty.

But this was the heart of Erubescan military defence and research on the continent.

And, well, if you had nothing to hide, you had nothing to fear.

Somewhere in the armoured core of the base, in a dark room illuminated only by the glow of blinking processor lights, a figure was sat across a high backed office chair. Their back was leaned up against one arm, and legs, covered in a close-fitting black utility suit, were hooked over the other. From the individual's back stretched a chaotic fall of wiring and cables that twisted together and ran to sockets in the ceiling and walls.

A cardboard cup of coffee sat in her hands.
The caffeine wasn't necessary.

A direct connection into comms meant an earpiece was wholly unneeded.
When SCEPTRE spoke, the Citadel heard.
And refusing the entreaties of the controller of the base's weapons systems was something anyone did at their peril.

"Staff have twenty seconds to confirm identity of unknown party before defence protocols are initiated.
Nineteen.
Eighteen-"

[CommisarJhon]

Revalda Sarot | Shulkwood Town

(Music)

"Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen this girl in the picture somewhere?"

"I don't believe so, green eyes. I rarely leave this town so I doubt I'll be much of help."

"Alright, do you know anyone who could've potentially seen her?"

"Lot of people tend to pass through this town, so your best shot is a tavern. They might have info on this girl, though no guarantees in these lands."

"It's something at least. Thank for help ma'am."

It's been frustrating two weeks since he was sent to Ashland and well, it's been going for him as well as anyone could imagine.

Before leaving Liberty, his longtime home, the old man named Noel had decided to reveal quite a big secret. And honestly, it was quite a shocking one really. Adopted daughter of quite an important individual was missing. Now that itself would make his eyebrows perk up, but this important person wasn't your average Councillor. However, once Founder of Liberty is involved, then your pressure tends to go off charts.

Then again, Nexus always had high expectations of its participants.

Shadowy figures passed by him as he approached the tavern step by step, green eyes staring at its logo. In Tutum. Now while he certainly isn't well versed in linguistics, not even in his native language, he can make Latin word out. 'Safe haven' it means. Revan only manages to let out a tired chuckle. "Quite a bold claim considering the hellscape. Guess I'll find out inside" His hand would find a rusty handle as he opens the tavern's door.

Smoke

Coughs escape form Revan as he entered the building, air filled with nothing but thick smoke. Despite first bad impressions, tavern itself looked quite well maintained, serviceable tables and chairs looked to be made out of old oak wood if he had to make a bet. It honestly felt like an old western film for him: A wanderer entering a tavern filled with good-hearted wasters, less than sane armed individuals and everyone in between. It didn't matter much, as he wasn't in the mood for a bar fight, he just wants to get things done.

'Shouldn't be too bad.'

Deciding to approach the nearest occupied table, he walks towards a strange man with a brown overcoat. The man seemed to be in his mid-30s with dirty blonde hair and long chin strap. Wearily, Revan would tap on the table, staring at a man as he looked up. "Sorry for disturbing, can I get help with something?" Revan spoke in a calm tone. The only response he could hear is grunt as the man stood up, his expression clearly showing some irritation from being interrupted. "If you make it quick, I'll let it slide boy."

Young agent searched something from his pockets, before pulling out a picture. The picture showed a purple haired and dressed girl, who seemed to almost lack any expression. The man rubbed his chin, seeming to be in deep thought. "Her? I believe I've seen this little girl alongside a woman. Something of importance I assume?" Revan's eyes narrow as he saw where this is going, but keeping his smile up as he crossed his arms. "We both know that I'd rather not spill out the answer." Man only shook his head. "Well, I'm not throwing out valuable information unless you give me something of value in return."

At this point, Revan was starting to get annoyed. He would like to give a beatdown and interrogate into getting information, but there's no time to waste. Longer he stays here, the more useless the intel becomes. Grabbing his watch that he carried around his left wrist, he'd take it off and put it on the table. "Quartz crystal watch, an expensive I may add. It better be good." Carefully examining the watch on his hands, slowly nodding as smirk comes across his face. "Very well, I'm holding my end of the deal then. Come with me." he'd gesture Revan to come outside as he walks out of the door. The agent simply followed suit.

With two figures outside the gates, the man points toward the hill filled with various rock formations. "Go straight through the hills to the west, head there till you spot the stone cliff in the far distance. From what I remembered, there was a small building built against the cliff, so it shouldn't be hard to notice. I'm not gonna promise they live there, but that's at least where I saw them most recently."

The young man nodded at the stranger. "Alright! Seems week is shaping up to be lot better then. Just know that my knife is going through your ass if this is some sort of ambush by your gang." Old man simply waved off the threat, saluting as he walked back into town.

'Well, guess I'm gotta warm up.'

Staring at his path towards the goal, Revan starts stretching his thighs for the long road ahead. His legs are going to pay a hefty price sure, but all he may know, she may not have much time left till bandits kill them both. Not much is left to do for him other than ramping up the speed a little.

