[center][h3]Norway - Skiafjell Ski Lodge[/h3][/center]
[center][@Lugubrious][@Rune_Alchemist][@Anonawrimo][@TheFake][/center]
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“Heh,” Marxion smirked, rubbing his chin in contemplation, as his new acquaintance tried to explain his attribute. How perfect was this? The kid could patch him up if he got hurt, and make his fistfighting even more potent? The two of them formed a perfect team. Anyone else would just be icing on top of the cake.. After glancing back over at Soraya, however, Marxion found himself having to amend that conclusion: most anyone else would be icing on top, but some would be a nasty crusting of improperly-mixed sugar around the edges. He didn't let the haughty snob put him off, though, and instead resumed trying to think of how Jules could enhance his own attribute. There wasn't a lot he could do in terms of strength, but...if he could, say, boost the range at which he could apply Save Points, that'd be something else. He'd be invincible. Unbeatable.

An idea occurred to him, rooted back in the recesses in his mind. Depending on how the kid did, he might be worth mentioning to the organization. While increased core membership wasn't on the table, adjunct members already existed. Jules' attribute could be useful indeed. However, Marxion shook his head and put the thought out of his mind. From what little he'd seen of Jules' character, good-natured and innocent, he deserved better than the organization. 

“Well then mate,” he started, bringing himself from his thoughts back to reality. “Looks like we'll be a killer duo. The way I see it, the only way we'd ever go down is if someone took us both down at the same time in one hit. Otherwise, we'll come back from anythin'.” Two methods of restoration meant that neither would fall so long as the other remained conscious. It was an exciting prospect.

There came a noise from the far end of the resort's main hall. Marxion glanced over to discover the source of the commotion, and spotted a still image of a daytime forest on the section of wall above the grand fireplace, where no screen existed before. A quick glance confirmed the source of the feed to be a projector on the second floor balcony above the reception area, where a portly red-haired man stood managing the device. Every mouth fell silent and every neck in the room craned upward to watch as the video began to play.

The Prospector moved into frame, wearing a frumpy hat and looking a little worse for wear than he did on the ad that played the day before. Without hesitation he launched straightaway into speech. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the new frontier. By the time you see this, it will be half past the hour, with thirty minutes until the main event begins. But history isn't made by sticking to plans and schedules, and besides, even now masked men with guns close in on Skiafjell Peak to stake a claim of their own into the promised land for which they have waited—this one-of-a-kind, legendary Rift. But do not let your spirit of adventure falter. Behind the resort are three snowmobiles, ready and waiting. Hurry now, and follow the trail of marked trees. To the brave new world!”

Well before he finished speaking, Skiafjell Ski Resort was a bed of chaos.

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Unrepentant when it came to barging past others and throwing his weight around, Marxion proved to be among the first few outside. Just as promised, three snowcats -not the smaller snowmobiles- with engines already started stood close together on the fresh powder. Marxion sprinted toward them along with the other frontrunners, an idea forming in his head. While he didn't have anything against the others, this was a competition first and foremost. There would be winners and losers, dust makers and dust eaters, and Marxion planned to get results. In front of him, the speediest members of the Metalhead and Tactical groups claimed one snowcat apiece for their whole units, with other loners hard-pressed to cram in or forced to take the third. Marxion visited each one of the opposing vehicles one after another, slapping a hand on each like a car salesman before climbing into the last snowcat. Once in, he stood up to wave at Jules, likely attracting the attention of Soraya, Reese, and Edison's little group as well. “'Ey! Over here! Y'better choose this one!” If they didn't join him, he didn't particularly care -other than about Jules- but they'd be sorry once his plan came to fruition.

After only a few more moments, every potential rift diver had piled onto one of the three, and one by one they roared to live, surging forward up the snowy hill. A bright blue cloth hung around a tree half a mile up, and the convoy sped its way through the biting mountain air.