"Sure about that?...", asked quietly said to the knight who said that they will meet the Queen immediately with a tone of surprise. For such an esteemed monarch, ruling over the greatest city in all of the dead land of Deadwood, she sure didn't mind having an audience with such a scruffy, dirty, and blood stained lot. Either she was fine with facing herself with such a humble group, or she was just in a hurry to get this thing over with.
Or she's really the mad queen everyone says she is.
...
"... What did you all come here for? Riches, safety... but why? Down there, money is truly worthless when you get down to it."
"Well, Your Majesty...", Azariah respectfully bowed to the queen, though his short height meant that he was just making himself even tinier in the sight of the glorious queen of Exusia. "Money is still of value in the Karlezek Enclaves, the realm which I come from, but I do not intend to return to the lands below, as the Deadwood, save for this flying city of magic and perhaps my homeland, is a cesspool of endless chaos and discord. But if I were to choose between the underground dungeons of my people or this citadel in the sky, I'd rather choose to live in the one that is quite literally detached from the troubles of the world below us. And of course, the riches that were promised would be good, if I were to stay in this flying city."
He neglected to mention that he was trying to avoid responsibility back in his home land... because that would just be an embarassing detail to share. Maybe to one of these new companions to his later on, but the queen didn't need to know that.
Alan's eyes were steeled the moment he confirmed Finnbar was still on their side. He stayed silent until the folks he didn't know that were with him took the elevator upwards. As soon as he confirmed they were out of sight, he immediately jumped towards his cells bars to get as close to the other side - and to his friend - as possible, before whispering.
"Any chance you can make some mini-portal or something to get this damn thing off?" Alan simply asked.
Finbarr smirked as Alan asked if he could use a portal of some kind to remove the magic dampening collar that was stopping Alan from simply melting the bars with his own magical abilities. Poor Alan. "Huh, don't be ridiculous.", Finbarr replied, pulling out the unignited hilt of one of his plasma blades out of his black cloak, winking at Alan as he went. "A portal won't cut through that... but this will."
The Timespace magician glanced at the black and gold hilt of his weapon. It had been a while since he had a good look at it; there were writings emblazed on the surface, and the symbol of the Celtic Cross right at the center. On a vertical pattern were these words, "Is é an bua atá againn"... meaning "Vengeance will be ours" in old Irish Gaelic. He was taught the ancient tongue by his parents back in Titan...
Finbarr brushed those memories aside, and smiled back at Alan. "Don't worry, friend. It will all be alright... remember this bad boy?", Finbarr asked, waving the hilt at him, though he did so with his back facing the camera that he spotted in the corner of the cellblock.
Finbarr then leaned closer to the cell, whispering, "Just gotta wait for the cyber lady to confirm that she has the thing we needed, then I'm busting you out. Okay?"
...
Once he had confirmation that Laurey had the Realist and their mission accomplished, Finbarr would ignite the blade, and with one swift motion, slash the bars unto two sets of halves. In that moment, he would also return to his regular appearance; a 5'8", black haired boy with a thing for black clothing. "Here." Finbarr adjusted the length of the blade to that of a knife. "Stand still, I'm taking the bloody thing off!"
Status to Humans: The Kanarusii are members of the Alien Coalition, and as such, are considered part of the 'Alien Menace'. They're viewed as enemies of mankind, though the Kanarusii say that they merely defend themselves. On an individual level, the Kanarusii could be friendly to humans that do not provoke them, or they can be relentlessly hostile to the point of attacking humans on sight. One can never be sure.
Life expectancy: 250 solar rotations on average without augmentations; could reach up to 500 years when enhanced through technological or magical ways.
Genders: Male and Female.
Full Description:
Kanarusii are, for the lack of a better description, reminiscent of the dragons of ancient human mythology. They are a reptilian race of quadrapeds, with the front limbs of some subspecies being integrated wings like that of a bat, the others have none at all. Usually, they have a slender, sinewy frame, measuring at 7-12 feet long and 2-4 feet tall excluding the head and wings (if they have those). Kanarusii have sharp, serrated teeth, as they evolved from apex predators in their Homeworld. The entire race is instinctively capable of shapeshifting, though they are incapable of transforming into a different magical race, such as the Kaisoken or Zvevd. They most often shapeshift into a vaguely humanoid version of themselves in order to work tools and machinery.