As his body takes a sprinting stance, his shoe jet exhausts start flickering, Revan's eyes glowing with determination.

'Alright, let's do it. Ready.

Wrist bracelet would start shaking as quartz crystal in it glows bright blue.

'Set.'

Green energy starts flowing out of boy's body, a smile creeping in. Not a fake one that he has had for most of his life, but the one smile that he never gets enough of.

'Go!'

Sand dust trail would form as he blasts of with his gift, skating at high speeds as he appears to be a green blur to bystanders. Rhythm would start forming as he coasts in vast lands of ashes, gliding just above the ground thanks to the 'Rocket-skates' that he got from the guys with a white coat. After tolerating two bloody weeks, he has a final chance to help someone.

No time for him to worry about messing up, the only direction to go is forward.

[ShwiggityShwah]

New Manchester Docks

"Fear not citizens!
The DAWN HAS RISEN!!!"

While the gifts has made heroes, villains, terrors, and wonders aplenty, accidents happen. New Manchester for instance had a very bustling port. Hundreds of ships from dozens of trading empires still use the cheaper water bound ships vs the expensive airships for mass transport. Sometimes boats dont stop, sometimes the iron hull of a freighter cracks open a cargo tanker. Sometimes even the bigger ship takes on water, trapping those inside. Everyone has their own way of of contributing to Erubesco, but most use them for their own ends and in this instance, several flew to safety, others used aquatic gifts to make their escape but the majority are not so lucky.

The panic issues, the lifeboats were flooded, even as both ships slowly sank into the bay. The hulls ripped open from the impact. Emergency services were on their way, but they had to maintain order, how to focus on the fire from the tanker lest the entire ship blows. The upper crust would be serviced and rescued before the serfs. Once they were secure, then the rescuers would go down the line.

That was the plan anyway...

Phoenix Dawn was a new knight, a new upstart to the heroic knights that filled the posters and propaganda. Some thought him a copy cat to the seasoned veteran Kora, others saw the larger than life newbie as a shining new example to follow in the golden era of Erubesco, something greatly needed as tempers fly against Liberty. Right now, seeing his blazing shining golden form land effortlessly on the larger tanker, seeing the chaos below, he smiled, his eyes and hands ablaze, his shirt off and hair whipping in the sea air. He proclaimed himself and set to work.

He jumped down, planting his feet on the smaller freighter, mostly composed of steel and wood compared to the cast iron plate of the tanker. He set his hands and bank and with a grunt, pushed with all of his might. There was a buckle and the slow groan of metal as the ships separated. He needed to open the gap, letting more rescuers to reach the damaged side of the ships and battle the fire, seal the gashes, and rescue those trapped in the crushed decks. He extended himself, doing the impossible as he pushed with all his might. "By the power of CHIVALRY AND JUSTICE!!!" He shouted and with a might yell, he separated the two ships.

He waved to the rescuers before he took a deep breath and dove under. To every tear in the hull, her pounded them and grabbed the two ends, forcing them back together, sometimes from the inside as he noticed trapped and drowning sailors. He would the hole, tear through the metal decks, coughing and hacking sailors over his shoulders. He would give them a grin before diving back in the water. Over and over and over, the dawn did the impossible. Just to save lives.

---

Erubescan Citadel

"And save for those in the initial crash, no casualties were reported after Phoenix arrived on scene." Alchemist Jasmine had been in charge of monitoring and reporting on Kyros ever since the disaster. Kyros was the only survivor of the laboratory explosion, and its reasonable to assume that Kyros was responsible, but with all the data they collected, and the results of the hybrid being they created, the Citadel felt it was too good an asset to pass up, regardless of the loss of the facility- provided of course he could be controlled. Jasmine was talking to another Citadel representative when she came in the room, the giant of a man behind her, a uniform and cape with a few medals and bars to commemorate his deeds.

Erubesco might have a new poster boy soon.

The loud man annouced himself to the meeting room. "Think nothing of it My Lady Jasmine. All in a days work! Serving Erubesco is gratitude and honor enough!" The giant of a man tilted up his head at the gathering crowd, giving everyone a big heroic smile. He put his fist over his chest in a salute, recognizing those above his humble station.

"IT IS WITH DEEPEST HONORS TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE LORDS AND LADIES!!! THE PHOENIX DAWN IS AT YOUR SERVICE!!!"

"Uhh Phoenix, your volume." Jasmine whispered.

Kyros stood up straight in attention, but his smile never faded. He threw himself to the ground in a groveling bow but the sheer force of his act of penance caused all the glasses to tink and all the food and trails to jostle, causing folks to react and reach out to keep them from falling.

"MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES!!!"

He yelled, even louder even as his face was in the carpet. "My excitement and passion at meeting you all FILLS me with the GREATEST OF JOYS!

[VitoftheVoid]

Erubescan Citadel

Kora was just attempting to meet the two, entirely irreconcilable expressions for the shoot when her communicator chirped into life, and a not unfamiliar electronic voice spoke up.
"Knight Norrevinter you are currently late for funding meeting on Floor 14."

