Miret's fingers found Zarina's and intertwined them. "In my heart, always just for you, luush'elar." She began leading Zarina over to a picnic basket she'd hidden, and she took a moment to extricate it from the bushes. "Work, too, though," she sighed. "Always work, even when I'm on leave."
Unceremoniously yet with incongruous grace, she plopped herself down on the grass and patted a spot beside her. "I forgot the blanket," she remarked sheepishly and, for a moment, there seemed to be something small about her - vulnerable, even - as she looked up at Zarina.
“Well, it's an honour to have your scarce break time dedicated to yours truly.” answered Zarina, choosing to not dwell on either subjects. One made her far too many butterflies and the other forced the dregs of anxiety she bottled up back up.
A seat was taken on the dry grass, announcing the end of Dorrad and the hottest days having yet to come. “Luuchi.” a gentle hand remained over the Yasoi's and a mellifluous voice beckoned Miret's attention. “How are Tyrel and Chad? Without you around ...” then, a light squeeze of the hand. “Are you alright?”
Miret leaned in. "No," she whispered. "They're watching me, so smile as if I've just told you a funny secret."
“Pfft.” Zarina immediately blurted out, even letting a few spittles bombard her unfortunate luush'elar. Bent over as if getting over a flabbergasting joke, she passed her hand over her hair to comb it over her ear. “If you want to talk seriously, I know a few places.” she whispered, eyes narrowed to feign some foxy look, suggesting she had teased or something equally as playful. “Or we can just enjoy.”
Miret forced a blush, for such was her control over her face. "We totally should," she squealed. She pulled back, standing and twirling on the spot. "Just me and you and not a care in the world." She breathed a deep breath in and out, extending a hand. "Let's do it!" For a moment, her eyes told more: "Please," they said, "right now. I really need this."
Zarina sighed, just to put up the facade as the one in control. An attempt at reassurance in a time where many felt like their fates were held in the palms of men they never met. After a tap on her knee she hoisted herself up, reaching for Miret's hand half-way there. “Thanks, love.” a quick pelvis thrust with her hands on the small of her back prompted a light crack of her spine. “You and me. And my hippo. I need to feed it, actually.” she shrugged. “Did I tell you how it almost saved a platoon's life?”
Miret arched an eyebrow in curious amusement. "Oh really?" she chirped, "Do tell." With that, she squeezed Zarina's palm and made to follow her wherever she might lead the pair.
“It put the King of the Sea to sleep.” answered Zarina with a whimsical and dramatic voice. “I would likely not be in one piece either if it weren't for that nascent warrior.”
With a quick glance to both sides, she made both herself and her lover zip through space-time to land in her bedroom. “As comfy as it is, this isn't the place.” the Virangish rushed over to the opened cage where a sleeping house hippo was plucked out to instead sleep in a handbag loaded with fresh lettuce. “Biby - check. Now then, hand!” this time she offered it whilst keeping up with the inherited habit.
This time a portal was opened and ... They were on a mountain and behind them a lonesome cottage. “Welcome to my Dorrad villa.”
Miret's eyes widened and she turned on the spot. "W-where are we?" She sucked in a great big breath of the fresh cold air. "I mean... it's gorgeous!" She seemed, at least momentarily, at ease.
“Sawand.” Zarina smiled cheekily, tugging at her partner's hand as they approached the building. “I'm willing to bet even Tarlon doesn't have folks in this little prize I've won.” and soon they were inside the warm, homely establishment.
Miret twirled about as she followed her luush'elar in. "Sawand," she enthused. "Whew-ee." Her eyes darted one way and then the next, taking in the unique architecture, the cozy homeliness, and Zarina and her odd but adorable little pet. "Was this from the Trials, Luuchii?"
“M'hm.” there was a front desk, unmanned and neat. “Ashok is probably getting provisions.” she mumbled to herself, deciding that waiting was pointless and unhooked one of the keys from the board. “The rooms are great, we get out own fireplace if it gets chilly.” again she held her luush'elar's hand, guiding her to room 3 of the cottage inn.
