[h3]Ranch House[/h3]

The presence of the tank’s guns prompted Pierrot to draw a few steps back, hands raised, palms held open. [color=#E66C2C]“Easy there,”[/color] he said, breezily. [color=#E66C2C]“I’m sure we can work out-”[/color]
Whatever it was that Pierrot was hoping they could “work out” went unsaid as the sudden blast of an explosive shook the ground beneath all their feet. He stumbled, eyes widening in genuine alarm for a moment before he masked it, clicking his tongue and laughing. [color=#E66C2C]“Nevermind, then. That’s fine, too.”[/color]

It wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if Bellataire’s job offer had nabbed him his fair share of employees- especially if he wasn’t just lying through his teeth about the whole company (and given the fact he had a tank and a damn [i]nuke[/i] at his disposal, it seemed likely that he really, really wasn’t). To your average ashlander, one suffering the ache of an empty belly and the constant slap of the elements in their face, his offer must’ve seemed like a godsend. Given the man’s ego, he probably [i]encouraged[/i] the idea. However, the Wanderers weren’t necessarily your average ashlander. Percival and his family even more so. There was only one Founder-slash-ex Leader of Liberty roaming the ash, and now, only two children of said Founder. The price on their heads to Lib and Eru alike would likely be astronomical, and that wasn’t exactly a flattering thing. 

Combine that with the fact that several of their members were [i]dying[/i] as a result of Bellataire just showing his mug, and the offer lost a pretty huge chunk of its appeal. Toby and Drake seemed pretty against the idea too, even if Mister Not-Fen had already started kissing the feet of the slaver. The assistant popping out of Bellataire’s tank earned an idle glance from Pierrot, as did the folders gathered up in her arms, but not much else. He was pretty happy being unemployed, really. 

He did a double take, however, at the organic tearing of flesh, and the scream that followed. Hel had sunk part of a bench right through the lady’s arm. Both disturbing, and mildly impressive, to be honest. But mostly disturbing. And then the mercenary guy was shouting for them to cover their eyes, and, doing so, he immediately came to hear the frantic screams of Hel- screams that gradually grew distant.

If this was [i]another[/i] person come to take her back to Erubesco, Pierrot would be about ready to eat his shoe. 

Eyes snapping back open, Pierrot sank into the mist, chasing down the voice with no other idea as to where to go. The bomb had left him disoriented, and finding the house now would likely just lead him to stumble around like a man blind. Which he was. Coughing, Pierrot eventually broke through to the scene of Spire sinking his blade into the back of the mercenary, the mercenary being incredibly pissed at this development, and Hel looking generally spooked out of his wits. Pierrot gave another cough- both to clear his lungs and to draw the attention of the little group- then let his hands fall to his sides.

[color=#E66C2C]“You do realize good ol’John there is gonna be [i]more[/i] likely to let ‘er rip now that you pulled that little stunt, right? And that slavers aren’t vampires? Cause, you know, he could just,”[/color] with middle and pointer finger, Pierrot mimed a man strolling along his other palm, [color=#E66C2C]“stroll in through the door? Or break a window? Shoot through the walls?”[/color]

A fact that Pierrot was keenly aware of, what with his dad and sister still hiding within. His anger tinted the far end of his words in spite of himself, and the panic more so. Patting down the front of his coat, Pierrot looked to Spire, jerking his thumb in the direction of the house. Or where he remembered it being, at least.

[color=#E66C2C]“Guy’s still gotta point, though. Should probably make a move for it before we all get churned into a fine puree.”[/color] The noise was faint, but he could hear the sound of footsteps around them. A lot of them.

Pierrot’s hand dropped to the deck in his pocket, but it was only out of habit. Fancy gear went a lot farther than his cards would, sad to say.