Fuck.
She was supposed to be filling in for Commander Gray today.

She had no idea what exactly she was supposed to do in a funding meeting. Meetings in general weren't exactly her forte. But orders were orders. And being the populous' new flavour of the month didn't change that.

A few minutes later Kora came rushing down the 14 hallway as quick as she could manage, still wearing the knight field uniform and still looking rather artistically distressed. She felt fairly silly, admittedly, but when you were a 6'6 Norwegian redheaded woman on a US base you were pretty used to getting looks whatever you wore. She'd get over it.

Upon entering the room she dropped into a chair, grabbed a cup, some coffee, and the sugar bowl, and emptied about six spoons of sugar into it. Some things never really changed no matter where you were.
"Sorry for the hold up..." she added, deciding mentioning the costume would just be bringing more attention to the elephant in the room.
"Schedule conflict."

[EchoicChamber]

The Erubescan Citadel

Cordelia brightened as two Lords- for, oh, they were most certainly lords, not many could dress in such lavish ways- strode into the room, and, immediately, she rose, dropping into a stiff sort of curtsy before the two. She had made sure to wear a skirt for the occasion, a cheerful spring green thing, which she brought up in the proper way before letting it fall and sitting back down.

“Cordelia. Cordelia Vasilisa.” The name rolled cheerfully from her tongue, despite the scandalous connotations it might have brought in some circles. “It’s an honor. An honor to meet you both. Lords Santora and Durmont.” There was something else in her voice, too, besides the cheer. A sort of rushed breathiness, a sort of odd quirk to her voice that seemed to stick even in the presence of such influential figures.

“I’m one of the Alchemists working in the Citadel. One of the leading ones. Not a Knight Commander, but a leading alchemist. Working in the Citadel. It’s a pleasure to have you here.”

It was a good thing that the presentation wouldn’t be starting for a while, or else Cordelia would have been somewhat irked by the next man who burst into the meeting hall, weapons swinging, fingers working a cigarette out of his pockets and lighting it up. The smile didn’t fade from Cordelia’s lips, but she tilted her head in a way akin to that of a curious bird as she took in the obvious Ashlander, the obvious intruder.

“I was not. I didn’t invite anyone like you. Who are you? Why are you here? Inside the Citadel. Inside the Erubesco base. This is a meeting. A very important meeting.” And then the voice of SCEPTRE came online. Because Cordelia hadn’t told a lie about not knowing who the stranger was, she remained dutifully silent, trusting the AI to take care of the little problem if no one vouched for it.

Another Alchemist filtered in, followed by two Knights- one of which made a bombastic entrance, screaming from the very tops of his lungs (something Cordelia didn’t even seem to register, her face didn’t change from that polite smile), and the other dressed in a way that would most definitely draw the eye. Of course, her face was enough to draw the eye as it was, given that it had been plastered over every advertisement for the past who-knows. She addressed the Alchemist first, bobbing her head in greeting, before her eyes drifted to Kora Norrevinter, the gold of her eyes almost seeming to glint in the lighting of the room.

“Knight Norrevinter. You’re just in time. Time for the meeting. The important meeting, discussing research funding. You’re just in time.”

Cordelia glanced towards the entrance of the meeting hall.

Her veins buzzed with anticipation.

@VitoftheVoid@ShwiggityShwah@Rex@Prosaic

[Rabidporcupine]

@CommisarJhon

Nick hadn't been expecting all that much craziness by that point in the day. He'd pretty much just made it to the town about an hour ago, and was currently getting all the fun exploring out of the way before getting to work and solving any problems the townspeople could think of. By all accounts, this should be the rest period, where he could just enjoy himself without having to get involved in anything too weird.

So maybe it was natural that he was nearly obliterated by a green blur that blasted past him at a speed so ridiculous that he couldn't even make out what it really was. Hell, just the dust the... thing... left in it's wake nearly blew him over. For a moment, he could only sit there, stunned and not entirely sure what had just happened.

And then he turned his head to look at the rapidly shrinking green blur fading into the distance, the moment passed, and he jumped onto a hastily summoned spear to zoom off after the crazy anomaly.

Unfortunately, he hadn't fully comprehended just how fast it had been moving when he started it, and by the time he managed to actually catch up with the bloody thing, he was sweating so hard that he could barely cling to the spear without needing to hastily shimmy back up every few seconds, thanks to the wind pressure doing it's absolute best to send him sliding off the back to... well, probably his death, now that he thought of it.

Maybe this wasn't his best idea...

Still, he could at least see the person, and yes, it was actually a person behind the whole thing, and with all the effort he'd put into this, he didn't really want to give up now. And so, steeling his resolve, he decided to try and ask the guy what he was doing.

"HEBRRIIBBREBBABRRBEBBEBI!!!"

