"Yeah, take that, you weenie!" Molly called out as the last Cie'th collapsed, its body dissipating into crystalline dust. "I don't know why everyone is so scared of these guys. That was eas--" Her statement was suddenly cut off by someone grabbing her by the back of the head. "... Wait, don't-- KUUUPOOOOOO!" 

Molly sailed through the air, her eyes wide with fear as she watched the ground approach. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging tightly and not even considering the possibility of flapping her wings to keep her steady. As her body hit the pavement, she felt herself bouncing forward as the world spun around her. After a half dozen bounces, she finally came to rest unmoving on the ground even as Noir "apologized," if that's what you call that pathetic excuse for an apology...

The sound of an unfamiliar voice brought her back from her fetal position, and she immediately flew back to rejoin the group. Her gun was extended, and she was ready to pull the trigger when she saw Julian motion for the others to stand down. As Julian grappled with his assailant, Molly flew over to snatch up the PSICOM standard issue blade and examined it. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it, as far as PSICOM standards were concerned. Standard AMP tech to bolster attacks, no magic potential. A good weaponsmith might be able to do something with it, but it was essentially useless for this group. 

After the verbal fight with the PSICOM Tracker came to its conclusion, Molly sidled over next to Noir nonchalantly. Once he was finished with his official duty of bondsman, Molly fluttered behind him, raising the sword over her head and grinning evilly. A second later, the hilt of the weapon flew down, bonking the older gentleman on the back of his head with enough force to leave a mark, but not enough to permanently harm him. "I... am not... a ball!" Molly added, her words seething through clenched teeth. "Next time, maybe I'll throw you!" She then sauntered away in as huffy a flutter as she could manage.

Julian rolled his eyes at the antics as he checked to ensure no damage had come to his weapon during the struggle. After everything seemed okay, he stepped to the head of the group. "Thanks again, everyone. Whether you've placed your trust in me, or we're still figuring this whole brand mess out, it means a lot to have your support. We might be l'Cie, but that doesn't mean we have to stop being human too. Camp is about an hour from here, and we should return before the sun rises. Nothing good will come if we lead PSICOM and the Guardian Corps to our doors. I'll lead the way, but if anyone has any questions for me, I will be glad to answer them once we're on the road."

Julian looked back towards their new reluctant ally, gesturing in his general direction with his cane. "Prisoner of War, huh? I suppose that's one way to put it. I would hope we can come to see each other as something other than prisoner and jailor. My invitation extends to you as well, Isis." With that, he pointed his cane down towards the ground once again and, using it as a walking stick, proceeded to lead the group from the city. "Goodbye, Bresha. Hopefully we meet again under better circumstances."

[Center][img]http://i.imgur.com/JqfCrm9.png[/img][/center]
[center][h3]Chapter Two: Dawn on the Sunleth Waterscape[/h3][/center]