Bjorn held a quiet optimism towards the concept of a Chrono-led rebellion. He had no particular love for A.R.M.O. and the less-than-surprising fact that the mission given by a character known as 'the lizard' was in fact a mission that would end in his and Thora's death did not exactly spark any particular company loyalty. Sadly though, the lost number was not speaking about rebellion or anarchy, but maintaining the status quo that was A.R.M.O. This new fellowship would in fact be working to complete the mission objectives of A.R.M.O. and spare themselves a rather inglorious death by making themselves irreplaceable. It was a sound plan, and was less likely to get them killed than taking on the other XI Chronos.
Still, Bjorn was not a fan of how twisted his and Thora's arms were. There wasn't much of a choice here, and the lost number was not only aware of that fact, but he was taking enjoyment from it. Oddly, it was not the words of the Lost number that soothed his frustration, but the words of the Chrono herself. Most would find her mechanical way of speaking disconcerting and unfamiliar, but Bjorn followed every word with an intellectual intellect. Her words were pure logic, and a mind like his could appreciate that. She presented the logic that a second Chrono would come forth and kill them all, should they not make themselves useful and the way to make themselves useful was at the expense of the Circus, or more specifically the circus' dissidents, as the Lost number explained after.
The call for Ice cream was a saddening time for Bjorn. As the treat was place in front of him, he had to slide it away. He suffered from mild lactose intolerance, a very odd side effect of his alchemy, it seems. It wouldn't kill him to eat the Ice cream, but it would leave him gassy. The reason he was saddened was because Thora adored Ice cream, and she'd be out for another fifteen minutes.
"Damn shame." he muttered to himself, feeling the ever encroaching unease of solitude. Even if he was to play the ally for the next short while, he knew none of these people. One half of the group had been assigned as killers by A.R.M.O. while the other half had been the parties assigned to be killed. Trust was not something Bjorn would give in a hurry.
The Demon and the Viking
Thora had been in a grump ever since she'd woken up. Bjorn had knocked her out because she was going to do something stupid: not an overtly irregular occurrence, but doing so had made her miss Ice cream. She spent the next ten minutes ignoring the big, dumb bear in favour of heavy death metal. After that, her brother had filled her in on the details, and suddenly Thora was expected to go find some dickheads that called themselves 'The Forsaken Kings' who were probably a bunch of weak-shits with delusions of grandeur that wouldn't even have her breaking a sweat! The whole assassination schtick had been pretty boring, but at least her curiosity had been sated by the meeting of the Lost number and a Chrono. She nearly squealed at the meeting with the two big shots in the organisation. To Thora, the two were alchemical rock stars. They were the level she would have to reach in order to reclaim the honour of the family name. She needed to be strong enough to get a Chrono's number, or the world would never forgive her mother's weakness.
So that was all pretty shit, and then she found herself in a fucking dark-ass tunnel! She hit her head on the way down, but her general combat instincts had kicked in and she was able to land with a combat roll and a break-fall that made the impact a non-factor. Within a second she was armed with her sword and her Wrist-weapons were unhinged and ready to kill. She realised she was alone and pretty soon she knew she'd need to get moving. She tried to make a little spark of light with her alchemy, and paused after three seconds of nothing.
What the...
Trying a third time made her sure that something was screwing with her ability to access alchemy. She was talented, to say the least. She didn't misfire under pressure, so that meant there was an outside force here, even if that seemed impossible.
She wandered around the area for a while endlessly, choosing not to light a light because she was sure that the source of illumination would give her away. The fact she was without her alchemy was not a coincidence, nor was the fact that they were all isolated in dark caves. Someone was controlling this, and likely hunting them. She figured out they were in some sort of caves, but had no idea where or why. They were manmade caves though: maybe a sewer or a tunnel system?
Her thought process was stopped though, when she saw a light linger around a corner. She had no where to hide, and that meant she had to either run or fight. Running wasn't in her nature, but nor was fighting at a range. She decided to play possum, and suddenly slumped on the floor, pretending to be unconscious. She'd wait for whoever it was to come close, then she'd nail him with the wrist-mounted spear.
Hearing the voice of the Lost number startled her, and she rolled over suddenly, aggression gone from her body. "You're the Blood-draped angel, right? I'm glad you said something, or I might have launched a harpoon through your skull just then." She was smiling as she pointed her wrist up at the sealing and launched her weapon onto the roof, pulling herself up onto her feet, as if showing off the speed and power of the weapon. "I'm Thora...By the way, I'm guessing you can't use alchemy too, right?" Thora was trying her hardest to be friendly to the Lost number, despite her overwhelming hatred for social interaction. This guy represented authority, and that gave him respect. He could also handle the strain of a Chrono's insanidiction: that meant he had power.
Barnabus and the Bear
Bjorn, much like his sister, took the fall rather well. The two were trained combat professionals, and the giant of a man had long since learned how to take a hit. His sister was his sparing partner, and she favoured grapples because of the size difference. He landed and remained conscious, before analysing the situation. It took him all of three seconds to figure out his alchemy and indeed his concentration was being affected by something. The thought that an outside force could do such a thing was...daunting. He noticed his solitude and decided to speak out loud, as if to voice his hypothesis to the any person that might listen. "Judging by the fact we fell under the ground level as well as the man-made construction, it is safe to assume we are in the Las Vegas tunnel complexes. This is most likely a King's trap, meaning that they have disabled our alchemy and will be flooding the tunnels with troops very soon. Primary objective is to reundavouz with anyone and everyone possible, before breaking out to the top side. Thora has a grappling hook on each wrist that can support any two individual's weight with ease: ViPs include the Chrono, the Lost Number and Thora." Despite the logic he poured out, he refused to acknowledge how easily Thora could be dead and her weapons could be used without her. She wasn't a ViP, her weapons were: yet Bjorn would not even consider that an option. His sibling was his family, and he would bring down the entire tunnel before he abandoned her.
Bjorn withdrew his shield and his maul, before an idea struck him. He tapped the tip of his shield against the wall rhythmically. He tapped out the mores code message, so as to warn any Asylum that he was not a threat. The message was short and sweet, probably meaning nothing to an outsider of the previous day's events. While still tapping the little message on the wall, he began to walk slowly, listening out for footsteps as much as the rhythm of his shield against the wall.
L...I...Z...A...R...D