Ok, note to self, extreme wind pressure isn't really conductive to a productive conversation. Time for plan B, sign language. Nodding to himself, he removed a hand from the flying spear to start making some universally understood signs.

And was immediately peeled off the polearm by g-force alone, flying backwards with an ear-piercing shriek. Well, he guessed it was technically still forwards, but whatever. The physics of the situation wasn't the most important part at the moment.

Before he could shatter every bone in his body on contact with the ground, he materialized a new weapon beneath him. However, this one was a lot better for this kind of thing... Well, it kind of was. It was essentially a giant sword, with a blade so wide that it bore a remarkable resemblance to a surfboard from the old world, at least in terms of dimension. However, the edges of the blade itself were so ridiculously blunt that, even with the speed they were moving, it didn't instantly slice through his fingers like butter. It was almost like the weapon was made specifically for this task.

Once he had managed to resume desperately clinging to the sword, he gave up on communication for the moment and decided to look for any hints as to there they might be heading. It was then that he finally noticed the cliffs looming in the distance, and if he looked especially carefully, he thought he could see some kind of small structure built into the side.

Well, even if that wasn't the blurs destination, surely once they made it there he'd at least be able to get the story. Once he managed that, things'd probably be all fine and dandy, right?

Right?

[EchoicChamber]

It took only a few pumps for the bucket to be filled. Wiping her forehead, Epsilon picked it up, hefting it into a position best suitable for not letting the contents slosh out and onto the thirsty soil at her feet. She would probably have to go out again a few more times- it wasn’t like they could just switch on a tap and, bippity boppity, they had running water at their fingertips- but Caroline wasn’t exactly strong enough to pump yet, and it wasn’t a backbreaking task. It felt good, too. Nothing to focus on but the feel of metal clasped in her hands, the satisfaction in filling up the bucket, pump by pump.

She was toting the water back inside when she heard the faint sounds of...something. Brows arching, Epsilon turned. There, over the hills, she could make out two distant figures approaching. Blurs, really. She watched for a moment, before shifting the bucket to one arm, putting her fingers to her mouth, and letting out the call of a blackbird. It sounded out into the (relatively) empty clearing, echoing faintly.

There was a pause, then from inside the house, a quiet, clumsy sort of imitation of a loon’s cry.

Ah, Caroline.

Epsilon opened the door of the house just enough to push the water inside, and close it back up again. Delivery made, she leaned against the stone wall of the shack. Her fingers fished around in her pocket for her cigs, eventually finding them along with a battered old lighter. Say what you would about Erubesco and its whole lot, but they made some damn good smokes. She lit one up and brought it to her lips as she watched the figures approach, taking in a leisurely drag.

If she wasn’t keeping an ear out for them, she wouldn’t have even noticed the whispering of little footsteps within the house, darting to and fro.

@Rabidporcupine@CommisarJhon

[CommisarJhon]

Somewhere in Ashland

(Music)

Now, while having basically 'super speed' sounds pretty good on the surface. You'll rarely be late to jobs, you can make bullies question their life choices with your powers and well, just utility in general. But it takes year's for the body to get used to such ridiculous G-Forces, air pressures and well, any problem related to speeding through empty sandbox that is the Ashland hills.

Usually, Revan wouldn't be boosting for so long, let alone in these speeds as stamina is not unlimited for him despite the claims he has made back at the facility. Yes, it may be enhanced a lot, it's well known that bodies cells tend to adapt to whatever powers the person has. Why else isn't he turned into crisp while absorbing large amounts of electricity? But even then, he has his max capacity and there's only so much youth could do for him. However, if he stops here, then he might lose his opportunity. He's NOT going to lose her because of his failure. Too many things are crippling him already, he'd rather not find out that shes kidnapped now in wastes. Yes, it may be pessimism speaking, but he is a pessimistic type, just that he's the one who knows how to hide it.

'Stop overthinking, just focus on the goa-'

A loud shriek would come from the side, enough for him to get chills. Despite this, he keeps is current momentum, continuing to blast through the desert, calming noise of burning rocket fuel coming out of the exhausts in his soap shoes.

'Great, I'm hearing things again. Fun'

Anxiety creeping slowly into his spine, agent turns his head to the right, only seeing... What looked like a spear? If he had to make an assumption with a few glances, he'd describe it as throwing spear made out of pure metal. Of course being busy with hovering through these lands makes it hard to fully examine the object, but that didn't matter. There are two conclusions that he has made in his mind: 1) Hallucinations are getting really bad or 2) He's under attack by scummy bandits. Both aren't fun thoughts.

'Then again, when has spear travelled that fast? Heat is probably messing with my brains man.'

The debate of him getting therapist was cut short by a big sight: his eyes would stare at large cliffs in the distance.

'Is this it?'

Revan squinted his eyes as he looked at the rocks, not much of note: Few patches of grass, dead tree, surprisingly decently build a house. Nothing too intere-

'THATS THE ONE!'