It was as homely as could be with a double bed, a kitchenette in an adjcent room, proper latrines and an expensive begemot rug. And, of course, the promised fireplace surrounded by stone. Zarina placed her bag on the rocking chair and sat on the bed. “If you need a place to crash, this room is always kept vacant.”
Miret curled up beside her. "It's lovely," she remarked softly, eyes roving about as she snuggled in. There seemed to be something of a wistful air to her. "A place of our - your - own." She smiled at Zarina. "I'm sorry for being gone so suddenly and so long," she sighed. "You deserve better." Her eyes darted about the wonderful room again.
No words came from Zarina, only a blush. And then a tight squeeze of her arm around Miret, tugging her close. “You came back, that's all that matters.” she laid a peck on her luush'elar's forehead. “What's been troubling you, Luuchii?”
"Heh," Miret snorted. "I almost died." She shrugged and shook her head ruefully, cracking a sad little smile. "After all you've seen and been through and all that I have, that doesn't sound like such a big deal, does it?"
She sighed. "I was doomed, to tell you the truth, and so was Chad and so were all of us if Tyrel hadn't arrived." She bit her lower lip. "It got me thinking that, aside from you, what do I have to show for my life? What have I done with it?" She shook her head again, tightly, this time. "I'm tired of war. I wanna take my family, my friends, and you, and... get out." She paused and shrugged, shooting a hopeful glance up at Zarina.
Instead of giving her opinion or pushing back against the negative thoughts plaguing Miret, Zarina merely caressed the distressed woman's head, focusing on the minute little locks of hair to neatly straighten back behind the pointed ear. “Mmm.” was her response to Miret's wants. “But we can't simply abandon our homes, now can we?” her head tilted as she peered down at the curled up Yasoi.
“I'm being called home. Likely because of what's happening in that Coffee Island - Palapar.” lips pursed and hands clenched harder. “It's coming soon. The war. And all I'm worried about, honestly, is the same as you. What have I done of real note in my life? Not because I think I'm going to die ...” although the fear lingered, even as she put on her brave face. “I owe it to my family to fight for them and become something. The same way you owe a lot to your family - Tyrel and Chad.”
Miret managed a quick, nervous smile. "You always know just what to say," she admitted, forcing a deeper breath and then a second. She smiled again, a bit more relaxed this time, but it faded quickly. "Tyrel is being called there too," she offered, "but it's a trap." She shook her head. "She disobeyed orders in Yarsoc and..." Miret trailed off for a moment. "She tore that queen - the one who'd toyed with Chad and I - apart like a plaything."
The Tarlonese shrugged. "She saved us all and won the battle and afterwards -" She rolled her eyes. "- it was retroactively sanctioned." She sat up and crossed her legs, running some fingers thoughtfully through the hair that Zarina had untangled. "You should've heard them: all the soldiers chanting her name." She scowled. "The emperor and the empress and high command will not like it. it is the job of the Avatar of Vyshta to die before her twenty-fifth birthday, and that is only a few years away now." She knit and unknit her fingers nervously. "I don't know what they'll do to my sister there," she mewed, "but it'll be bad - another bad thing in a stupid conflict all about people's pride and money - and I have to find a way to stop it."
Zarina absently stroked Miret's hair and cheek as her worries and recounts were being aired out. Once again, there was only listening with the occasional little affirmative sound to show she was paying attention. A light inhale, stronger than her idle breathing, came in reaction to the revelation of Tyrel's presence in Palapar. A crucial piece of information, should Zarina actually go there.
“You're hurting enough, Luuchy. It shouldn't always be you taking action. It shouldn't be you always getting hurt.” delicate brushes of her thumb over Miret's cheek slowly guided the Yasoi's gaze to Zarina's. “But if you must take on the world itself like a raging bull, then I'll do it with you. At worst, we both die horribly together.” she grinned and chuckled halfheartedly. “But, promise me one thing.” she stared right into Miret's eyes, digging to find her very soul. “No matter what happens with this war, you won't hate me, and I won't hate you.”
Miret was a strong woman, or had always appeared so to the world at large. She had won the Trials of Ersand'Enise. She had ended the tyrannical reign of Queen Talit in Tanso and served with distinction in Yarsoc, all before her twentieth birthday. She had shared herself with many men and some women. She had spoken before crowds of thousands and embraced the empress herself.
