DearTrickster

Mass Effect: Borealis

So Fallen and I did a collab for the morning of take off. I'm going to wait to post it for anyone else who wants to post for the day 2 of shore leave. We should probably decide on where we want to go after Elysium. @Dervish Yass?

Mass Effect: Borealis

This is Dex's response to Serena's apparent memory loss from the night of drink.

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

So so so, who are we waiting on for a new post?

Mass Effect: Borealis

Calibration Committee

@DJAtomika - @Fallenreaper - @DearTrickster

The spaceport was busy as ever, late into the morning. Outside of the Borealis two turians sat among their rifles pulled apart and cleaning solution close at hand. Dex and Haze were chatting occasionally while they slowly worked through the clean. Neither in any real hurry.

Hazan sat on a crate, idly cleaning the inner workings of his shotgun. His pistol sat hooked on his thigh, and a conspicuously long, black case laid by his side. He slowly ran a rag over the chamber assembly and barrel, laid bare after he'd removed the outer casing and front grip assembly.

"Ever wonder what goes into machining one of these things, Dex?"

"I've been curious but not enough to look up blueprints. I know how to take it apart and put it back together." Dex replied eyeing down the barrel of her Viper. She had a few bags under her eyes and an insistent headache just behind her eyes. The hangover was relentless.

"Yeah me neither. These things are so similar though. And you'd think that with a mass driven gun, there'd be little residue. But nope!" Hazan chuckled as he ran his rag down the outer length of the barrel. After that, he stared down the long metal tube, grimacing a little at the amount of carbon and powder there was within. With a piece of cloth attached to a long metal stick, he cleaned the inside of the barrel carefully.

Dex grunted, "Should have cleaned this after we went to the range yesterday. This shit isn't budging." Dissatisfied she plucked up the wire brush and started scrubbing away.

"Try getting a bit of lubricating oil on those build-ups. Helps to loosen the gunk."

"Mm, thanks. It'll probably do the trick." She reached for the bottle of oil and squeezed out a couple drops on the brush before getting back to work on it.Making conversation she asked, "How does our navigator spend his evening on shore leave?"

"Eh, a night or two on the town. Drink and eat myself silly. Then a day on the range. After that, it's working out to get rid of all the shit I ate. Sometimes I drink more if the mission was really stressful. You know how I black out in the cockpit."

Dex squinted at him, "We have beds you know. My ass is a testament of why I prefer the lumpy cot to those terrible seats." She shook her head then winced a slight hiss coming through her sub vocals.

Exhaustion weighed down Vellios' bones, his balance wobbled slightly with each step from the ship.

He felt oddly lighter than before. Any guilt, pent up violence or unsettled emotions had long been pounded into a distant tree, otherwise known as Drono, with marks left to tell the tale. Included in the exchange were several layers of his carapace from his knuckles and talons to decorate it. The turian had grinned in amusement at the grisly thought then had walked back to the ship before Serena worried too much over his well-being and sent out a search party for him, his hands wrapped up to stifle the bleeding for the time being.

It felt good to pound something until the numbness came and finally collapse on the ground, something that long overdue since the incident with Tanya. Though he was tired, it showed in his posture something had changed. Each step held a slight hint of grace and bounce like before as he flashed a grin at Dex.

Dex looked up seeing Vellios approaching, looking in a better mood but worse for wear. She tossed a clean rag at him and said, "So he graces us lowly peons with his presence." She glanced at Haze, "Am I going to have to play mediator?"

"That's what you get for leaving me alone. Easier to get back to normal when I've inflicted some violence, either on myself or others," Vellios uttered while he leaned into the catch and snatched up the thrown rag in one hand. His blood had leaked through the makeshift bandages during his walk and now left a dotted trail in his wake.

He tilted his head at Dex's comment then spoke in an obvious matter of fact manner, "If I wanted him dead bad enough, he would already be. So no, you don't. Serena already made me promise not to anyways."

Dex placed her scrubbing brush across her lap levelling a steady gaze at Vellios, squinting while she listened. Not feeling tension like she anticipated.

"That makes me feel much better, Vellios. Though I'd probably deserve it, but whatever floats your boat."

Hazan hopped off his crate and set aside the pieces of his shotgun. With the source of his guilt approaching, he did little more than meet the taller turian halfway. He stopped, sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Look, Vel, it's my fault, yeah. I know how much Serena means to you, and I can't apologise enough for failing to protect her. I... I..."

"Personally, I have two things to say on that matter: one," Vellios held up a single talon, ignoring the blood still on it, "you don't have any idea about her value to me. It's more complicated than you think and highly beneficial that I die before something happens to her. Two, I'm mad but I'm more pissed at myself for not just going with her. She attracts trouble and always have which is something I should've warned you about."

He inhaled then added one last statement, his tone oddly serious with each word and spread to his expression, "It's also true about what I said. If wanted you dead, nothing would stop me. It's not bragging or anything, but it also means I can get over my anger with time."

"Yeah... I know. I'm sorry. I should've been paying more attention. I feel awful for letting her down, and letting you down too."

Vellios chuckled then continued.

"No, you're not. My suggestion is instead of feeling awful, learn from it and adapt. You know what happened and next time, don't let it. Think of ways to improve either by using what you know or skills you have used in another way. I've had to in order to keep her safe," Vellios commented, "It's not easy but doable. I use to simply rush in during the first time I knew her, but when our first group left her to die... I stopped that."

"I'll... Keep that in mind. Thanks, Vel..."

"Now that is settled. You can join us for a bit or did you have plans to continue punching trees...?" She picked up her scrub brush again and used it to point at his knuckles, the splinters visible. Truly what he said in regards to Serena gave her pause to worry. Was Serena aware how much Vellios depended on her as an anchor? She must be, how could she not be aware?

"Between you and me, I find flesh and bone is better on the talons. I just pretty much pounded it until I collapsed last night."

"Between you and me, flesh and bone is better for more than just talons." She flashed a grin in turn no hints of her thoughts in her expression.

"Careful, I might take you up on that offer sooner than you're ready for."

"I've been itching for a cure for this hangover all morning." She hummed pleasantly for the first time all morning.

A lustful and hungry glance danced in his eyes before he averted his eyes, noting that Haze had been rather...quiet. Smirking in a mischievous manner, Vellios then turned to comment on it, "As humans say it, Haze does the cat got your tongue? You've been rather quiet over there."

"Well... What else can I say? I still feel like shit, so... If y'all wanna go back in the ship and fuck or whatever, it's cool. I'll pack up the stuff out here. Maybe I'll take my shit elsewhere to clean."

Hazan shrugged, noting the clear intentions between the two.

She glanced at him her mandibles flickering a little then noted, "What's the hurry, I've still the rest of my Viper to clean." She shrugged, then hummed happily. "Vellios can hang out here with us while we carry on. The hermit needs to be aired out before I drag him back behind doors."