Though the subspecies of Kanarusii are diverse, they typically fall into one of two groups; winged, or wingless. Flight capable Kanarusii, known as the Feldraken, are often wielders of pyrokinesis and aerokinesis. The wingless ones, known as the Sahrkosi, are typically electrokinetic, and hydrokinetic. They begin manifesting magic at age 20, and it usually takes decades for them to have fine tuned control over their abilities; it is noted that they are most in tune with World Magic. Usually, they're weaker than Star Marines and Kaisoken in terms of power output, but a well trained Kanarusian is still dangerous nonetheless.
Kanarusii live in a variety of environments, which has influenced the divergence of their race into different sub-species. Feldrakens live on the tops of mountains, cliffsides, and volcanoes, while the Sahrkosi inhabit the oceans, rivers, and lakes.
-------------------------------------------
Type of society: The Kanarusians are a loosely united feudal confederation, divided into the Nine Houses that hold power over the systems. The Nine Houses are, respectively, Loken, Astoria, Shtarbane, Fenruss, Karadras, Targon, Aoshen, Zeran, and Vulcaria. The most powerful of the Houses are Vulcaria (a Feldraken House) and Aoshen (a Sahrkosi House), who rule over the two core systems of the Kanarusian Confederacy. Kanarus itself is ruled by the High Lords; the council to which the Houses answer.
Technological advancement: Despite appearances, Kanarusians are technologically advanced due to being uplifted by another alien race two millennia prior to current events, which most often manifests in their cybernetic augmentations; some of them are half mechanical. However, Kanarusians with cybernetics render themselves unable to shapeshift. --------------------------------------------
Miscellaneous: There are rumours that their shapeshifting allows them to have children with other races, though this has never been proven...
"Not today, devil. Not today!" Azariah slashed at one of the Clansmen with his sword, cleanly cutting the man's head off even as he screamed a bellowing shriek of rage at the sight of his comrades getting a chunk of his neck torn off by the furious magishell as if it was having a hearty meal. The miniature magishell, who had slaughtered at least four of the Clansmen since the beginning of the whole scuffle with the band of Boneclansmen, using its blood soaked claws and grinding jaws filled with serrated teeth, jumping into their backs and sides like a little metal devil from hell.
As Hazel's barrier began to form out of her magic, Azariah held out a hand for his little metallic pet to come forward, whispering commands to it in Karlezekian. "Ah, my love, what can I ever do without you and your equally bloodthirsty sister?" Even though the thing didn't even have nerves to feel being touched with, it responded to its master's caressing of its head, as if it could actually feel anything despite being no more than an empty shell animated with magic and given a silent, animalistic sentience.
In yet another display of his... bond with the machine of death and slaughter, he kept speaking to it, even as the circle of flames engulfed their surroundings before they were finally, finally teleported to the floating city of Exusia. "Yes, yes, I know, Blackfang, I'll clean your claws when we're done. Ah- no, you can't eat, you literally can't..."
...
When the Exusians finally brought the party up to Exusia, Azariah was... amazed. Exusia was far beyond what he had imagined; the only thing he could think of that might equal its current splendor would be the old capital of Gran Karlezen, which had been abandoned by what few inhabitants it still had after the Cataclysm. But... This... It was literally heaven. Karlezek holds were claustrophobic due to being underground, but the glory of Exusia, with all its magic and wealth, was still something greater.
Magic, especially. Azariah looked over at the runes that lined the... street? Magic circle they were in, some which he understood, some which he did not.
The Exusians were still quite adamant about them giving up anything that might be used to harm the Queen... though the Goliath and the Xsus... Ji- whatever the insect was called were probably just as dangerous without weapons. Oh well.
"We did say that we accepted these terms earlier, so it's only fair." No it's not. He let the still bloodstained magishell land on the ground, speaking an incantation that 'put it to sleep'. "Careful with the magishell, folks." Azariah motioned at his walking death pet while locking eyes at at least two of the guards. "It's one of a kind."
Eleazar could only chuckle at Christian's succint appreciation of the grilled meats that he and Spike had been cooking up in the party. They were the best grillers in all of Rosefell, and for good reason. "Why, I learned from the best." Eleazar winked in response, sniffing at the barbeque as he did. He was, if anyone knew about it, referring to his father, who was a token dad that liked to grilled in the backyard every week. Those in Rosefell that had been to his house would know the smell of barbeque wafting through the air as his ever so hospitable Pops cooked up a meal for visitors-
"Alessia, bloody hell damn it, you took all the ketchup?" Eleazar sighed, looking over towards his sister, who had a mischievous smirk on her face. Christian had ketchup and mustard and all the other condiments provided, but he hadn't noticed that the bottled he had been using to apply the red tomato paste had suddenly disappeared.