To be small, to be vulnerable, was not something that she ever got to do anymore, except with a very precious few she had known since childhood... and Zarina. "Speak for yourself," she snorted weakly. "When I go, it'll be either out of boredom when I'm a thousand year old elder sanguinaire, or in a blaze of glory." She smiled softly, ironically. "You're welcome to join me in either one."
The fact that their countries were enemies was not lost on her either. "I could never hate you," Miret replied softly. "I even love your laundry habits... or how you hog all the covers in bed."
A fire crackled in the hearth, picturesque mountains and blue sky filled the windows, and they were both away from conflict and politics and the worry of what others might think, at least for the time being. Miret leaned in and kissed Zarina. "Most of all, though, I love this."
“I do not!” Zarina protested without any real conviction to be found in her voice. “I just move a lot when sleeping all comfy-like. Doesn't happen often.” with that, she tugged her lover closer as to actually lie down on the guest bed for some much needed cuddles. And then a kiss.
They were to stay like this for a while. Minutes? Hours? They didn't count. This was just too nice. “What's the plan, then? If things do get worse and worse? When do we just ... Stop? Do we even?”
Miret shrugged. "I expect shit'll hit the fan, and a lot of it, and soon." She shrugged weakly. "I expect I'll fight back and I hope you'll join me." She took a deep breath and managed a brave smile. "I already know others who will." She shook her head. "Not gonna let a little cabal of beard-stroking old men tell me what to do my entire life. For now, though," the yasoi concluded, "let's just spend some time. Let's just... love each other."
Zarina flinched. “Why would shit hit a fan?” of all the things Miret had said, this just stuck. “Is that one of your Tarlonese sayings?” a cheeky grin came with the remark. But soon she settled back into a tone-appropriate demeanor. “Of course.” was her answer with conviction, even if she was ignorant to most machinations from the upper echelons of society.
Hours passed. It had been dark out in Sawand for a while now. Zarina had fallen asleep with an ease she hadn't experienced in a long time. The Yasoi she clung to may have had a role to play in that. Very peaceful. It'd be the footsteps outside of the room that woke her up. “Mmmm ...”
It was on the eighteenth day of Miret'thilan'dichora's absence that Zarina made it up to the attic and opened the back window to let some air in. The room had formerly been occupied by Jamboi and, all-too-often, Penny. With the pair having gone on extended leave under circumstances that most whispered had to do with the bulge in the latter's belly, the room had sat more or less empty, though it was still Ashon's space and felt like it.
Perhaps Zarina had needed to take her mind off of the happenings in Mezegol or the summons of her mother or Marceline's ongoing retreat from the world. Maybe she was just cleaning because it needed to be done. the space was getting rather musty. In any event, she pushed open the window and there was a loud 'thump' that made her jump slightly, though she likely never would've admitted such except in the company of her closest friends.
There, handing from a tree and swinging gently back and forth was a gift wrapped with a neat little bow and a somewhat crude but very fetching little smiley face pinned to a clipboard. She recognized the penmanship - or lack thereof - immediately.
Upon seeing what had made flinch, she re-thought the notion of sharing this to even her best of friends. There are enough embarrassments to poke fun out of her anyway. That said, as silly as the situation was, the hanging gift with a message dangling by it. Her first instinct was not to seize it and instead look around her, the outside. Up, down, left, right, even under her feet. She was sure this wasn't there twenty minutes ago when walked home.
At the absence of any presence, Zarina's amber eyes took in the familiar quirks of the message dedicated to her. A simple smile, one that communicated the author without a single word. Another peek of precaution out the window, one dedicated to the tree more than anything - tree people, a hassle - before giving up and taking in the spoils of her discovery.
With the smiley-message put to the side after a quick check, the avaricious part-dragon couldn't help herself. She pulled the ribbon and started to neatly undo the wrapping ... Until five seconds in and she got impatient. To shreds.
Inside was a strand of Osaian ribbonwood, imbued with manas in the manner of Tarlonese woodweaving. It was thin and flexible and slightly translucent. Attached to it was a small note that twirled in the breeze as Zarina held it.