"There's another thing that also needs sorted before play time. Mainly first an apology to Tanya and likely an explanation for my reaction. Serena thinks it will help but considering everything, I don't think any sort of words from me will make a difference," Vellios left off the reason why his statement to prevent too gloomy of a topic from raising up.

He shrugged again and made his way back to his crate. In a few smooth motions he assembled and stowed his shotgun on his back plate, then he moved to the case.

"You're going to make me break out the Turian brandy stash I have, aren't you?" Vellios hollered back at Haze's retreating back.

Before his talons touched the case's clasps, he stopped.

"...a glass or two wouldn't hurt."

"On one condition, you enjoy yourself and get the hell out of your mood. I want to enjoy your company and honestly, you might be more fun being drunk right now," Vellios teased then ducked into the ship quickly.

"It isn't even midday..." Dex commented drily.

"I need something to numb the pain and I don't like drinking alone!" came the holler back from Vellios.

Hazan nodded to himself silently and reached for the clasps on his case. They popped open with a soft snap, and from within the padded case, he pulled out an old, aged sniper rifle. The scratched, worn Mantis rifle with bipod sat in Hazan's hands like it belonged there, and as he set it down on his crate, he smiled wistfully.

"Besides, I still need to clean this old thing."

"A Mantis, nice. Powerful rifle. Used it a few times now but much prefer the Viper. A bit of a sniper in your Omega years...?" Dex left the question hanging.

"You read the message about Omega I sent, right? This thing is the reason why I sent that message." He hefted the sniper rifle in his hands and held it out. From that distance, the small notches on the side of the rifle's body were visible.

"I see. We'll get you sorted, I can hack a bounty board. Luck permitting of course things go well. Put that past bit of your life behind you." Dex said sincerely. "Until then you'll be stuck with us."

"It's not the bounty board I'm concerned with, Dex. It's the people behind it that I'm concerned about. That's why I still have this thing. Y'know how Omega is, run on reputation as much as it runs on credits."

Hazan replaced the sniper rifle on the crate and got to work stripping it down for cleaning.

"I figure, if I can keep this rifle running for just a bit longer, I can show those people who's the real boss. Maybe find out who killed her and attacked my crew."

She pointed at him, scooping up some small parts from the trigger mechanism. "This sounds like it's more than clearing your name, I heard a her in there. I just hope this doesn't evolve past clearing your name and some revenge. We’re not equipped for taking on Omega or its problems."

"I'd much rather stay below the radar as we are now, instead of dodging other crews hunting for your ass."

"You...do have a point."

"Of course I do. It goes without saying that you'd lose whatever support from the crew if you wanted to take things further." She paused then amended, "You'd lose whatever support I was willing to give."

“But it isn't just about the bounty hunters. It's about finding out who ambushed my team, and who killed...her.”

He sighed and emptied his glass into his gob, wincing at the burn of the brandy as it traveled to his stomach. The pain from Omega was still fresh in his mind, though it'd been months since.

”When I was still working in Omega I was with a smaller team of mercenaries. Called ourselves the Valiants, after our team leader’s nickname. There was...a lady there that I fell in love with. This turian, Jori was her name.

We were on a job, our team, and we were finishing up and prepping for extraction. Then a team of bounty hunters hit us. They were gunning for me, and in the fight, Jori got killed. That's why I'm here. I couldn't take any more so I upped stakes and left.

I figure...if I find the people who put up the bounty board, I'll find the assholes who killed Jori.”

She paused over the mechanism, her sub vocals rumbled with thought. “I suppose using the bounty board to find the asshole who pulled the trigger would be one method. I just... I don’t want a mission to put us right in anyone’s crosshairs. Our crew barely has it’s legs under it yet.”

Vellios had heard quite a bit of the conversation between Haze and Dex when he arrived back holding his last bottle of Turian Brandy in his talon and three glasses. His eyes shifted to Haze then back to Dex, absorbing the information before he spoke, "Uh, well that’s a hell of an insight on you then Haze. However, I can understand well why you did it as I sort of did it myself after Armis and my children died. It’s funny how the past can come up and bite you in the carapace when you least expect it, isn’t it?”

His family. What the hell did Galentos say about them again? She thought squeezing her eyes shut, Fucking hangover…! Armis must of been his wife, and his kids… they were all slaughtered. Right. Fuck. She felt a pang of guilt for knowing that. Fucking Galentos, the jealous prick.

Plopping down on a stump, the black turian paused to think a moment.

“Back to the bounty thing, I want to point out something: you do realize, when they find out the bounty has been removed... they will simply put up another right? We can't keep tabs all the time on the bounty board without them tracing that and I don’t think you want history to repeat until after we find this bastard,” Vellios continued, his mouth turned up into a wickedly delighted grin at his wheels churning in his head, “I suggest we shoot the bounty computer with a specialized VI virus, one that can detect select words in a single document and immediately delete it. Use your name and aliases for those keywords, it would likely prevent anything associated with you from being seen."

Determining that Haze needed a drink, he turned to the other two turians, "Dex, a shot for you while Haze and I will take a full glass." He said while he filled up the two glasses fully then partly for Dex, even before she had the chance to protest. He then passed the brandy to each individual.

Hazan accepted the glass of brandy and smiled. He took a rather long, slow sip and huffed softly.

"Mmm...I guess that could work. But avenging Jori is my top priority when I return to Omega. "

“One thing at a time. You go from one job to the next, when you reach the end… you’ll be unprepared for the end game then lose it all. A lesson I learned very well.” Vellios assured.

The headache behind her eyes throbbed at the sight and smell of the brandy. "It's not even midday yet. Whatever, one shot." She repeated herself then shot it back, her sub vocals rumbling discomfort. "That is a good idea, Vellios. I can get through the security and plant the VI. There'll be some planning to do."

She tapped the bottom of her chin.

"I have my moments," Vellios smirked at Dex and then turned toward Haze, his expression dropped back into a somber one.

Vellios' talons swirled the brandy a bit in thought before he spoke outloud to the gray Turian's earlier comment, "I'm not in a hurry to accomplish this mission, no offense Haze. For at least one big 'ol reason: If we fuck it up and are discovered, every merc from Omega to only the spirits know will be on our ass. Not to mention what other trouble we might attract from the stunt It will take time to plan out until we're ready to strike."

He took a swig from his glass of brandy and sighed softly.

"Thanks...guys. I think, I think maybe I'll get over it soon enough. If you wanted to stay out here, 'n keep me company or something before you bang, it's cool. My rifle's gonna take a while to clean and test."

Taking a sip himself, Vellios then commented, "Good, if you don't get better than I'll give my therapist's extranet number through you'll have to share her time with Khosin."