"You got me." Alessia promptly returned the ones she took so stealthily. "I was just borrowing for a moment, though."
Of course you are, you just want to troll me that much...
"Anyway, where were we?" Eleazar flipped a burger patty, letting it simmer over the heat of the grill. Then Cade came over and asked Spike for a burger with, quote, 'everything'. What did he mean, anyway? Was the burgee going to have a patty, hotdog, sausage, and steak all inside?"All kinds of meat or all kinds of condiments or both?" Eleazar simply asked, making a burger for the Liberty guy that Cade just blew smoke on. "Because if that's the case... Spikey here might have a hard time making it, you know, fit."
Grisha Blackmore
Cough
Grisha, sadly, was not truly fond of parties; at least not of this variety. For one, drugs, alcohol, and more drugs flowed like rivers from the mountains; were he be caught by his parents mingling with such seemingly unsavory characters, he was in for a long lecture about the dangers of narcotics and alcoholism... which would last up to two hours at a time. And there'd be the two of them, right there, lecturing the same things over and over again...
"I'm going to enjoy this." Grisha told this to himself, convincing his stubborn mind to be put on the path of trying to get to know who their new schoolmates are going to be.
Speaking of which... Rosefell... A school for the less fortunate folk of society. Not that he discriminates... It's just that those tended to be where the 'bad apples' collect; nevermind those rich kids in Liberty that don't attend a single class and still pass because their parents are filthy rich. He just hopes that he'll meet some good people now-
Cough. Some scruffy bastard literally just blew smoke on his face. SMOKE. And FACE. In his book of life, those things must never come together under any circumstances. Geisha visibly winced and waved away the smoke with his hand, annoyed at the stench of... what is this? Is this weed smoke or tobacco smoke? Definitely tobacco. Weed was tolerable. This? Absolutely not.
It took everything he had not to go on to tell the guy not to blow smoke on people's faces; for all he knew, this could devolve into a brawl or something, and that is not something good for a get to know party. Instead, he pretended to ignore the smoke that just got blown on his face, and approached the grill, quietly asking for a sausage. Luckily, Christian and Ty were there for him to talk with... and then there were the boys from Rosefell, who were grilling on the grill.
"Hello, Chris. Hello, Ty. And hello to... you. You guys seem to already know each other. Bother to introduce me to this master grillers, Chris, Ty? Mmm?"
In a matter of seconds, the young adventurer had made himself a target as several clansmen shifted their bloodlust towards the boy, throwing bone, stone and bronze-tipped implements alike alike from a greater distance.
Azariah being such a small lad, was a rather difficult target to pinpoint, but in these cramped conditions, the accuracy of the Clansmens' javelins would be somewhat greater than, say, the open field or the desert dunes. He had managed to hear the angry proclamation of the one that looked like a leader of the Clansmen; a rather tall man adorned by numerous bone implements hanging all over his clothes. Azariah would have thought that this person was a shaman or a witch doctor of some kind, but the hatred of the Clansmen towards magic lent that notion little credence. He could be merely a warrior of greater skill than the rest.
Azariah ducked, taking hold of the clansman that his mechanical minion had murderded with such chill precision a few moments earlier, hoisting the wet, bloody corpse as a makeshift human shield to protect himself from the incoming projectiles. These were not steel tipped spears, and as such, would not be so good at penetrating a human body and then another behind it, as they wouldn't be as heavy. It wasn't like these were paragons of forging and smithing anyway; they were crude implements that barbarian tribes in a desert cobbled together. One of the bronze tipped javelins, however, narrowly struck his hand, instead grazing his sleeve to leave a small cut. The wound stung, but he was not in mortal danger; at least not yet. With the attention of the clansmen directed towards him, it won't be long before more of them decide to throw spears at him, and that would a terrible thing, as there weren't so many corpses at hand to use as shields.
The rest of the Bonesclanmen were surrounding her, and she didn't know who was gonna attack first. They probably saw her display of raw strength and are... hesitant. However, it wouldn't be long before they realize that they had the number advantage. The first thing that came to mind was never show any hesitation or fear or else it would be suicide (as she learned from the arena).
