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[hr][b]Zun - Airport
Clover ([@Gentlemanvaultboy])[/b][hr]
Jonas raised an eyebrow in befuddlement at the mention of her not setting up shop, before mutely mouthing oh to himself all while looking over at the assaulted individual. He wrinkled his nose, turning to look back at the individual, scrutinizing him as if he had millions of ants all congregating around that red contrusion.

Of course, his gaze immediately shifted back to hers as she introduced herself, thrusting out a hand to meet with his. That once judgemental, inquisitive visage shifted swiftly in the manner of a couple of seconds. He whipped his body around, raising a hand to meet with hers all while displaying an affable, relaxed smile.

[color=598527]"Aye, a pleasure to meet'cha Clover; I'm Jonas... Jonas Langer,"[/color] he chuckled, gripping her hand, locking eyes with the bunny girl, and giving Clover a firm handshake.

Once that was finished, he let his own hand go, letting it fall back to his side at a leisurely rate, but not before placing it on the side of his hip and pressing a finger against his lips.

[color=598527]"Sssh!... if you must know... I'm hunting wabbits,"[/color] Jonas' prior exterior had changed once again, stoically glaring at the woman as he delivered the line with a deadpan rhetoric. Of course, he didn't bother keeping that facade up as he sluggishly tilted his head to the side, impishly smirking whilst leaving his hand frozen in place.

[color=598527]"Hah, sorry, couldn't help myself... but regardless, I was actually lookin' for a decent bite t'grab; got off my flight with a friend nearly an hour ago an' was feelin' a bit peckish,"[/color] he rolled his head rolled back into place, as his other hand, once more, fell away.

[color=598527]"Thought y'might have a recommendation of what t'eat since, well, I assumed you worked around here; my mistake, Clover."[/color]

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[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjEyOC40MzIyOTEuVm1WeVoyRWdTV3huY21GMlpXNCwuMAAA/wind-sans-serif.regular.png[/img][/center][hr][b]Zun - Airport
Rod ([@wxps350]), Nameless ([@DocRock])[/b][hr]
Really... she came all the way out here for this.

There was no words to describe her exasperation, no way to properly convey it beyond that unsubtle scowl, shaking head, and slumped shoulders. In the midst of the crowd, she pivoted away from the spokesperson, trudging in the opposite direction, eyes fixated on the airports door.

Verga had no intentions of responding to the nomads who flocked to this area, nor the ones she bumped, or shoved out of the way effortlessly with a light tap of her shoulder. They were angry, a cacophony of erupting arguments and shouts as the spokesperson too departed... but she really didn't care.

She could not give a single damn about how none of these Nomads, frauds or otherwise reacted to the news, nor could she even waste any energy on responding to the angry shouts directed at her when they tried provoking her after being forced out of her way. The woman in purple strode coolly and calmly, pondering on the other possibilities of this place she could take advantage of.

A new technique to further herself? Hm...

Such a thought was interrupted, of course, by a flickering firebrand of a girl, trying to ignite embers of this cancellation. The words, possibly like that blonde child, were weak, meaningless. The only thing she managed to get from Verga was a weary gaze, but that was about it. Nothing else as she sifted through the crowd, trying to gauge if there was [i]anyone[/i] that could at least give her a proper fight as well while she was here.

...

... nothing, no one. She could only really huff or sigh at this point as she lightly bumped aside some gaudy midget with sunglasses inside before finding herself liberating from the almost suffocating crowd. Beyond that, her agenda was clear.

The way she walked didn't change, the way she gazed didn't change, she was stone-faced through and through, not bothering to change the trajectory in which she walked. Verga constantly plowed on ahead, roughly bumping a girl in a biker costume to the side with little to no effort or care at all, glaring intently at the sun-kissed crowd beyond the airports liberating doors.