"I'm not too much in a hurry and I need time to figure out how to phrase things. Tanya doesn't want any history that explains shit, but I doubt a quick, forced apology would make it clear I'm sincere," His talon reached back to itch his neck while he then mumbled something softly, "It's times like this that the Haides was so much easier to survive. I just had to make it to the next day without dying."

Dex kept her eyes on the rifle running a rag down the length of it, thinking on what Vellios had said. Noting he kept in touch with a therapist enough to suggest Khosin talk to them, which was a little relief but she wondered if Khosin opened his mouth. What did he say to Vellios to prompt a discussion on therapy? It made her nervous that he could have possibly told someone else, but that someone being Vellios didn't worry her too much at the moment. She'd have to check in with Khosin the next chance she got. Judging by the turian's nonchalant approach he still doesn't seem to know much about the batarian's horrible past.

At least not all the details.

Vellios at the moment seemed more focused on wanting to make a proper apology to Tanya.

Even distracted by her thoughts she picked up on his mumbling to reply, "Now I know you're exaggerating. A hard apology isn't comparable to life on Haides. You know you fucked up, listen to what she has to say and actually work on ensuring you don't do something like that again. It's way more simple than you're making it out to be, Vellios." Dex said evenly, again keeping her eyes on her rifle while her thoughts carried on. "Trust me, Tanya wants to put that shit to rest as much as you do."

"Not really, Dex. After years of it, some things are easier than others especially when you excelled at them," Vellios stated, his tone more serious than before, as he set his cup aside.

"Tanya could explain but I can't fully understand or empathize with her feelings, no matter how hard I force myself to. Usually, I tend to redirect people like Khosin, or her, to people who can help them better," He chuckled a bit at the thought, "Does that help in seeing why it's so hard? The funny part, I know I'm broken and fully accept it because the other choice is to be miserable."

She shook her head at him, "Sounds more like you have a difficult time empathizing than you do apologizing. The important part is that you actually listen to what she has to say and don't do that shit again. Like I said, simple and straightforward."

"That's the main issue. If it came down to her life and hurting her pride, or whatever, I wouldn't think twice because I rather her pissed and breathing than happy and dead," Vellios admitted.

"You do understand why she's mad? If you at least get that the apology will ring true." Dex asked, hoping she wouldn't have to spell it out for him.

"She assumed I was amused by her situation if I'm understanding it right," Vellios stated, despite the fact he was more amused by the fact Tanya jumped to conclusions and would've kicked herself over it later. However, that didn't seem to matter and people could believe what they wanted of him.

Dex sighed. Close enough?

"Close enough. She'll tell you when you talk to her. Sure, you can use sex as incentive to getting the apology done and out of the way." Dex shrugged putting the rag aside and assembling the clean trigger mechanism. It really wasn't her place to step between Vellios and Tanya, they were adults and would figure it out one way or another.

"I respect you more than that. Besides, pain clears my crest better and," He lifted up his talons, "I've already done that. Personally, I don't think it will matter if I did or not as she might not move on from it. A fact that I have to accept either way and I'm stumped on."

She nodded putting the trigger aside and picking up the rifle. The three of them lulled into a sort of comfortable silence. Haze and Dex carried on with their cleaning.

Dex glanced at Haze studying his tattoos for once, the bright white tattoos spiking and circling from his eyes down to his chin. Palaven, homeworld definitely. She couldn't quite place where exactly. Typically not traditional tattoos unlike Vellios. She glanced over to him and noted the icy blue marks under his eyes and along his mandibles.

"So, Haze. Can't quite place your tattoos. Palaven...right?"

"Palaven, yeah. Family tats."

Hazan looked up from his sniper rifle at Dex, racking the heat sink into place while he slowly reassembled it.

"Born on Palaven, trained there too. Next thing you know, I'm on a shuttle out to the family business on the Citadel. Dad and his siblings ran a private security firm there that aliased with C-Sec. I worked there for a few years until I got swamped with paperwork. That's when I jumped ship. Well, figuratively."

He shrugged and attached his viewfinder onto the top of the rifle. The two devices clicked, and the rifle powered up as it began syncing with his visor.

"After that I ran to Omega, and that's been my home, up until the Borealis happened."

"I like to think I'm pretty good at guessing. Can usually spot homeworlders light years away. If not by the obvious tattoos." She said placing the trigger mechanism back in its place. She tapped her mandible for emphasis. "Want to venture a guess where I'm from?"

"I'd bet 100 credits you can't guess without a hint." She grinned. "Either of you." She couldn't contain the hum of smugness.

"Hmm... Those spirals definitely aren't Palaven... Omega? Or...were you spaceborn?"

Vellios paused in his drinking, which he had resumed while the other two cleaned their equipment, and leaned forward. His eyes studied her spiraling tattoos but for a moment couldn't place them. They were similar to Syberus', with the strange pattern darting over the head sides and mandibles, but appeared more uniform in design over all.

"How many hints and questions do we get?" Vellios asked calmly, then added, "Because I can eliminate about ten planets at least from what I recall. It's not Pavalen or Omega as Haze pointed out. Not Gothis, Bostra, Gelix, Thracia, Rocam, Chatti, Citadel, or Digeris."

"One hint. Definitely not spaceborn, a colony infamous for it's 'Quiet Rebellion.' That's almost too big of a hint, but nobody is usually able to guess it without a hint. I'll be a little lenient because I like you two. The 100 credits are still up for grabs for who can guess right." She hummed, cocky.

"You realise I don't know every colony planet, despite raiding a good portion of them," Vellios replied then continued to think.

"You two are smart, if you use your heads you might get it."

"Haze, how many more colonies can you list? I have about five more then I'm out."

"Uh... Pheiros? Magna? Epyrus? Taetrus? Syglar? Altakiril?"

"Well, about three of my guesses were eliminated out of those," Vellios commented, then thought back to the 314 Relay incident. One of the older turians had given a history lesson over his planet as Vellios struggled to recall the name.

She pointed at Haze, "Narrow down those six, you're really close." She playfully elbowed Vellios.

"I try to forget it honest and wasn't much for learning the names of places for obvious reasons," The male turian commented when he let her nudge him, his arm reached to rub the still tender area and tried not to recall the hallucination he had earlier over it. He didn't like lingering reminders of the future, "I knew an old turian during the 314 Relay Incident that had unique tattoos. Though they were hard to identify the shape since he had a close encounter with a few blades and gun barrels. He was from Taetrus."

She turned to Haze playing it cool, not giving away a single thing, "How about you? What's your guess?"

"Uh....Magna or Syglar?"

She paused for dramatic effect then opened her omnitool up, transferring the credits to Vellios.

"Taetrus. Quiet Rebellion is referring to the ongoing Separatists movement against the Hierarchy. You were getting close there, Haze." She said.

