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...Huh. According to his good friend Google Maps, there was a museum not too far from here. Well, that was as good a place as any to head to first.

@DocRock
While he was standing there, the sight of a man in a trenchcoat and fedora pulled him away from his phone, and for a brief instant, he locked eyes with the man in the weird outfit, before the guy walked away.

Thinking nothing of it, he started to head out of the airport, towards the museum. But before he could leave...

@Anza
"I mean," she wondered aloud, "cancelling it, just like that? So much for a true test of skill and fighting spirit." She paused, yawning. "I guess this whole 'World Warriors' thing isn't such a big deal after all..."

Seriously? Yeah, the preparations with Trion had been a huge pain in the ass, the tournament staff could have definitely handled the announcement better, and he was sure wasn't the only one miffed about wasting several months training for a tournament that never happened...but if a coup really did take place overnight, he could understand why everything panned out this way.

But no. He wasn't going to play Devil's advocate. Nomads were infamous for being ready to throw down at a moment's notice, and with Trion still with security, he was defenseless until he could pick it up. If she challenged him, and he couldn't defend himself, either he tried to take her on and got put in traction, or he backed out and his reputation was ruined. Neither outcome was fun. And that was assuming that she didn't just bum-rush him in response. Or outright kill him on accident with a basic fireball.

So he did the smart thing and kept walking.

As started heading into the airport proper to go grab his bags, he caught sight of the guy again. The way he was going happened to coincide with Trenchcoat Guy's path, so he figured he'd make some small talk while he walked. "Hey," he said as he walked alongside the Mythic (not that he knew that at the time). "Saw you pass by earlier. Sucks that the tournament got called off, huh? You think the rumors about a coup are true?" He noticeably shouldered his backpack as he said that. It was clear there was something a bit bulky in there.

And without further ado, she quickly left her lair, and began heading through the terrain, making a bee line for where the big announcement had just come in, like an actual juggernaut. Hopefully no one got run over by the rapidly moving metal warrior.

Hearing a loud stomping sound, he craned his head and noticed...that. "Uh..." he started, not really expecting that. He turned back to Trenchcoat Guy, asking, "On second thought, do you think we should do something about that random woman charging into the crowd?"




Location: Fresh off the plane at the Zamindawar International Airport, Empire of Zun
Status: Pissed-off, thinking of how to salvage this trip

"Are you serious?!" Victor exclaimed in response to the news, as he stamped his foot in frustration. He had been practicing for weeks to get into the tournament! And paid the exorbitant upfront fee! And he wasn't like other Nomads! Having a drone fight for you in the field meant that you had to carry it with you! You had to transport it, get it past customs, and bring all the expensive repair equipment necessary in-between fights! He had to get the specially-designed armored truck he used as Trion's home base here by ship! HE HAD TO HIRE SECURITY TO MAKE SURE SOME SICKO DIDN'T STEAL IT TO MAKE WEAPONS!

AND AFTER ALL THAT, THEY COULDN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO TELL HIM THE TOURNAMENT WAS OFF UNTIL AFTER HE HAD ARRIVED IN ZUN!?

He clenched his fists as he raged for a moment, and then unclenched them as he took a deep breath and then began to smile a little bit. You know what? He was in a foreign country, at the airport, with plenty of spending money, Trion on standby, surrounded by Nomads he could just hang out with, and he was already prepared to stay here for a few days. Why not turn this into a little vacation?

He pulled out his phone and started looking up nearby points of interest. There had to be something worth checking out here other than the cancelled tournament. A museum, maybe? A nice restaurant? A nearby hotel he could relax in? Hell, he'd settle for a cheap Zunite movie theater if he needed to. At minimum, he wanted something to do before the next flight back to New York departed. Considering the rumors of a coup, he honestly wasn't quite sure if it was a good idea to stay longer than necessary, so the vacation idea was probably out, but at the very least he probably had some time to kill before heading home.

He checked the airport's flight schedules while he was at it. It was a good idea not to miss the return flight if he did decide to head home immediately. The representative's behavior was definitely odd, and the whole thing seemed fishy. As a fledgling Nomad, he could probably investigate, but he'd have to pick up the truck first and check to see if Trion One was in working order....

God, this Nomad stuff was so much more complicated than it seemed from the outside.


@KaiserElectric

Hey, I'm interested, but the Discord link isn't working for me. Do you know why?
@Genon

At the moment we are only accepting Linker characters. If you're interested in apping that, the Discord link can be extended to you.


I'm thinking of a few character ideas. However, I'm having some difficulty figuring out my Psychic Drive. Send me the link.
@KoL
Hi, I'm interested in joining. Apparently there's a Discord? For the life of me, I can't find a link anywhere. Is it invite-only?
Back in New York, Jack had been a night owl, but since he joined MAX FIRE he had learned to adjust a more morning-focused schedule. He wasn't crazy enough to get up at 5AM every day like Victor, but it was still an improvement over spending weekends and breaks waking up at 1PM. Thus, when Jack's alarm rang, he woke up and immediately set about his routine. While some part of him continued to wake up and marvel at the fact that he was going to fight giant monsters today, and the next day, and the next, those thoughts were dashed as he headed to the lounge.

He had spent a good portion of last night at a local arcade, playing some rounds of Galaga, 1943, Final Fight, After Burner, the works. But he also remembered that Corinne had gone to the SAME arcade that SAME night. Apparently there was a Pac-Man contest there. Jack was one of the few people in the world who wasn't really a fan of Pac-Man. He was more of a shooter, beat 'em up, or platformer guy.

Which was why, as he headed down to the lounge, he was flabbergasted to see Corinne not only still in the clothes he had seen her in last night, not only being obscenely loud, but also holding the trophy from the Pac-Man competition. He had left before the contest kicked into high gear (partly to get away from Corinne, because he KNEW that if he revealed his presence to her there, without any other teammates to back him up, he'd regret whatever followed), but he didn't imagine that she'd WIN THE WHOLE THING! Hell, had she even SLEPT since then?! That said, he found her antics sort of endearing at the same time. Perhaps a bit unprofessional, but it wasn't like they were on giant monster duty yet. She could take some time to cut loose. He just hoped that she didn't pop a blood vessel with how high-strung she was.

But whatever. Time for food. Jack eagerly got in line, and when it was his turn to pick, he piled his plate high with calories. Three pancakes with syrup and butter, a spinach/cheese/mushroom omelette, homefries, two beef sausages, a cup of coffee, and a glass of water. This was an ordinary breakfast for him.

He saw Victor and Michel parked at the same table, and decided to head over there. Then he noticed Michel was in a straitjacket. He knew the world was at stake, but the idea of child soldiers still rubbed him the wrong way. Still, it wasn't like complaining to the higher-ups would get him anywhere, and, well, Prometheon was already built. It wasn't like he could just undo that.

So he decided to stay friendly. "Hey guys," he said to the pair as he sat down across from Victor, with his plate piled high with food. He looked to Michel and asked, "Another test?" As was usual, he fidgeted from time to time over the course of the conversation. This time, his feet were shifting under the table, as if unsure where they should go.


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