[CENTER][URL=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZ97crvBpzg][u]C H A O S  A T  T O U C H D O W N[/u][/URL]
[i]9 Days Since Departure[/I][/center]

It was no use. Collin couldn't hear a thing over the sound of the raging storm above him. All he could think to do was escape the sound as it soared overhead. It's sound was cacophony of birds, all diving for the same, single fish. That rage and desperation was all he could think of as he sprinted for somewhere, anywhere, that could protect him from the machine above. Adrenaline surged through his veins, pushing away the alcohol with manic efficiency.

The machine passed overhead, seemingly paying them no mind. Was it trying to land? Collin couldn't imagine that: it was so big, and it didn't look like it was going slow enough to stop. Once the immediate danger was gone, Collin rose to his feed, hands shaking, and followed the aircraft as it dipped lower and lower. To his untrained eye, it seemed like only a matter of time before the metal bird smashed into the dirt in a fiery end.

Then the wings started to move. Collin watched in utter awe as the machine slowed further, propellers turning from horizontal to vertical as the machine sunk toward the empty sports field which had been constructed for the festival. No one had yet to near the field due to the business of the preparations. No one except a pair of small children, who had been kicking a ball around. Now, they wailed in panic on the ground, even as the machine closed the distance.

The children prompted Collin's action. He sprinted out of the cover of the houses and shop stalls, heedless of the roar of engines. He ignored the wind, howling for his swift death, and the dust, hissing for his blindness. He knew no one would be able to hear him, so close to the machine, so he took the two children by their hands and practically yanked them forward. They didn't have long.

They stumbled out of the field, coughing, wheezing, and moaning. Collin fell to his knees at the same moment that the machine touched down at last.
[hr]Edward could hardly wait for Constance to shift off of him before he leapt out of the Endurance. They were here! They hadn't died! It was wonderful! "Hello!" he called, as the propellers finally spun to a stop.

Silence. Then, mutters, but in no language Edward had ever heard before. "I'm sorry, I don't understand." He tried again. "We come in peace!" Louder voices, but no less jumbled. He had no idea what they were saying, or if they were even friendly. Maybe they weren't. What if they'd landed in the middle of a bunch of cannibals? "Ah...we mean you no harm!" That sounded stupid, stupid.

"No harm!" a voice speaking his own language exploded from the crowd. Edward turned just in time to see a man surging toward him. "No harm? By the Faces, you insolent--" He stopped, taking short, powerful breaths, and Edward felt a flash of relief that someone here spoke their language, somehow. How was that possible?

That relief turned to horror as the man continued. "You nearly flattened a pair of children, you oafen heel! Peace? You come in peace?" The man shoved Edward hard, knocking him off balance and sending him stumbling back against Luna. "What sort of foolish boychild are you?"

He stopped, noticing Constance then. Perhaps he thought she was in charge, given that she was the most well dressed of them all, or perhaps he was just enraged with everyone, because he started talking to her. "You, who do you think you are? Explain what you and your ilk are playing at, ruining this most sacred of days with your disgusting fi--"

"Collin, traolo athan-le conturol immedaeo!" The voice rang out from behind the aggressor with endless authority. The man, apparently named Collin, stiffened and turned to the approaching speaker with steel in his eyes.

"Imroham-get, turol thoclan kliaevu tem cheldera!" More foreign words spilled from Collin's mouth, and Edward's eyes glazed over as he fought to make any sense from them. The two foreign speakers argued back and forth for a short while, until Collin sighed, his posture slackening somewhat as he turned to face Edward and the rest of them again with resigned features.
[hr]"Apologies," Collin said, looking over the newcomers with wariness, but not rage. "I should not have snapped at you. I am Collin Becker, and on behalf of Salaz Imroham, guardian of the Gil-Bagha precinct of Ghal-Priyam, I welcome you to our city." He bowed slightly, as he had been instructed to do. Guardian Imroham huffed with satisfaction, bowing as well.

"How do your speak our language?" The lithe man among the strangers asked. Collin's adrenaline faded further: this man had no way of knowing that they were endangering children. He tried to forgive the strangers again for nearly killing the kids, and it almost worked this time. "I am descended from the...Devil Divers of the floating islands of legend." Every word felt awkward in his mouth.

The stranger gasped. "Incredible," the man whispered. "So they did survive after all." The man surreptitiously glanced at the well-dressed woman among them once more, so Collin turned to her to address further. "Please introduce yourself and your companions to Guardian Imroham, so that we might understand better why you disturb our festivities." Imroham hadn't said anything more, but Collin didn't want any funny business from these people. "Today is a day of dance, song, drink, and...sacrifice. Liars and fools are as useful to the gods as animals."

The meaning was clear.