"You could keep the credits, if you do me a favor instead," Vellios stated, his talons already flickering the account amount back with a small message: ‘After Tanya, find and distract me.’ He smirked letting her guess how to distract him as he knew it could go either way and in the end, forgetting it was best. "Think that's possible?"

"Aww damn. I was just guessing blindly, really."

Hazan shrugged and finished off his glass of brandy, motioning to Vel with the empty glass.

"Pass the bottle? I need another hit."

She read the message across her omnitool her cocky grin subtly shifting her sub vocals quieting. The playful flirting earlier held nothing to the intensity in her eyes at that second. She sent her omnitool to sleep, her mandibles flickered.

"It's alright, Haze. It's a weird colony, fiercely proud of their roots in rebellion."

"Don't drown in it," Vellios requested then passed the bottle, nearly empty between the three of them. Enjoying the vibration that danced across Dex's sub cords, his mandibles wiggled in eagerness and knowing something waited to take his mind off of it.

He leaned into listen to Dex speak about her planet, "I'm surprised considering it failed and I don't think everyone was proud. The vet I talked about had roots that died during that time and seemed to be trying to distancing himself a bit. Though I could see he wasn't good at it."

"It's not really encouraged as you guys can imagine. Separatism has a lot of..." She struggled to find the appropriate words, she held no attachments to it any longer and to explain it wasn't something she did often if at all. "Idealistic notions to put it simply. I don't count myself as 'fiercely proud.' At least not anymore." She slowly put the rest of her Viper back together. "Grew out of it."

"So...you're not a separatist, are you? I was never really too deep into that whole conflict. Busy trying to eke out a living on Omega to pay attention to otherworldly politics and stuff." He accepted the bottle and poured himself another glass, setting down the bottle on the nearby crate.

"Not anymore. It's not just politics when you're in the thick of it. The idealism is poisonous. Sucks you in and you start thinking completely different. Always, always us versus them." Dex replied a little solemn.

Vellios looked back at Dex and commented something he knew well, "I wouldn't count on that, hun. Some things you never outgrow, even when you really try."

Dex scoffed at that, "It's pretty fucking easy to outgrow it when you hate both sides for what they did to-" She stopped herself feeling the anger boiling, her feelings of betrayal came roaring back with ferocity. She took a deep breath in through her nose, managing to stop before going into a full rant.

"There are somethings you can outgrow. Apologies, just remembered I have some calls to make. I gotta go."

She stood abruptly and began storing her M97 away, needing to make a quick exit. Dex thought she could talk about the Separatists, trust that she had put it behind her. Clearly, not the case. Vellios was right to some degree, she hadn't outgrown her spite or rebellious leanings. She definitely wasn't ready to share anything else. She hoped she'd never have to.

Vellios tilted his head, and curved his eyebrow upward in a 'point made' gesture at Dex's retreating backside. His eyes naturally watched her move as it lured his attention in, even when lacking any type of sway or seductive allure, quietly loving the way she moved. Only the knowledge of knowing she had retreated from his correct statement had spoiled it. The turian cautiously wondered if she was going to still meet him after Tanya or leave him hanging after his comment.

"Thanks Haze for keeping me company while we cleaned. I'll see you around. We're leaving bright and early tomorrow so you better be there." She pointed at the navigator. "You." She said to Vellios.

She turned to face Vellios her organic talon brushing up under his chin tipping his head up, "Good luck with the apology, if you're lucky we might make it behind bedroom doors. No guarantees."

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Hellis}

Featuring... @VATROU

---

Time: Present Day - Evening
Location: Lost Haven, Maine

It took little time to get organized. After the meeting had taken place The Ambassador and Silence parted to gather their resources and information. The Ambassador sent her air sprites into Lost Haven’s docks and train yards, looking for traces of magic. Flitting about Syndicate controlled territory, looking for who wasn’t meant to be there. Anything that could give them direction. While Silence had his own spies to move. They provided the human intuition, the hunch that air sprites lacked to follow through on.

Due largely to combined efforts, they were able to find armed humans (with no ties or affiliations to the Syndicate) moving mysterious crates in one of Lost Haven’s train yards. It warranted their investigation.

A text from Silence brought the likes of The Ambassador, Bach and Mandate to the location. The air sprites in the area honed into her arrival greeting her with their most recent reports. They arrived by portal well out of sight from any prying eyes. The sprites led her to where Silence was safely observing the handful of people using the bordering brush lines to his advantage.. The train yard generally deserted, in between train arrivals save for the one currently being unloaded by their targets.

“Bonsoir, Monsieur.” She greeted him. The Ambassador settled on a more discreet outfit for the evening’s work. A sleeveless black top, with dark blue capris that clung to her, her waist was cinched with a leather belt. On her feet were black running shoes. She tied her blue hair away with a thick black hair band. Her purse was slung around her shoulder, where it always sat.

“Ambassador.” Silence nodded curtly as she walked within view, though he made an unimpressive sight. He was simply dressed in a navy-blue tracksuit, top and bottom, and he had two firearms tucked into the back of his waistband. Other than that, his pale face showed no real signs of his usual subtle alterations, he was about as natural as he ever was, which was never the whole picture.

“And this would be another of your ‘friends’ I presume?” Uncertainty had crept its way into the thief’s heart, but it was only barely perceptible in the slight intonation he put on ‘friend’. He was of course referring to the large, inhuman, golem behind Odette. He made no mention of Bach, giving little indication that he had even spotted the angry little imp letting his emotions betray him beside the Ambassador, where he was throwing a serious glare Silence’s way.

Mandate was behind her, the necklace removed to reveal the golem in her true mercurial form. The Ambassador had informed the golem of the night’s work ahead of them, who they would be working with and what to expect. Odette knew Mandate would provide the much needed muscle in case they ran into anyone above their individual skillsets. Bach stood just to the right of Odette, glowering at the sight of Silence. The night they had returned from the meeting dissolved in an explosive argument over what had happened. Bach went straight from dislike into absolute loathing of Silence.

Mandate peered down upon Silence from where she stood, head tilted ever so slightly as she considered the curious human. To her, the question seemed obvious. She spoke without a single movement of her fake mouth, her smile remaining firmly affixed. ”I’d like to think I’m friends with Miss Ambassador.” Her voice was rather upbeat, its strange tones harmonious. She was quite certain of it, truthfully. It made sense.

“Silence, this is Mandate. She is one of my friends. Mandate I’d like you to meet Silence. An associate.” Odette gestured to him, noting his tracksuit with a level of distaste. “She will be providing a level of muscle, Mandate please be sure to protect Silence as well from bodily harm.”

“Yes, Miss Ambassador.” Mandate replied cheerfully, nodding and straightening up.