A wide smile would come to boy's face as he excitedly ramped up the mere 'coasting', teeth visible as he's unable to contain it. After two nasty, painfully slow weeks, he can finally bring her back to her family after god knows what she might've tolerated. With sudden fire in his belly, he would happily howl as he stops dashing, instead of blasting himself to the air with rocket-skates. Mid-air, Revan spins in the air while holding one of his foot, his other free hand making horns excitedly. It felt addictive...

Landing back to the ground with relative ease, he keeps hovering mode on as he skates backwards, his bright smile wiped out for a moment as he saw something that will probably give him nightmares next three nights. A strange guy who looked like some sort of pirate, desperately holding into a SURFBOARD SIZED CHUNK OF STAINLESS STEEL THAT'S FLYING AT HIS DIRECTION.

Now, a sane person would take safe assumption that his life is in danger and that he should order an orbital nuclear strike on that psycho. And while it did sound appealing, he knew that escalating the situation would probably backfire. Even if he tried to strike first, he's too tired from covering soo much land in short amount of time and he'd probably miss the mark anyways. With him having slowed himself down, moving at much calmer pace backwards, boy awkwardly tries (keyword, tries) to put up a relaxed smile as he shouts.

"Hey! I see you're following me! Can I get your name dude?"

@Rabidporcupine@EchoicChamber

[Jinxer]

Julius 'Jules' Ragnarson
The Erubescan Citadel

Boredom was a frequent and troublesome visitor to Julius' world, only ever one step behind his most recent task and harrying him onwards. His drive had slowed ever since his amibition, or rather that which he had inherited from his father, had been realised and it had become a daily task to fend off the depressing slowness of life and to seek new challenges.

That was largely why he had agreed to attend this meeting, to raise funding supposedly. His initial interest had been borne out of a lack of more attention grabbing activities but he was becoming more intrigued by the goal of this project as time went by. Would this be something with which he could stave off his own lack of direction? It would be a largely unfamiliar discipline, he was sure, but as with most such academics he would not struggle for long.

"We should accompany you in, young-" He rolled his eyes, tapping the marbled floor twice with his cane.

"No, you should not Harold. You may take your band of enthusiastic young men back now, it has been over twelve years since the attack. I should hope that your nerve has recovered by now." He waved away further complaints from the now wizened leader of his family's guards, a man who had served his father faithfully for decades and whom Julius has known his entire life. "I am quite sure that SPECTRE will be capable of protecting me, should the need arise. Take the day off, old friend. Perhaps entertain my old father, he is need of a good company from a trusted friend." Harold winced, an acknowledgement of the state of his former employer, but he nodded reluctantly and led the team of men away leaving Julius alone to enter the Citadel proper.

He wandered leisurely, already a little behind time but these meetings had a tendency to start late as it were; late attendance was always planned for. His feet took him in the right direction, a map of the hallways of the Citadel fresher in his mind than they were in any database, until he stood outside the open doors to the meeting hall. As expected, his tardiness would not be an impediment to his understanding of the subject; indeed, it did not appear that they had begun.

Julius entered, nodding a polite greeting to two men he recognised as the Lords Durmont and Santora although they had little reason to know who he was, their paths not as of yet crossing. Other faces he had seen before, in the news or in passing he recognised but they not personally familiar to him. He smiled warmly, introducing himself individually as he made his way around the room in search of a suitable seat. He soon approached the alchemist who looked to be leading the meeting and names flashed through his head before the right one settled, although he did not recall a time they had actually met.

"Ah, Cordelia. A pleasure to meet you at last. I've been following some of your work, fascinating, I must say. I look forward to hearing what you have to present to us today." He finally took a seat, an appropriate number of chairs away from the two young lords, and rested his hands atop his stick while waiting for the meeting to begin.

It was such an odd assortment of individuals... whatever the young alchemist had planned it would surely be sufficient to keep him entertained for a time.

[Prosaic]

Niklaus Santora & Richmond Durmont

---

Parasitic.
While Niklaus was useful to Richmond, Richmond had his uses for Niklaus. Of course, his usefulness hadn't come into play yet for the young dream-walker. He had only ever wanted one thing since he had been a child and that was to have ultimate and unchallenged power. The knowledge that every being in Erubesco saw him as a force to be reckoned with.

It wasn't an easy task, not in a place with a hierarchy but he intended to start small. He had found over the years that people listened to him sometimes, that he had a knack for speaking with a honey coated tongue when it suited him. He practiced into the nights, standing atop his bed and speaking to his imaginary crowds. He spoke tenderly, he made sickly sweet promises and he imagined himself as someone grand.

That was all fantasy though, it wouldn't truly count until he took his words to the street.

Treasonous.
This was a desire that could get him imprisoned or killed, he knew that. It would be a lie to say that he had no delusions of grandeur but he knew his limits. He knew how to keep himself from getting too tangled up in his own desires. He wasn't like Richmond, endlessly chasing everything in pursuit of some picturesque existence. He wasn't like Richmond, he wasn't content with just being Lord Santora. He needed more. He expected more.