Not keen on losing someone he had just met, Azariah threw the magishell towards one of the clansmen, a ball of steel and death careening towards the Clansman like a star crossed meteor. It struck him at the face, a pair of claws quite literally ripping his head into several bloody, still pulsating pieces of brain matter and bone. The slaughtered clansman fell backwards, his head rendered practically nonexistent. It was really gross.
The magishell would, at Azariah's command, spring towards the next clansman, blood stained claws and teeth bared. It was hungry for death and destruction, and the clansmen served as objects of its silent wrath.
"You good?" Azariah drew his sword, though he still winced from the cut in his arm. "By the Maker, how many of them are here?!"
Klein is quite tall at 6'2". He has a lanky frame, fair skin, and brown eyes.
-------------------------
Important items:
- Laminated picture of his late squad - Omni-Tool - Cane (pretends to have a bad leg) - Glasses (for simple aesthetic) - Light Body Armor - Diary - Necklace with a cross
Weapons:
Avtonat Kalashnikova 89 - A fully automatic assault rifle that fires bolts of plasma. It could be charged with any source of heat; as such, its battery could be replenished by something as simple as a bonfire.
Revolving Blade Swords: A pair of short chainswords with teeth augmented with extreme heat. Effective against armor. Spell List:
Shadowspawn Conjuration (Underworld/Mind): Klein has the ability to summon up to six monstrous creatures out of the fears of non-magical folk within 20 meters. These can vary from simple feared animals such as spiders and dogs to seemingly incomprehensible monstrosities; whatever it is that these non-magic individuals see in their nightmares. They all seem to have little to no durability, as they are easy to dispatch with conventional weaponry; they are, however, quickly replaced if people stay within range. They never seem to get bigger than seven feet tall, and almost always try to assume a humanoid form.
Umbrakinesis (Underworld): Klein is able to gather shadows in order to darken out his surroundings in a radius of five meters, or create a blind spot around himself that absorbs all light. Non-magical light sources are unable to penetrate darkness created by his umbrakinesis.
Necro-Memorial (Underworld/Mind): Klein is capable of drawing out the memories of a corpse, as long as it has sufficient brain matter left.
Shadowform (Underworld/Change): Klein is able to transform into a living shadow, allowing him to meld into the shadows, be immune against non-magical weaponry, and fly at a speed of 40 km/h. This state lasts for up to 5 seconds at a time.
Memory Manipulation (Mind): Klein is able to manipulate the memory of someone he is in physical contact with, most usually by putting his hand on their forehead for at least six seconds.
Mirage (Mind): A favored tactic, Klein has the ability to create illusions in a radius of ten feet around himself. He could disguise himself as a tree, or hide other people around him. Mirage can still be countered by thermal vision and High magic sense.
Character Traits:
Angel of Death: Klein is rather proficient with the weapons he has, as the majority of his magic are not truly offensive in nature. He's a duelist with his chainswords and a well trained shooter as well.
Mind of Darkness: As one who knows the dark more than most, Klein has no fear of things such as jumpscares, monstrous looking creatures; anything that appears to come from a nightmare. At best, he would have a neutral expression when faced with the most horrendous looking things in the universe.
-------------------------
Short Bio: Klein Harris comes from a colony etched into the innards of Ceres, one of the largest asteroids in the asteroid belt of the Solar System. He was born into a rather poor mining family in the asteroid colony, the youngest of five children. They lived in the deepest parts of the massive rock that they were born in, and toiled day and night in the mining operations all over the asteroid belt as crewmen or pilots of the mining ships that sailed amongst the sea of rocks, extracting precious metals that only made the Ascendancy rich while they, the poor masses, remained small and weak. They have a terrible existence right unto this day.
Klein, however, was not destined to live in such terrible conditions; at the very least, he wasn't supposed to. He was quite intelligent academically, and when one of the more well off friends of his mother came in for a little visit all the way from Mars, she looked upon how the youngest child of these desperate asteroid miners got the highest grades in his class. At age 15, Klein was slated to be sent to Mars to attend a private school… and hopefully help get his family out of their terrible existence and end the undying cycle of poverty.
These dreams, however, would be shattered when men in masks and black grabbed him off the streets of Cerespont. He awoke strapped to a table, alien dust and other impossible substances being pumped into his body along with hundreds of other kids.