“I, see.” Silence had some experience with the strangeness of the Ambassador’s pawns before now, so he was able to put the oddity of a talking golem behind him for the time being and focus on the business at hand. He gestured to the men and women down in the train yard, only barely visible through the rather thick underbrush clinging to the sides of the railyard, illuminated by torch-light and rail-side lamps. There were a few of them, some armed, others not so visibly.

“We have over a dozen armed men and women down there, but I find myself more concerned about what weapons they may hide from sight. Are any of those, down below, Vampires like we spoke about, Ms Ambassador?”

She stepped up beside him and observed them, none were displaying inhuman strength nor speed. From a distance she couldn’t quite see their eye colour or note their skin tones. The air sprites in the air around them whispered their answers in her ear. “No. They’re human, armed as you said. My sprites confirmed they are alive and have not displayed any powers.”

“Well, that makes things far easier. I would like to suggest we do something cunning, but frankly, I doubt even people of their calibre would fail to recognise something was off if I attempted to make contact with them. So, unless you have any better ideas, Ms Ambassador, I was going to go down there and eliminate them.

From her little clutch purse she pulled her magical tome free, flipping to her illusionary spells. “I agree a quick decisive removal will be best. I’ll start with a distraction, a basic but small crowd centric illusion spell. Please note that it will not last forever, it’ll give us a few minutes at best. Mandate, please focus on eliminating a fair few of them, save a couple to question when all is said and done. Hurt them a little if need be. Do not damage the product they are moving.” She replied stopping on a page. A spell she used once before but amplified to target multiple individuals.

Mandate straightened up further at the mention of elimination. Her piercing gaze switched from the men in question to the Ambassador, then back again. ”Is there anyone in particular you’d like alive, Miss Ambassador?” Her tone was shamelessly anticipatory. Her time with the Ambassador was wonderful, but the lack of ‘aggressive investigation’ had been itching at her mind.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully noting the older man giving orders, pointing where to pack the crates. She saw a couple truck drivers nervously at the wheel with radios close at hand. She pointed to the man giving orders and then the drivers. “Keep those ones alive for us to talk to, the drivers and the man in charge. Kill everyone else.”

Odette began chanting the spell, long uninterrupted Words of Power spoken in French. The faintest glimmers of over a dozen silver needles appeared around her. At the sorceress’s command she sent the needles forward, aiming directly for their heads.

Over a dozen men worked to get everything unloaded, from Mandrake to Phoenix Ashes and all in between according to what the buyers purchased before hand. One of the men moving crates was fresh as a guy directed him and made small talk. “So you see, we ship these out from Vegas and load them up onto waiting trucks, the buyers plan what they want ahead of time and they funnel cash for the purchase. Just make sure not to break anything, we’d have to refund and set up another trade.”

“I don’t get it why not have a market place or some such.”

“That comes after, once we get a foothold in a city. Until then we ship these out like so. We deal with local markets and shops directly, and show them we’re better stocked and priced than their own suppliers.”

“Suppose that makes sense, but what’s with all the security. Not like anyone’s gonna knock us over for Mandrake root.”

“Be surprised kid, even this weird stuff can fetch a nice bit gotta know who to sell it too. Besides this is Lost Haven, Cowl’s in charge of this town. Might not like anyone else doing business. Now let’s get this unloaded quickly, so we can let our shippers know the freight is loaded up.”

Assorted crates were sifted from the train and hoisted away as multiples of people both men and women carried off the usually large balsa wood crates, each having a three man crew heaving the crates onto the white truck. As a crate fell on top of Button Man's foot causing him to yell in pain but for the man who dropped the crate he heard nothing as his fingers went numb his hands failing to keep their grip and among the other Button Men similar effects had started taking place bouts of dizziness confusion and loss of equilibrium as they stumbled and fell. Two seemed rather unaffected as one grabbed his rifle and readied for an attack.

Odette clicked her heels automatically Bach grabbed her shoulder shrinking in size quickly, she closed the spell book and hugged it. The beginnings of a ward wrapped around her at the string of chanting, “Protéger mon corps, protéger mon esprit, protéger mes vertus.” On each round of chanting the ward wrapped about her in more layers, to the untrained eye while the spell worked it obscured the air around the sorceress.

Protect my body, protect my mind, protect my virtue.

When the spell was complete she said, “Mandate if you’d be so kind to begin, Silence and I will be behind you.”

“It seems like a few may still have their faculties, be mindful of their fire.” Silence left them with a final warning, and with that the thief disappeared into the brush, his dark-blue clothing working to his advantage as the night seemed to envelop him wholly. It would seem as if he wanted to be about as far away as possible from his less than stealthy allies when bullets started flying in their direction.

”Of course, Miss Ambassador.” Mandate tore her gaze away from the curious sight of the illusion at work, nodding politely to the Ambassador and observing as Silence seemingly disappeared. Humming lowly, the golem lowered herself into a starting position of some sort. She went hurtling forward with barely any warning, launching herself into a sprint through the thick underbrush. Unnervingly silent, save for the pounding of her feet.

She hit the ground in the train yard at full speed, and did not slow down. Her charge was directed towards the man who had been giving orders, her crimson gaze intent. If anyone knew what the Ambassador needed to know, it would probably be the human giving orders.

The sight of a charging Silver Behemoth had him scrambling for his gun, his limbs gave way and his knees fell upon the ground as gravel dug into them. The gun seemed to stretch with every movement as he fought against whatever this force was, it was then a blonde haired man stepped between them teeth shining as he lifted his shirt yelling.”I’M FIRE’N MAH LASER!” To which anyone who could hear him automatically cringed. Even his own Boss felt disgusted as he watched the beam smack into the Silverish Creature; to no effect. As the blonde haired man stood there as if he just realized how out of his league he truly was.

Mandate did not slow down, even with the man’s strange beam dancing across her form in vain, unable to cancel her forward movement. She did not spare the time to wonder upon his strange choice of battle cries, either; the time for such things came later, after he was dead. The humans had apparently spotted her, but the gap was already mostly closed, so what did it matter? The golem was a sleek, mercurial wall in stature, and her stride allowed her to eat up distance quickly. The sprint simply made that even quicker, but it was delayed somewhat by Mandate stooping as she ran, slowing marginally as an idea pinged her consciousness.

Mandate’s fingers slid through the loose stones beneath her feet without losing any speed, lifting away with a handful of the rocks in question. Her stride halted with a sudden stomp of her foot, her great mass only sliding marginally as she twisted her body and drew the handful back. ”I hit harder!” She doubted that announcing attacks was any form of tradition, but she was eager to participate.

Even with only a small fraction of the golem’s strength, the rocks were launched at the strange human like a spray of oversized, stone buckshot pellets aimed for his upper body. His eyes widened as the stone shotgun tore through his torso separating his body from the gem that was embedded into his stomach which probably was the source of his powers. The gem fell among the stones and pebbles while the other Button Man had reached for his gun narrowly missing a good chunk of buckshot as his head pulled back up just as it tore through Blondie and missed his ear.

