Kiril took another sip. He allowed the black liquid's acidic bitterness to overwhelm him for a few moments, living in a charcoal cave with no way out, his very existence a pinpoint of focus. He then accidentally reached the muddy grind and, the grace of the moment ruined, inconspicuously spit it back into the cup. [color=cyan]"Alright,"[/color] he said gravely, [color=cyan]"Then if you don't mind, any and all modifications and repairs will be done by Ogre's owners. This includes tinkering too, unfortunately."[/color] He nodded at Sara.

He looked at the others, his spirits somewhat raised by this bureaucratic solution, and was quickly disappointed by the dwindling number of group members who actually wanted to get any work done today. Even Bill seemed in a hurry somehow, maybe due to fatigue. Hah, considering the fact his Gear had done all the work for him...

[color=cyan]"I've got time."[/color] He said anyway, wondering how far he can push Atlas. [color=cyan]"Let's talk tactics."[/color]