The little scientist had bouncy blond hair and curious looking golden eyes from behind her spectacles. It appeared that she harbored not one but two consecutive pupils, while this might have slipped the mind of someone more focused, it did not slip his mind. He found himself staring very intently at her eyes. He couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away, he perhaps stood frozen there for a moment too long. He could feel a cold hand clasp his wrist.

“It's our pleasure to make you acquaintance, Miss Vasilisa. I am always excited to know more about what the scientific community is working on.” Richmond’s voice is a purr, it drips with polite falseness. “We were quite happy to be able to attend.”

Niklaus nearly jumped out of his skin when a knight addressed them by screaming but brightened considerably. “Richmond, he's so shiny, look at how shiny he is.”

“Yes, Klaus. Let's find a seat, shall we?”

“But-”

Too late.
He was being pulled away by Richmond, he lead him to a seat. He sadly settled down, he rocked from side to side as he waited. He couldn't stay still, he knew that Richmond hated it when he did this but he needed to keep moving. If he didn't stop moving then he'd start tapping or clicking or well, doing anything but sitting quietly.

Richmond nodded to another man that entered, not because he recognized him, because it was important to be polite. Niklaus didn't nod, he kept his rocking up as he watched the scientist, watched the knight. He liked her eyes, he liked his shining demeanor. There were much more important things to think about.

"Klaus?"

“Richmond?” He inquired brightly.

“You're drawing attention, please stop rocking.”

[Rabidporcupine]

@EchoicChamber@CommisarJhon

By the time Nick caught up to the blur, who had thankfully slowed down enough to let it happen, he was gasping like a man who'd nearly drowned. After a few moments of trying to catch his breath, he managed to pry his fingers off the edge of the sword and coast alongside the boy, rolling over to lie on his back.

"Hhhiaargh." He tried to say, only to discover another of the downsides to trying to talk to someone at incredibly high speeds, really really bad dry mouth. He decided to keep his mouth shut for a few seconds, letting whatever made saliva try to reawaken themselves from the dead, before eventually trying again. "Hi... Names Nick... Friendly... Help out... Going where? Sorry, throat hurts... More talk later..."

He wasn't sure that explained what he was thinking all too well, but talking at that point kind of felt like coughing up ground glass, so it was going to have to do.

As they got closer to the cliff house, he saw a figure waiting for them, and decided to roll back onto his stomach to see them better. After a few minutes, he was able to make out a few of the woman's features, and his stomach did a weird flip-flop thing as he realised that he was pretty sure he recognized her from somewhere. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite remember if the circumstances of their meeting had been friendly or... less so...

Which is why he decided to take the safe bet and wave to her, which many would probably call the exact opposite of the safe option, but he preferred to make friends over enemies.

"Haar-... H-... Hiiii..." He finally managed to force out. "'ve we met b'fore?"

[Danvers]

Quinn:

The Ashlands

1 week prior

It was an odd figure, seeing a guard edging down the corridor, a mixed look of confusion and revulsion spread across his jutted features. He was new to this sector. And wasn't yet used to it's peculiarities.

The screaming wasn't loud. But it was a sorrowful wail that seeped through the cracks of the doors and walls, piercing your eardrums with its pitiful emotion. It clearly eminated from one of the cookie cutter rooms that were lined along the hallway, yet the only other person nearby, a girl...or perhaps woman, younger than himself, did not seem to hear it.

Leaning against the irrigated metal doorframe, the young female stuck a hand into one of the pockets of her dark red cordoury jacket, pulling out a packet of gum. She took her time unwrapping its tinfoil casing before popping the mint flavoured gum into her mouth. Chewing on it slowly, she savoured the freshness while contemplating…well, nothing. Sometimes it was nice not to think. Her mind had been full and spinning but as she inhaled deeply, it cleared, an unnatural silence taking over her thoughts.

Her gaze lazily strayed to a guard who was strolling towards her, his footsteps precise and methodical as if he were counting the number of paces. Stopping in front of her, she saw that he had a crisp new envelope clutched in his hand. An unusual way of communicating with her but okay. Yet he did not hand it over immediately. Instead he stared at the door behind her, eyes boring through the metal as if uselessly attempting to try and see into the small box room she had just been in. She stared at him with the same look of confusion that he bore, trying to figure out what could account for such an odd behaviour.

Oooooh.

It finally clicked.

The screaming.

She'd blocked it out for her own sanity but she had forgotten that everyone else could still hear it. Whoops.

"Don't worry about that. Over here now." She uttered gently as he slowly drifted back into the present moment, his focus back on her, no longer able to recognise the wails and moans.