The sorceress wasn’t far behind the golem, she lept from the bush line high above the trees and landing deftly on top of the train box car digging into her pocket she loosely threw a handful of seeds. Words of power gave life to the seeds, plant life sprouting instantly. The walls of tree trunks blocked the entrance of the car separating a few of the men and women from their exit. Gun shots echoed and ricocheted, terrified by losing their senses. Trapped within. She crouched low hand splayed against the boxcar. The symbol of a yew tree glowed blue.

“Piéger.” She spoke. The trap ensnared everyone inside, sapping their life away. Desiccating their bodies within seconds. In her hand the energy gathered in a little ball of light.

Mandate found herself quite satisfied with the results of her throw, as spontaneous as the idea had been. So satisfied, in fact, that she forewent hurrying at a sprint as she had before. Instead, the golem jogged forward, her eyes lingering on her handiwork before she found herself nearing the downed man. Her jog became a hurried stride, unconcerned with the supposed threat presented by armed humans. They were non-entities, except in the way that their fire might endanger someone more important, such as Miss Ambassador.

Her weight doubled without a single outward indicator, then did so again, her every step suddenly sounding significantly heavier as she approached. She reached out, intending to simply bring her full weight down upon one of the man’s legs whilst grabbing him by the collar. He did not need to be able to walk to talk, she reasoned. She paused for a moment as her foot began to crash down, wavering on one foot, before slowly easing it down. She pushed, listening and waiting patiently for the feel of breaking bone.

“The fuck wrong with you!!?” As the Button Man screamed in pain with the weight of the Golem crushing his femur. “Get off me you goddamn tin can. Get off, I’ll talk I’ll talk!”

Silence ran out of the bushes further down the track, keeping his stature low as bullets whizzed through the air after ricocheting wildly off the golem. His services weren’t really required for this, but the other two were getting a bit carried away with the wanton murder, and he did want some questions answered. Not wholly trusting his allies for such a delicate task, he crept around the field of battle, keeping his back to a train-carriage as he spied two men shaking off the disorientation of the Ambassador’s spells. They were isolated, but armed. They also cursed with a west coast Nevada slang which told him they were members of Barron’s organisation and not buyer security. He sprinted towards them, using the cacophony of sound emanating from the golem’s thunderous advance through the trainyard as cover until he was close enough to ensure success. Then, with a horrible casualness for arguably the most human among the little trio of mass-murdering robbers, he pulled a silenced pistol and fired it into the bigger man’s knee-cap from the side, downing him for a swift execution. The second turned his head in time, but not his weapon, as Silence pistol-whipped him flat across the face, and taking advantage of his stagger, he stepped in close enough to punch the man in the wrist. The unfortunate guy dropped his weapon with a grunt, his limb suddenly deadened by the impact from Silence’s metal-clad knuckles. He looked up in time to see Silence’s pistol aimed directly at his head.

“Get on your knees.” His hands raised as he tried to visualize a way out of this, though with his weapon gone and a gun firmly pointed at his head it was either survival or death. While gunfire erupted around them it had quickly begun to die down already, he saw others being dispatched before they could fight against whatever force this was. He saw his Boss under the foot of a massive silver machine or at least he thought it was mechanical, his hand reached for his phone and he knew his boss was sending an alert, wouldn’t do any good now but Barron should know soon enough shit went down and that’s all that mattered.

Mandate had already turned her attention away by the time the man made his move, his leg broken beneath her foot and his form tossed a few feet to the side by a gentle motion of her arm. Incapacitated as he was, she felt no particular concern towards anything the man attempted. She paused to stoop down, retrieving the man’s gun as bullets ricocheted off of her impenetrable form. They were such curious things, guns. Familiarity hung heavily around them, as if they were an old companion.

Shrugging, Mandate squeezed until the weapon crumpled, allowing it to fall from her hands as she resumed her charge for the nearest man capable of firing properly.

Odette took a few steps back from the edge of the boxcar noting Mandate’s success and assuming Silence found his own success, out of sight. The sound of gunfire was terribly loud, the stray bullets caught her off guard, flinching away, her wards protecting her. She could see the spell’s effects waning, the gunfire less erratic. Their fear giving way to desperate push against their assailants.

They took their aim away from the clearly bulletproof golem and aimed for Odette, the human woman exposed above them. The concentrated fire took more layers of her ward forcing her off the boxcar to take shelter on the other side. She took several steps back away from the train, knowing her next objective would be to stop the trucks from leaving.

It would simply mean having the angle right to clear the train and the men on the other side. Odette eye balled the boxcar. “Another hail of gunfire could deplete your ward.” Bach advised.

“They won’t be expecting me to reappear.” Odette reassured him, he was expecting her to reappear as herself. That would be silly.

She began casting her spell, a perfect projection of herself shimmered to life before her. Her eyes shut with concentration visualizing the projection moving as she would. The projection of herself moved to jump back on top of the boxcar, reappearing above their enemies. Odette left the projection where she was, crouched in a position as if to shield herself. The very real sorceress moved around the car to the next, squeezing through the links making a run for the truck.

As the drivers began to regain more of their senses, they frantically grabbed their keys attempting to shove them into the tiny slot with utmost care. Or with the care a magically drunken driver could prepare for. Beginning to turn on the engine he saw something in his mirror, a quick blur of a woman.

She casted a levitation spell strong enough to lift the truck several feet into the air, her arms guiding the truck higher. It was firmly under her control. The truck lifted higher, the tires well above her head nearly at 7 feet. It took effort to keep the truck floating, her brow furrowed. Chanting, “Soulever, soulever, soulever, soulever.”

Bach vaulted off her shoulder returning to his normal size to perform the same spell, holding it in place. Odette backed away then made a simple hop onto the side of the lifted truck. Pulling the door open and surprising the driver inside.

“We, ain’t with them? Yeah. That’s what I’m going with. I just drive the truck.” The driver said as the truck floated in midair and while Odette dealt with the driver the rest of Barron’s men had been all but subdued. They were not ready for the trio of powerhouses that came at them. No amount of guns on the planet could prepare them.

Odette didn’t respond, her expression stern to the driver’s comments. His hands were on the wheel, hanging on. More seeds appeared in her hand, she threw them with Words of Power, the seeds quickly transforming into thick plant matter restraints tying his hands to the wheel. With his hands restrained she rooted through his pockets finding a small pistol, safety on and loaded with maybe five rounds and a knife. Tossing them out the open driver’s window. Bach took the signal, lowering the truck back to the ground. Odette removed the keys from the ignition then pocketed them.

She exited the truck out the passenger’s side jogging around to the driver’s side, she scooped up the weapons as well. Pulling out the driver, noting the gunfire had slowed to a stop. She restrained him again at his ankles and wrists using another levitation spell to drag him along back to Mandate and Silence.