He was now a Star Marine, gifted with terrible powers of darkness and death. The Ascendancy then shoved him and his fellow young warriors into the fray of war against the alien coalition, breaking them for all time. Klein and his newfound allies would commit terrible atrocities and crimes of war; all under the orders of the institution that had no care for their welfare. They were just tools; tools to be used and discarded once they had no more worth.
The throes of battle would continue until the final confrontation in Proxima, where most of the Star Marines were captured. In the hour right before the battle, Klein fled, deserting the army in a desperate and foolhardy attempt to find his way back home.
Instead, what he would find was Crowley, and the vicious Squad 0. Some of them wished to kill him then and there, but Crowley overruled them, stating that his set of magic and skills would be very useful in being a mole. Under the threat of death, Klein Harris would be an unwitting pawn of Crowley, forced to do whatever the sadistic boy wishes in exchange for a safe passage back to the Asteroid Belt…
"Hello there... looks like we got a lively one here, eh?" Finbarr bent one of his knees in front of Alan's cell, still looking right at the Star Marine that ha been one of his comrades since before the disastrous Battle of Proxima. Alan was... well, a little beaten up, but his angry scowling and accent were far too recognizable for Finbarr not to know that this was really him. Not that he had forgotten his face anyway; Finbarr remembers every single one of them, the faced of those that had fallen in battle being etched into his memory even more than those that have yet to be slain in the field of battle. Now that he had confirmed that two Star Marines were here, there was just no way he'd leave them here. No bloody way in all the nine circles of hell and the infinite corners of the grand universe is he gonna leave this friends.
Still, Laurey was already in the process of extracting the reliance. They had to get the AI and these two out soon, before any surprises pop up out of nowhere and ruin their day... and get them all killed in their first mission. The Ascendancy was, after all, merciless in their vengeance. Plus... Alan and Maria just be yearning to get out of here. Of course they are.
Finbarr winked back at Alan, indicating that he had not turned back to the Ascendancy and betrayed everyone else; rather, he was working undercover. Rescuing them makes things a little more complicated, but that doesn't matter as long as they are safe.
"Here goes nothing..."
With Laurey and Jan at the block above them, and Milliard below, this is going to quite the gamble. Nevertheless, though Alan had a magic inhibiting collar, he did not have chains stopping him from moving; he could have melted the bars himself if not for the damn thing.
Finbarr took another good look at the ceiling. One camera on each hallway. Hmmmm...
Once they have confirmation that Laurey had the Realist, he will open a portal in Alan's cell, and get him the hell out of there. Nothing can go wrong with that, right?
Klein is quite tall at 6'2". He has a lanky frame, fair skin, and brown eyes. -------------------------
Important items:
Laminated picture of his late squad Omni-Tool Cane (pretends to have a bad leg) Glasses (for simple aesthetic) Light Body Armor Diary Necklace with a cross
Weapons:
Avtonat Kalashnikova 89 - A fully automatic assault rifle that fires bolts of plasma. It could be charged with any source of heat; as such, its battery could be replenished by something as simple as a bonfire.
Revolving Blade Swords: A pair of short chainswords with teeth augmented with extreme heat. Effective against armor. Spell List:
Shadowspawn Conjuration (Underworld/Mind): Klein has the ability to summon up to six monstrous creatures out of the fears of non-magical folk within 20 meters. These can vary from simple feared animals such as spiders and dogs to seemingly incomprehensible monstrosities; whatever it is that these non-magic individuals see in their nightmares. They all seem to have little to no durability, as they are easy to dispatch with conventional weaponry; they are, however, quickly replaced if people stay within range. They never seem to get bigger than seven feet tall, and almost always try to assume a humanoid form.
Umbrakinesis (Underworld): Klein is able to gather shadows in order to darken out his surroundings in a radius of five meters, or create a blind spot around himself that absorbs all light. Non-magical light sources are unable to penetrate darkness created by his umbrakinesis.
Necro-Memorial (Underworld/Mind): Klein is capable of drawing out the memories of a corpse, as long as it has sufficient brain matter left.
Shadowform (Underworld/Change): Klein is able to transform into a living shadow, allowing him to meld into the shadows, be immune against non-magical weaponry, and fly at a speed of 40 km/h. This state lasts for up to 5 seconds at a time.
Memory Manipulation (Mind): Klein is able to manipulate the memory of someone he is in physical contact with, most usually by putting his hand on their forehead for at least six seconds.