"Dear Luuchii,
I miss you more than words can tell: your cute face and your hidden sweetness and your big ideas, so I begged my aunt to make you this so that we could be together. It's more than just figurative, too! The ribbonwood is a sanguinaire of a plant and it siphons manas. I let it bite me and take some of mine (maybe a fair comeuppance for a bloodsucker - now I know how it feels). They're in there and they can help whatever you use this for. I love you forever and always and I hope it helps you until we can be together again and for long after that.
Love,
Miret.
P.S. Have you done your laundry lately?"
“Nope.”
Zarina answered in yet another show of infantile habits. All with a massive smile that stressed her features, leaving her cheeks reddened from the extertion. The note was clutched close to her chest, her breathing exceptionally tranquil, as she leered at the peculiar plant. A sanguinaire plant, how macabre. And the visceral nature of it piqued curiosity. With some hesitation, she produced a gardening glove from one of the attic boxes she had stored and reached her hand out to the thing. “Now I need to figure out how to not have you eaten by my little feathered and fur babies, Miret.” she chuckled.
The plank was... a plank, having ceased sucking blood around the time it had been felled and carved. There was, fortunately, no danger, though its manas did seem to respond do hers immediately, trying to assimilate her colony, failing, and then settling for communing into it.
It was not too much longer, however, before Zarina found herself in the cellar, rooting around through baskets of unwashed laundry that she'd usually have used magic on or paid a washerwoman to clean. In the very back corner, after lifting one up, she noticed that something about it was 'off'. There was something solid in the middle, thumping around.
After a bit of digging and eventually meeting an anomalous addition in the dirty laundry bin - she did not revel in it whatsoever - Zarina plucked the next step to the treasure hunt. At first she was concerned with touching any of these, and still used her gardening glove. But then she realize this was Miret. Why so much paranoia? Rid of any unnecessary precautions, she extracted the next 'gift'.
There was a head of Eluuxo inside, only, it had a piece of paper with a little angry face pinned to it. "This is to remind you of what we will do when I'm back," the back of the note said. "Look your best for me, hmm?"
It was once again signed 'Miret', only in yasoi script this time.
"P.S. Have you studied for your Tinctures & First Aid exam?"
Zarina could only muster a dull stare at the cabbage. She dreaded the idea of somebody else accidentally stumbling upon it. The vegetable used for aphrodisiacs was quickly hidden away before she heeded the next 'clue.'
“Hah. Never a boring moment with you.”
Next stop was the the study where most of her course work and assignments were kept, including the practice tinctures. She opened one of the cubards under a shelf to find the box full of needles, threads, dried reagents and a few old instruction manuals.
There, she found another note and a smiley face with glasses and buckteeth. "Go to the library and take out that book we talked about, lazy bum. I love you."
Zarina rolled her eyes and capitulated to the mocking smiley's demands. The library was, well, a few feet away. The challenge was to recall what book was mentioned-
“Ah, right.”
The Greedy Dragon's Hoard, a young adult's novel about a dragon with immense wealth, a harem and the most beautiful of beasts. Eventually, one of his concubines burned down his den, and the melted gold melded into his scales, turning him gold and truly immortal. The book is mostly a variety of fables, ending with the dragon being far too heavy to leave his den. As to why they talked about it- Zarina was teasingly compared to the main character for reasons.
Zarina dug for the book and couldn't find it. Miret had returned it a few weeks ago, before leaving. Instead, where the book had been, was another note: "The Grand Library, dork. ♥"
Zarina let out a frustrated sigh. An exaggerated response given she was always smiling.
To the Grand Library! Where she sought the same book.
It was not so very long after that Zarina found herself at the Grand Library. It smelled of books and dust that sparkled in the Dorrad sunlight. Voices echoed up through the foyer and there seemed - always - to be a slight stench of pigeons at the uppermost levels, where they congregated about the great glass dome.
It was on one of these levels that she located her book, but she found more than that. There was a little bottle of plushtail oil behind it, with a little note attached carrying a worried face.
