[center][h3]Norway - Skiafjell Ski Lodge[/h3][/center]
[center][@Lugubrious][@Rune_Alchemist][@Anonawrimo][@TheFake][/center]
[hr]

A few minutes slipped by in relative peace, allowing Marxion to doze off where he sat despite the general hubbub. With barely any time at his disposal, he couldn't even come close to sinking into the deep sleep where real rest happened and dreams could filter through, but it was nice enough that the sensation of an impact right next to him felt like a rude awakening. After a moment or two of coming to his senses, he realized he'd already gotten stiff somehow and groaned. Once he'd straightened up and wiped at his eyes a bit -which had leaked a couple tears once well shut- he found himself greeted by the voice of an unfamiliar woman. Naturally, with it being so close and all, he looked to the side. There sat the very picture of posture and etiquette, slender and short and glamorous despite not being outstanding. And with yellow eyes...remarkably similar to his own. Of course, he could barely tell since she was...not looking at him?

Were he the anxious sort Marxion might have looked away, letting the moment turn awkward, but instead he gave a sharp exhale through his nose and a wry smile. The young lady wouldn't have parked herself by him if she didn't want his attention, or at least cared about receiving it. He came with the territory. “Yeh, she's alright. Beautiful. Empty. Cold. Mis'rable. Without anythin' real interestin' to see or do...'til now that is.” He glanced over at the other Rift Divers at Soraya's mention of 'this whole business,' then back at the girl. Now she was looking his way, with a toying sort of look. With a shrug, he replied, “Real piss up, sure. With teams like them around, I'm gonna be flat out tryin' to snag my share from the Rift.”

A few words reached him from a trio not far away: [i]do we have assigned groups or are we finding our own like last month in New Mexico?[/i] An opportunity—a path to greater glory waiting ahead. Clearing his voice, Marxion upped the volume a notch and said, “'Course, nothin' stoppin' folks like us from workin' together against those big teams. Fair's fair.” As if on cue, a little man in blue appeared and installed himself on the other side of Soraya. Under normal circumstances Marxion might have felt intruded upon, but people weren't in Skiafjell Ski Lodge today by accident, and his current gambit needed as many members as he could get. Still, he didn't know for sure until the new arrival turned to talk to Soraya, found Marxion already leaning forward and staring pointedly at him, and revealed another set of yellow eyes.

What a coincidence.

But what the kid said made him pause. Was this some sort of joke? He unpaused the next second, steamrolling right over whatever Soraya might've been fixing to say without a care in the world. “You ain't here for the Prospector's Rift, mate?”