“You have a new assignment.” He finally announced, shoving the sealed envelope into her hands, which Quinn peered at suspiciously before ripping it open. Clutching the letter to a chest, akin to a child trying to hide their favourite toy from a sibling, she mocked secretiveness, pretending to hide the contents of the letter from the figure in front of her. “Tut tut, no peeking now.” She chided in jest, the attempt at humour washing over him like a simple breeze. Realising that he was going to ignore her attempts at mockery, she focused instead on the words, having to scan over it twice before she really took in what she was reading...

Quinn nearly spit out her now thoroughly chewed piece of gum as she burst out into laughter, the melodic sound reverberating through her body as she grasped onto the guards forearm to steady herself. He attempted to shake her off begrudgingly but she held on for a few seconds until she had composed herself and could gain breath enough to speak again.

“Oh, you’re serious?” It was a rhetorical question for the letter was entirely serious. Unfortunately.

“I’m not the one who gives the orders.” The baffoon had no idea what the contents of the letter even were, too scared of the consequences to have even given a peep through the corner of the envelope.

“You don't say.” She mocked as she used a foot to push herself off from the wall, letting the wails slowly come back to the front of the guards consciousness as she left him behind.

Present day

Her nose was itching.

Using the back of her hand to rub at the bridge of her nose until the annoying sensation faded away, she twitched said nose in irritation as it almost immediately came back.

She was bored. Having arrived in this desolate place a couple of hours before, after scoping out the area (which had only taken a matter of minutes), she had been left with the monotonous task of waiting. This part of the Ashlands really did not leave much to the imagination. Save for the ramshackle of materials that made up what she supposed constituted for a home at the base of a cliff, there was little else to grasp ones interest. Unless you found rocks and the odd strand of grass interesting, that is. She had taken to perch on one of those rocks while hoping that she wouldn’t get sunburnt. Although she currently could not be seen by the visible eye, she was still susceptible to the sun’s rays, that great ball of energy not caring about whether she was or wasn’t apparent to others.

Why she had even been allocated to this god forsaken mission in the first place, she still had no clue. Rescuing children wasn’t exactly in her usual repertoire of skills. The fact that she was the daughter of the founder, made it even even more annoying.

The horizon was lonely enough that the movement in the distance eventually caught even here eye. She couldn't see any reason why the Ashlanders would be heading in this direction, so it must be whom she was waiting for. So subtly did not seem to be their strong suit...

She had to admit she was surprised when it was a complete stranger who barrelled towards the house, introducing himself to the occupant of said dwelling almost immediately. Rolling her eyes, she remained perched on the nearby rock that she had taken too, crossing one of her jean-cladded legs over the other. Perhaps she would just stay here, unseen for the moment, and observe. She was in no rush to rescue the child anyway. Better her 'colleague' deal with that messy part of it.

[CommisarJhon]

Never-ending desert known as Ashland

There are a few lessons in his life that proved to be quite helpful once he became an agent in training: Always stay optimistic, save last bullet for yourself and of course, don't question things. For an admittedly extremely bland city that Liberty was, it always had some eeriness to it. It became much harder to ignore once he joined 'Nexus'. While some things were overblown in his opinion, he'd be lying if there wasn't' some shady things going on behind the concrete walls of the facility. He can list a few things from his head, but that would be a waste of valuable time at moment. Right now, he had to break his own valuable lesson with rather a big question: Who the heck is this guy?

A man seemingly using a sword to fly speeds that could nearly match his speeds, carry giant weapons and still keep chills so far? By ashlander? It's really hard not to be hit with a train filled with billion questions.

Mysterious pirate slowly managed to catch up as boy slowed himself down, getting a better view of him. Honestly? If he saw the guy in the alley, he'd probably mistake the guy for a thug. However, considering the guy seemed to be friendly and claims to be one, Revan decided to keep his distrust in check. Still, it isn't enough to fully trust the mystery guy, why would he bother following him only to ask for where he's heading? Higher ups would probably be mildly annoyed at best if they found out about him sharing any details about his objective. The only response he could muster at moment is few coughs, trying to come up with an appropriate response.

The agent doesn't get much chance to find the right words, as he noticed the figure behind him: a woman.

'This is going to get complicated really fast...'

Eyes narrowing, Revan would turn his body back towards the shack, deciding to stop. The only small problem, he was still heading too fast to stop safely. Berating himself mentally, as he tries to quickly solve the problem by taking the light jump, both of his feet facing forward as fire from exhaust intensify. The plan worked out surprisingly well for him, slowing down enough to be able to stop safely, stepping back to the ground.

Feeling exhausted, the boy only mutters "Hey" as he stared at the lady, grabbing flask from his jacket and gulping loudly as purified water entered his body. Things will probably be getting problematic from there on, but there's not much he could do about it if that's the case.

The only way you can find out is by going forward, no?

[EchoicChamber]

The Ashland: Epsilon’s House

Whoever these people were, Epsilon mused, they really weren’t cut out for stealth.

There was the sword-surfer, first and foremost, currently waving at her as if they were the best of buds. It actually hadn’t been the hunk of steel he was riding that really caught her attention- stranger things happened out in the ash, after all- but just the fact that his face was so familiar. It was only when the guy tried to slur out speech as he approached that it clicked, Epsilon’s face splitting into a wide grin as it did.