The Pole had followed his captive’s eyes as he looked desperately over at the scene of the Golem standing on a fallen man. Silence’s own eyes narrowed as the man knelt to the ground.

“That man over there is your superior, then?” He asked suddenly and without warning, allowing his captive’s face to say more than he ever would. With a grim nod, Silence waited for the fighting to stop and with the last pops of gunfire fading from his ears he waved his captive on over to his boss. “Crawl, do as I say or this will be your last day on Earth.” The man had no real choice but to acquiesce, as Silence urged him on over to Mandate and her captive, sparing a moment to glance at the Ambassador as she floated another captive over. It was good to have spares, in case any examples had to be made.

Mandate, for her part, had taken to the act of rampaging amongst human beings like a fish to familiar waters. The only marks upon her body came in the form of dust clinging to the joints of her arms, and she returned to her captive with a casual stride once the gunfire had been entirely subdued. She watched with her strange form of a smile as the Ambassador approached, shifting in her position with a smoothness that ran contrary to her inorganic form.

Odette approached the others carefully stepping over the strewn bodies of Mandate’s handiwork, glancing at their captives. Silence held his own at gunpoint while Mandate had ruined the man’s leg. All three of captives showing different signs of pain and terror. Flicking her wrist speaking to her captive “On your knees.” Lowering him to the blood soaked ground, he bent his knees accordingly.

So looked to Silence then Mandate, she nodded, “Line them up and let’s begin.”

“Now, you may be wondering why you are alive, and I am here to tell you that you may not be for long. It would be best if you consider this an interview, of sorts. You are being interviewed to see if you are capable of delivering a message for us back to your superior, and if you get the job, you get to live.” Silence paced before the three stricken criminals. “First question, and I will know if you are lying, who do you work for?”

“I work for a blood thirsty Garbage Pail Kid. And my leg is totally fuck. You silver tin can shit heap.” He yelled, intending to piss off Silence with sarcasm.

“I work for Liberty and Freedom!”

“I, don’t work for for these guys. I work for the buyer's man.”

As the three individuals gave their respective responses, the man who had a broken leg due to Mandate spat a bit of blood towards the Mercury Golem. “That’s what I think of your questions.”

“Don’t antagonize them man, look I work for the Market, a place in Lost Haven that sells magical items. That’s it I swear I just drive the trucks. Just let me go.” He said crying out as honestly as he could, while it was true he didn’t work for Barron directly the three before him likely would not believe him.

Mandate responded to the man’s remark by calmly placing her foot down upon the patch of spittle and blood, grinding it downwards until the gravel made some rather unsightly noises below her mercurial foot. She did not ask questions, however, nor truly speak at all; that was more of the Ambassador’s area of expertise, she reasoned.

“Very defiant, and foolish. Liberty and Freedom, hmm?” Silence pulled the trigger, and a heavy pop filled the air as his suppressed pistol launched a slug directly into the joker’s knee-cap. Silence had a poor sense of humour. “I have heard that is quite the excruciating place to be shot, the knee, as I am sure you can now attest. Trust me when I say that while death is almost always unpleasant, a painful death is even more so. Fuck with me again and I promise you the latter.” Silence calmly ignored the buyer’s man, he would be dealt with later, but for now he was of no great concern. It was the man who referred to his boss as a blood thirsty garbage pail that caught his attention, there was fear there, fear of a boss with a very long arm. Yet with Mandate hovering over his crushed leg, it would only be a matter of time before the unfortunate fellow reconsidered who he was more afraid of. Self preservation always wins out with the rational sort. Raising his voice a little to be heard over the grunts and cries of the knee-shot man, Silence directed his next question at the man who called Mandate a silver can, whatever the fuck that meant. “Now, you can continue to answer my questions like a dead man walking, or you can answer me truthfully and avoid wasting the valuable time of my supernatural friends and I, who will otherwise be forced to torture you quite extensively. It is really up to you.” Silence hovered next to the boss, half crouched, his pistol aimed suggestively at the man’s unblemished knee-cap.

Odette watched him work standing just a few feet away coldly glaring at each captive in turn, folding her arms. Her brow furrowed at the vulgar language. It really was no point to make a fuss about it, it simply irked her. It lent well to maintaining a rather sinister veneer but for added effect she called on the Arcane Stream her body outlined in blue light, the blood puddles at her feet turning to ice. Expending a little energy to hold the image.

Silence took point on talking with the captives, he was demonstrating complete control. Inspiring no small amounts of fear. She reasoned if she were to step in now it would split the focus, break the narrative. It was a rather new experience, rarely did she find herself steeped in the grit of The Shroud Syndicate’s work. Smuggling was simple, straight forward. She went down the list of ways to clean up the bodies. Burning, burial, or weighed down into Lost Haven’s bay…? The smell of death was permeating the air already.

Bach stood beside her, he commented dryly in French. “I suppose Silence is good for something, even though we did all the heavy lifting.

Odette turned her icy glance on him before turning back to the captives. The message was clear for him to shut his mouth. He shrugged giving her an impish grin.

As the Joker cursed and spat obscenities in pain, the Garbage Pail guy who currently hated Mandate for her obsessive use of force spoke. “It don’t matter what you do to us, you are wholly fuck. Once the Boss hears bout this he’ll show you pain. He flayed a man alive, and when he started dying he kept his heart goin. So we don’t fear you. We’ll die soon enough from our wounds, or from his bullets.” He said pointing to Silence. “Besides I think the Boss would like to see you all. Barron. Yeah. He’d love to pay you all back for the kind treatment you’ve given us.”

“Barron, is it? He will never find us, he probably will not even find you, not unless you go back to him on your knees and pray for forgiveness. Maybe he will even spare you if you can be useful and deliver our message. Besides, it is not him you should be afraid of right now, it is us. Ms A, if you would be so kind as to inflict some incredibly potent torture upon this screaming fool here, I am sure this man would find it quite educational.” Silence let the Ambassador do her work, the defiant boss still needed softening up for now.

She nodded solemnly, “I suppose there is no way around it.” She stood before the supervisor, she noted. “Is that all the Barron has done? Flayed someone alive? I had some expectations, but that is quite mundane.”

“Mandate, would you be a dear and hold him in place? I’m afraid he’ll be thrashing and flailing about.”

“Of course, Miss A!” chirped the towering golem, pleased to be of use once more. It struck her as impolite to use such a name for Miss Ambassador, but Mr. Silence surely had a reason. Stooping down, Mandate grabbed onto the front of the man’s clothes, tugging him upwards with no regard for his comfort. He was manipulated as easily as an unresisting pillow, his back pinned to her front and his arms pinned at his sides by a sort of reverse-bearhug. Standing at her full height left his feet hanging a good distance off of the ground, helpless in her grasp.