Mirage (Mind): A favoured tactic, Klein has the ability to create illusions in a radius of ten feet around himself. He could disguise himself as a tree, or hide other people around him. Mirage can still be countered by thermal vision and High magic sense. Character Traits:
Telepathic Immunity: Being highly proficient in Mind Magic, Klein's mind is like a fortress. It is extremely difficult for telepaths to read his mind; as such, his secrets are safe. Having spent much of his training being assailed by Mind Magic has very much strengthened the mental barriers he has to the point that attempting to read his mind could cause pain if the telepath insists on breaking in.
-------------------------
Short Bio: Klein Harris comes from a colony etched into the innards of Ceres, one of the largest asteroids in the asteroid belt of the Solar System. He was born into a rather poor mining family in the asteroid colony, the youngest of five children. They lived in the deepest parts of the massive rock that they were born in, and toiled day and night in the mining operations all over the asteroid belt as crewmen or pilots of the mining ships that sailed amongst the sea of rocks, extracting precious metals that only made the Ascendancy rich while they, the poor masses, remained small and weak. They have a terrible existence right unto this day.
Klein, however, was not destined to live in such terrible conditions; at the very least, he wasn't supposed to. He was quite intelligent academically, and when one of the more well off friends of his mother came in for a little visit all the way from Mars, she looked upon how the youngest child of these desperate asteroid miners got the highest grades in his class. At age 15, Klein was slated to be sent to Mars to attend a private school… and hopefully help get his family out of their terrible existence and end the undying cycle of poverty.
These dreams, however, would be shattered when men in masks and black grabbed him off the streets of Cerespont. He awoke strapped to a table, alien dust and other impossible substances being pumped into his body along with hundreds of other kids.
He was now a Star Marine, gifted with terrible powers of darkness and death. The Ascendancy then shoved him and his fellow young warriors into the fray of war against the alien coalition, breaking them for all time. Klein and his newfound allies would commit terrible atrocities and crimes of war; all under the orders of the institution that had no care for their welfare. They were just tools; tools to be used and discarded once they had no more worth.
The throes of battle would continue until the final confrontation in Proxima, where most of the Star Marines were captured. In the hour right before the battle, Klein fled, deserting the army in a desperate and foolhardy attempt to find his way back home.
Instead, what he would find was Crowley, and the vicious Squad 0. Some of them wished to kill him then and there, but Crowley overruled them, stating that his set of magic and skills would be very useful in being a mole. Under the threat of death, Klein Harris would be an unwitting pawn of Crowley, forced to do whatever the sadistic boy wishes in exchange for a safe passage back to the Asteroid Belt…
Mikhael nodded in response to Lukas. Lukas had a good sense of administration and leadership; there was no better person to be the one to lead the whole Infirmary thing than him. He was good at leading, instructing, and... well, is not as abrasive to wrongdoers as Mikhael; if Mikhale was the one that was doing the position of being in charge of everything, it probably wouldn't go very well, as he was just so, so strict, just as he was when he was still living amongst his mortal family. "Yes, yes, and yes. I'll get you a list within the next two hours, and then we can run them by Mr. D after we deliberate the whole thing in the next admin meeting. After all, someone's gotta be there as first aid response... and it happens quite often." He was clearly referring to the incidents of people getting knocked off the tower by their opponents; sometimes, they hit their heads, or worse. Luckily, there was no shortage of healers to make sure that no one died or something.
"As for the medicine of the questers, I can make the things that you have spelled out. I believe I still have enough ingredients to make them with... hold on, I'll check..." Mikhael looked down on his i-pad, checking his inventory, which he keeps up to date every time he takes something out or in. "Yup, I can make some more for the quest."
Oh, yeah. The quest. Erin had been accused of stealing the Dove of Aphrodite. What would a daughter of Hades want with the Dove of the Goddess of Love anyway? Stuff just gets weird here in Camp Half Blood.
Now, though, Elias came in, butting. He was looking for Octavia, it seemed. Mikhale couldn't recall what relationship those two had; were they friends or something more? He can't remember anymore.
"Da, Elias. I had spent most of my time today in the laboratory making medicines so... I don't have a good idea either. But as Lukas said, we'll help you take a look around. If that's fine by you, anyway."
Member
RPM
Guardian Angel Haruki
enmuni
Dyelli Beybi
Altered Tundra
PrinceAlexus
