[hr] [center][H1][b][u][color=c4df9b]Finbarr Callaghan[/color][/u][/b][/H1] [b]The Galactic Bazaar[/b][/Center] [hr] [quote]The hologram then turned to Ashton and Flame, the former which had frozen in shock at the consequences of his attempt to be 'clever, while the latter clenched his fists, "...And also gave the OIS a pretext to put hundreds of thousands more people under surveillance. But that's beside the point - Most of the money your crew acquired due to speculation has been stolen from your accounts, let it be a lesson for not coordinating with us."[/quote] [color=c4df9b]"Oh, great. Just great."[/color] Finbarr shook his head, not bothering to look up as he inspected the unignited hilt of his trusty plasma blade. He had added a few decoration to it, with a pair of intertwined silver snakes being etched unto the surface. He glanced towards Narvia, silently lamenting the kind of misfortune that their future together had just suffered. He was this close, [i]this[/i] close towards achieving his goal, and now, it was all gone, just like that. Not only that, but a lot of people have been turned into collateral damage by the reckless actions of someone, no, some-two. [color=c4df9b]"I was planning to invest my portion into worthy causes..."[/color] Finbarr trailed off, his tone betraying a lie. [color=c4df9b]""Welp, life is life, and life sucks."[/color] Fortunately enough, they were going to have a visitor soon, one going by the moniker of Doruva Aoshen, scion of the House of Aoshen. Finbarr remembered the Kanarusians from their previous field operations while fighting their fractured houses; shapeshifting reptilian beasts gifted with elemental magicks that made it difficult for regular forces to deal with them. They were as capricious as they were cunning, the propagandists said. And now they'll have one as a friend! As the conference continued, Finbarr's mind wandered to whole other dimension. His imagination filled with fried onions dripped in oil, just like the ones that were his favorite back on Titan. The lyrics of the French onion song that was used for marching rang within his head. Oh, and burgers. One can never go wrong with burgers... Finbarr continued to fly around the tenth dimension until the end of the meeting, wherein he quickly zoomed towards the mess. He was an itty bit famished after running around the Galactic Bazaar and fighting Goblin monsters, and since they were just waiting around for the Kanarusian liaison to arrive, he figured that he'd make use of his time in a way that didn't involve turning into a cat and going to a ten hour nap. They weren't particularly short on money, or ingredients, and as such, he did what he daydreamed about: make fried onions. The smell of frying would filter in from the mess hall of the Xuanzhang, and there he was, perhaps waiting for Narvia to ask him about their future finances. Or anyone, really. He would truly appreciate if someone were to volunteer to taste test.