Before Angel could even address Lawrence's astute question regarding their unnecessarily long period in the tanks it seemed he would have to face a most irksome adversary, 'the pissed off viking banshee bitch' as some secretly called the Asylum who was prone to breaking things and limbs. The Silver Reaper however simply settled for 'The Annoying One'.
"No, actually. No ice cream. Lets start with answers, instead. Like, why the fuck did you murder the Ourosboros management? Why the fuck was that Chimera going for specifically you? And what the fuck is the plan for making sure we don't get put at the top of everyone's 'too murder' list?"
The weary Lost Number slowly tilted his face towards the heavens as he remained seated while nurturing his pounding head, yet no absolution came, clearly when he thought this day couldn't get worse some entity out there decided, 'hmm why not'. This was not the first time Angel contemplated why was he the source of the 'Annoying One's' ire? True enough, usually he was the reason behind almost having the two Celtic ladies killed in a horrible fashion, but such things never came to pass.
"I didn't kill the management," Angel replied in weary resignation, knowing if he wouldn't explain the 'Annoying One' would simply continue nagging him. "What would I gain from it? I have enough hounds chasing me, adding others to that list is not wise now is it? Especially when it includes Ourosboros, A.M.R.O and all the Crests." As he spoke, the Lost Number made sure to fix his gaze upon the Celtic Asylum, his tinted spectacles shimmering an eerie silver.
"There was more than one party at Ourosboros. There was us, the Asylums tasked with locating Anya." As soon as Angel finished his sentence his index finger gestured the number one.
"Then there were those that were tasked with disposing the evidence, which was Anya." With that his middle finger joined his index to gesture the number two.
"And finally there was the person who somehow knew we would be in Ourosboros and devised the means to capitalize on the chaos and have me blamed for the deaths of the management, you all were bystander caught amidst a vendetta someone has against me." Once Angel finished, his gaze had shifted to the three fingers raised before him. "Now while it is unfortunate that eventually you maybe hunted to oblivion, such is not the case...presently. Live today and...maybe die tomorrow."
"Big Brother you forgot to answer the question why the Big Rhino thing was focusing on you? Did you do something bad?" Rena, realizing her moment to shine suddenly entered the fray, jumping between Maeve and Angel, twirling between them.
"I didn't forget little one," Angel replied while gently patting the Little Chrono, the kind smile on his face slowly warping to something more sinister as his gaze switched from his partner to the lot of Asylums in front of him. "And yes we did spend a considerable time in the tank." By this point Angel decided it would be most prudent to pretend Maeve was just a part of the wall or furniture and ignore her.
"Shouldn't have stayed that long in the blast radius you bunch a sillies!" Rena suddenly chirped while raising an admonishing finger towards Angel and his cohorts. Her expression a mimicry of Maeve's 'angry face' however Rena could only manage a comically adorable version of it.
"I agree it was not the most wisest of actions to delay our exit, but luckily the Alchemic Poisoning was not as serious as I thought it would be, I apologize for making you worry none the less." Angel's tone had taken a more sober touch despite the slight twitch of his lips that betrayed his submissive act, but then again the Lost Number always enjoyed spoiling the princess.
Rena on the other hand beamed with satisfaction as she continued to 'huff' and place her fists to her hips followed by a nod signifying her scolding would be enough to teach the rowdy bunch of Asylums a lesson.
"We may still experience the affects of Alchemic poisoning, you know the usual. Claustrophobia, Hallucinations, migraines, link disturbances. Oh and since none of us have used Alchemy at all for over a month, you may all also experience extreme Alchemic withdrawal. So you know, the usual. Claustrophobia, hallucinations, migraines and alchemy surges. Now if you all don't mind, I am taking my partner to get some ice-cr.."
"Oh good you all are up!" A stranger's voice casually interrupted the Silver Reaper as a rather tall fellow slowly made his way towards the crowd of re-awakening Asylums. From his stride and general body language it was quite obvious the man considered himself important and the way the others showed him respect also quite possibly signified the man has rank, perhaps a Lost Number. His appearance was all quite standard, traditional A.M.R.O attire, all aside from one oddity.
"What a weirdo..." Rena whispered while standing next to her partner, her eyes staring at the large twelve foot metal ladder strapped to the man's back.
"Yeah.." Angel nods in agreement while strapping his metal coffin onto his back. "Who would use a ladder as a weapon?"
"All of you are officially inducted as A.M.R.O instructors for the next month, your classes start," in that brief pause the man raised his arm to glimpse at his watch. "Now."
As if on que a deafening ring echoed across Innocence signifying the next round of classes.
"The art of seduction," with those final words the Ladder carrying fellow withdrew leaving the Silver Reaper just staring at his back in a strange silence.
"Seduction?" Rena finally broke the awkward silence, confusion showing on her face.
"A ladder?" Angel replied, equally confused.