“Thank you.” She said approaching the man with her hands outstretched her fingers resting on his temple lightly. Making direct eye contact. “This will not be pleasant.”

She began the spell, a particularly direct illusion. One that wasn’t nearly as effective unless she had complete access. In the state the man was in now, he could do little to defend himself from her. Long uninterrupted lines of French began softly as a whisper building in volume. Volume largely meant to unnerve her target and those around her. Blue light surrounded her hands, seeping into the man’s head giving her access to his mind, breaking down his flimsy willpower. His emotions were erratic, the pain from his broken leg, fear for his life… it was as easy to read as an open book.

Such was an ordinary man.

Her chanting paused rarely for breath. She went straight for his subconscious dredging up the man’s worst nightmares, painting a very vivid world for his eyes only. The chanting changed to a new repetitive spell, tricking his mind into a fight or flight mode. The muscles along his arms and legs went taut with strain, eventually spasming out of control. Screams built, pouring out of him. Odette worked for several minutes creating his own tailored nightmare scape before stepping away allowing the spell to run it’s course.

“Give him a couple more minutes and we will see how he feels.” Odette raised her voice over the sound of his screams.

There were delays between the audible responses the other two men displayed and the sheer inhuman torture the other received. But the Ambassador aroused quite the response when their silence finally broke. “The fuck was that bitch?”

“Oh fuck oh fuck. We’re doomed, I hate you mafia types. I really do. I should’ve called in sick.”

Odette pulled her lip up in disgust, “Disgusting, foul mouthed grunts. Appreciate your moments of sanity, for you two may as well be next. The Barron only wishes to command powers such as mine. Flaying is the least of your worries.”

She gestured to the supervisor.

“And now realisation sets in, if you tell me what I want to know you may die horribly, may, yet should you continue to refuse me?” Silence shrugged. “Then we will definitely kill you, horribly, in such a fashion as you just witnessed. Now, what do you say. Feel like talking?”

“Yeah, fuck you. I’ll tell you what you want, but I hope you choke on dick.” There was visible fear on his face, he tried to pull a facade of control despite being powerless. Soon they’d learn what they desired. All the while, Mandate’s grip ever so slightly tightened on the supervisor. Her smile was gone.

“Where is your shipping manifest?”

The man told him, and Odette quickly retrieved it. She flipped through a clipboard skimming the inventory looking for something more substantial than base ingredients for potion brewing, ritual scrolls, and spell tomes. It was generally very basic.

The supervisor was in the middle of telling Silence to go fuck himself and giving out information on what he knew about supernatural ingredient procurement in equal measure when Odette chimed in.

Interrupting the supervisor she said, “Rather base line delivery. If it is not you shipping artefacts then where might we find more valuable product?”

“Vegas, bitch. It’s where Barron keeps his best stuff. You want more details, find someone in Vegas.”

“Enough swearing and petty defiance, you can do better than that. Where exactly did you pick up the ingredients, where is this warehouse located?”

“You have been there then, tell me, what is their security like? Every man and woman you have seen in the place and their capabilities, tell me all you know.” Silence waved at his companions to back off for a moment, and he let the lid off his aura just a tad. Always bubbling to be free, to be downright disruptive, his debilitating psionic powers filled a five foot area around him, dousing the man, weakening his ability to reason. There was awash of thoughts his mind began to falter and spill out. As Silence listened he began to blurt out more and more things, his cat Percy, the various warehouses in Vegas, the fact there’s a hub of dispatchers who manage shipments and deliveries.

“Very helpful, to a point. I believe I am done here.” Silence turned as if to leave, his face thoughtful.

Keeping her expression stone cold, her fury building at the casually crude insults. “If that's all we need to know, please Silence take a few steps back with me. We should be clear.” Beckoning Silence to join her.

“Mandate, kill all three of them. Those two,” She pointed to the supervisor and the man Silence captured, glaring with certain fury “violently please. The truck driver make his death-”

“That will not be necessary.” Silence had already lifted his pistol and turned at the waist, firing a silenced round into the unfortunate supervisor’s head. Two more followed, placed directly through the forehead of each captive, in one swift move the criminal had executed all three. “I would rather not have their deaths be any crueler than necessary, now.” He explained, tucking his pistol away with a weary sigh. Bloody business, that’s what good honest thievery had become.

Odette shrugged, throwing up her hands, “Whatever helps you to sleep at night, Silence. What should we do about the mess? I’m not impartial to burial, it is a simple matter for me to open the ground several feet deep.”

“We want to send a message to this Barron, leave the corpses where they lie to tell their own stories.”

What once was blank space upon Mandate’s features became her equivalent of a pout, her head tilting as she extended the body away from her with one hand. Her gazed traveled from it, held in front of her like a kitten, to Mr. Silence. ”That was rude.” she chided softly, dropping the body and seemingly forgetting about it from there.

“Indeed he was. Let's head to Las Vegas, we still maintain the element of surprise.” Odette said, walking clear of the bodies beginning to craft her portal. Blue light illuminating her hands, the bright rift of the arcane stream opening before her.

“I will meet you in Vegas, keep your phone handy.” Silence said, turning away from the villainous duo. There was no way he was going through another of the Ambassador’s portals again, not so long as he had any other choice.

Her door formed and the portal was complete, she replied, “Don’t be ridiculous, the portal is taking us directly to the city. Why bother wasting time and money on a plane ticket?”

“Because experience has taught me something, Ms Ambassador, do not trust what you do not understand.” And with that, the criminal had no further words to say and walked briskly out of earshot. Disappearing in the foliage surrounding the train tracks.

Mandate watched the strange gentleman disappear in silence. ”I trust you, Miss Ambassador.” she offered.

She rolled her eyes at his back. Then replied to Mandate her tone considerably softer “Trust is earned, to be sure. You have earned my trust as well, Mandate. You did well today.” Opening the door she led her way through, stepping into the city of light and sin.

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

@DearTrickster Sorry this is so late (and I didn't clarify enough in my previous post), but by path I more meant bridge. Like it doesn't go down. It's flat before them.

@Baklava

Oh okay I can clarify that in my post with a quick edit. :)

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

So does Noi get to know what the prize in his cereal was?

@jasonwolf

His prize was a choking hazard. <3

Mass Effect: Borealis

<Snipped quote by DearTrickster>

Yaaaay!

We may now claim the title of 'Oldest living ME RP!'

And if we can't

We'll simply kill all the ones ahead of us.

@Rtron

Aaaaayyyy someone's thinkin ahead~

Mass Effect: Borealis

Also, happy birthday Mass Effect: Borealis! This shit turned a year old today!!

Mass Effect: Borealis

We should be done the girls night out part 2 collab here soon. Introducing Firuzeh officially :>