“Yeah, think we have. You’re the guy who tried to slit my throat a while back. How in the hell’ve you been?” The tone of her voice was jovial, as if it was a private joke shared between two close friends than an actual truthful statement. Her gaze travelled lazily to the other guy, next, the one that looked like he stepped straight out of some old science fiction poster. “Cybertech” or something like that. She didn’t really care for collecting that sort of thing, herself, but it fetched a pretty penny in some circles.

Epsilon found herself first taking in the bright green and the whole skate-thing first, and then the man’s face second- or, rather, the boy’s face.

“You’re a kid,” was all she could muster at first.

She blinked, scratching along the side of her jawline.

“Can’t say I ‘xpected this so early in the morning. What can I do you for?” She paused, shaking off some of the ash from her cigarette before bringing it once again to her lips.

Her nostrils flared a little.

@CommisarJhon@Rabidporcupine

[Rabidporcupine]

@EchoicChamber@CommisarJhon

Nick was taken aback for a moment, realizing that he'd definitely made a less than optimal first impression on the woman. However, he only let his surprise show for a moment before recovering, stepping back on to solid ground and getting closer. As he walked, he made himself look calm, letting out a small chuckle.

"Yeah, because if there's anyone who people think of when they think 'throat slicing murderer', it's me!" He laughed, before taking a closer look at the woman's face.

And then, after a few moments of intense study, he jumped back, pointing at her with a shocked expression on his face.

"AH! It's you! You're the scary mercenary lady with the teeth and stuff!" He shouted, before a grin took over his face. "I haven't seen you in ages! Nice to see you're still alive!"

He watched as she spoke to the blur.

"Oh yeah that's... I never actually got a name, so I'm gonna go with Blitz!" He gestured from Blitz to the woman, deciding he might as well try to perform the introductions. "Blitz, Teeth. Don't piss her off, 'cause she'll rip you in half."

Much like she had before, he said that in a way that made it sound like a joke, rather than something he'd actually witnessed happen.

However, he paused when she asked why they were there, before hopping back over to Blitz and whispering to him.

"Yeah, 's actually a pretty good question. Why're we here again?"

[CommisarJhon]

Strange women's house, Ashland

With Revan's flask hidden back into his jacked swiftly, he silently glanced at both of them, taking some notes. For a start, the boy couldn't help but lower his smile for a moment as it becomes quite clear that they're much taller than him. By now he has become used to being the 'short one' compared to everyone else, but it's certainly harder to feel calm when standing near potentially trigger-happy lunatics. Despite all that, he kept- Well, mostly kept relaxed expression as the woman spoke.

The young agent shouldn't have been unsettled with an implication of attempted murder, although considering his ancient wisdom when it comes to social interactions, she could've meant it in less serious manner. Why question insanity in the land of crazies, Revan thought, might as well roll with it. Still, he couldn't help but straighten up a little bit as strangers eyes examined him. Now that he thought about it, this is kind of weird scenario: A random dude (who is apparently named Nick) took notice of him and decided to follow him as he tried to retrieve girl, only for said stranger accidentally meet up with a friend(?). Nick claiming her to be 'scary mercenary lady'? Revan's assessment when it comes to the likelihood of surviving today? Solid!

Ignoring the whole 'kid' comment, Revan simply shrugged in response, preferring to stay silent for a moment to get an idea of these two. Apparently, the man already decided to give a nickname to him, 'Blitz' if he heard correctly, slightly amused by his new alias. With introductions out of the way, most he took away from this so far is that lady is all about teeth? 'Rip you in half' has whole new meaning alright, and he's not in the mood to find out if cannibalism is practised in this household.

“Can’t say I ‘xpected this so early in the morning. What can I do you for?”

Boy mentally groaned as he remembered why he was here in the first place, Nick whispering to his ears not helping much in that department. Putting up his usual smile, the boy started speaking in a calm tone. "Looking for someone." Revan bluntly states, his hand sliding back into his jacket as he looked for a picture. "Young girl apparently went missing while ago and I've been told to look for her, so she could be brought back to her family." A small picture would be between his fingers, showing it at ladies direction.

The picture shows a girl standing next to a well-dressed man who was sitting on the couch, his hand holding on to her shoulder. The room looked to be well maintained and table in front of them was made out of redwood. While clearly younger, the girl was still quite unmistakable, mainly with her long black hair with ringlets, bowtie and... What he would describe as distant eyes (more appropriately lifeless, but he'd rather not admit that).

"I'm not sure about what circumstances made her go missing, but I've been told that she travels alongside another companion. Guess that would be you? No bad intentions or that, promise." He sighs, putting his right hand up as boy tries to avert possible escalation that he might've caused.

Peacefully or not, there's not much point backing down now, forward is the only way to go.

@EchoicChamber@Rabidporcupine