Fleo Plector – Reezun Town
The return of Nolan heralded a bright look from Fleo, though this expression contained more depth than her commonplace happiness. Whether from within, from the visage of sand-pitted Reezun, or from the tale imparted to her, she'd stoked up a new fire. With three comrades at her side, she would be completing her first job in no time, and not with the mindless earnestness characteristic of most first-timers either, thanks to the warnings of old Hemwick.
While the horses, plain as they were, delighted Fleo, she knew that there was no time to spend stroking their noses or scratching their necks. Using a tiny Sirocco to boost her up and negate the obstacle of her own height, Fleo mounted one of the horses. Only once before had she ridden, but the confidence that beat within her heart assured her that it'd be easy. So focused on dredging up what snippets of memory she could about riding was Fleo that she almost forgot to share her newly-acquired information with the others.
“I heard about the guy we're going after from this cool old dude named Hemwick. Obviously, the rogue is crazy, and definitely violent, but not sadistic. When he came by Reezun he was ranting about some sort of monster...some sort of awful, watery thing who's invisible most of the time. Apparently the rogue's guild had become aware of the thing and tried to capture it, if sense could be made out of his ramblings. From there the details are pretty shaky, but the rogue was terrified that the thing was 'coming after him to finish the job'. I wonder if that means this monster was what killed his guild? If, uh, it exists. Might be the guy's just a loony. Are we heading off now?” Fleo, ever hungry to experience new and interesting things, couldn't help but consider the rogue mage's case with intrigue, and whether or not this would affect her fighting ability remained to be seen.
-=-=-=-
Nero – Train
Nero – Train
As Prince slimed languidly to the floor, taking up a fair share of the carriage's horizontal real estate, Nero smirked. Even someone who tended to disregard authority and propriety, as the genie admitted with reluctance that he himself was wont to do, it took a fair share of feline possessiveness to impose in such a manner on a public place. People with the semblances of animals were rather rare of Fiore, but they wore away at Nero's cheer to no end. Aside from being immune to the Law of Atavism, they tended to digress so remarkably from the discernible bounds of human nature. That sort of unpredictability certainly eroded at the inner peace of one who craved feeling in control of the situation.
It took a pinch of self-restraint, a healthy dose of remembrance concerning Nero's physical abilities, and a smattering of wishful thinking to keep from planting a palm on Prince's nose when he mimed what looked to the genie like a window opening in front of his face. Though Nero stood remarkably far away from white knightdom, the catman's following commentary on Sasha's looks, coupled with his flirtatious advance, ruffled his feathers. What a creep! Do girls let him get away with this ogling because he's handsome? If I were to act like that, they'd clap me in irons! And then they'd bleed internally, of course, but that's beside the point No trace of bitter thought wormed its way onto his smile, however, as he responded to Sasha with gusto now that animals were concerned. “Mockingbird!Brown tops, white bottoms, and the most talented voices of all birds! They so masterfully mimic the songs of others that they let their own songs lie buried, true secrets to the world! I'd love to come back as a mockingbird. Maybe with more research...oh, and the Horned One is indeed a goat. Well, kind of. Here...”
Nero pulled the stuffed toy from his pouch and presented it in all its adorable, misshapen hideousness. “I was so proud the day I got him! Took me, like, a week to track him down. It was a tough fight, but I got 'im in the end!” Of his little plush the genie seemed inordinately proud, seemingly implying either there was more to it than met the eye, or less to his sanity.
Next came Lazarus's reply, and Nero was only too pleased to rattle off a rebuke to that, in a manner that spoke heavily of gibing. His mention of the unidentified watcher went ignored for now. “White...the color of marble, the crumbling legacy of the ancients! The color of swans, graceful but fragile! And of clouds, huge but insubstantial. All so gorgeously idyllic, but detached, and...devoid. Fascinating! Tehee.”
Finally, Nero elected to give the nondescript intruder his warranted attention, though he could not stop himself from laughing out loud at Prince's continued flirtations. Once the realization came that Prince, like him, was merely trying to get a rise out of the others for amusements' sake, it was a lot easier to smile at his ridiculous display of poor manners. In fact, what began as a contemptuous rivalry rapidly morphed into a game, though Nero suspected that to win someone had to be obnoxious enough to get kicked out of a moving train. No matter—he was up for it. But now it was Prince's turn, so Nero patiently waited to see how the stranger reacted, and to see if Sasha would knee Prince in the chin for his invasion of her personal space. Given the general attitude of women of the brand Nero judged her to be, she couldn't possibly stand for it.