"Dear Zarina,
Please remember to drink this when it's that time of the month. I love you no matter what, but you're better when you're not trying to eat me... well, you know what I mean.
Love,
Miret.
P.S. Have you cleaned the old dragon stables lately?"
Zarina took advantage of the tranquil nature of the library to give herself a brief break. Plushtail in hand, she contemplated whether to still take this game with joy or vexed that her lover hadn't just come and said hello. The thoughtful nature of the gifts and quips made her lean toward the former still.
After a quarter-hour of putting around, she headed to the animal farm - although not before killing two birds with one stone and acquiring meats from the local butcher. Dried, harder meats that were cheaper and quite lean. A bit too lean to be enjoyed by gourmands, anyway. The sack over her shoulder contrasted with her green silks, earning herself a few stares by gossiping lordlings and snarky commoners alike. She'd be lying if she said it didn't affect her a little, but she was keen on feeding her beasts herself.
Her allotted stables held three dragons: Alqasas, Thawra and now Sassy Xiao. The eldest, Alqasas napped and had grown wise to rushing in for food, knowing it was going to come eventually. Thawra was more like an eager dog - always wanting attention, and being hand fed. Being the smaller of the two Froabas, she developed quite the needy tendencies.
Then there was Sassy Xiao, raised wild but still a chick when taken in. She reportedly made daily messes in the brief time it had been housed.
“Oi, sit.” the rambunctious critter nearly lunged at its master out of a show of affection, but the size made the distinction between playing and predation very muddied. “No. NO!” Zarina took a quick step to the side and pointed her finger over the Emperor Kite's snout, nearly poking between her eyes. “Relax, and open wide, princess.”
In time, the three dragons were fed. While Zarina did so regularly, and went about all of her usual cleaning tasks as one might expect of a responsible dragon owner, she only went over the unused stalls once a month... on a good month. The last time had been shortly before Miret had been sent off to war.
Unsurprisingly, she found a smiling face gently carved into the cleaning bucket. Inside was a note left by her lover and a small bottle.
"This is Luudus Leaf shampoo. The Luudus plant grows in colonies along the southern edge of Nanoi, where it is rainiest, on coasts and islands of swampy inland lakes. It is a writhing vine and is known to eat people when it can. Harvesting it is an immense act of bravery and personal risk - no, I didn't get this one myself. I bought this from a vendor - and seen as a symbol of the importance of personal fitness and beauty. It is also the best shampoo that money - or a few fingers - can buy and will continue to clean your hair for two weeks after applied.
This is a reminder to always work as hard as I know you do, luuchii, but to look after yourself as well. While I'm right beside your snoring self as I write this, I imagine it'll be about a month until you find it and I hope you won't be too mad at me for being away for so long. I only ever cared about Tyrel and (kinda) Chad before I met you. You helped me care about myself and my future, about causes greater than me, about people who weren't yasoi, and - most importantly - about you. Do me a favour, would you? Space these out two days when you do the rest. If everything goes to plan, you'll have the best surprise of all waiting at the end of the last one."
Love you always,
Miret
P.S. Have you checked that Stella has been replacing the grinder filter regularly at your Proving Grounds location?"
The first paragraph was taken in like all the other letters, sat comfortably inside of Xiao's pen with the needy dragon's head rested over both Zarina's legs. Idle strokes kept the beast soothed and in partial slumber while the other held the longer note. It was the second paragraph that warranted a few pause. Embarrassment, loneliness, regret, want, fear. So many emotions flooded in at once. Her forehead met the base of her thumb, eyes closed in an effort to contain her feelings. She ended up letting only a sniffle escape.
“I miss you so much.”
Zarina whispered, prompting the semi-conscious Xiao to perk up for a second before falling back into comfort. “Other side of town, huh? Little shit.” the moment ended with a smile.
Respecting the request, the young beastmaster took the opportunity to do some errands - yet another task she usually delegated to hired work - by making the rounds through the shops and finally stopping at the Proving Grounds where her next message had be found. The last for the day.
The next day, after class, it was the Biology classroom with the fake skeleton - or at least she thought it was fake - where she'd find the next smiley-clue inside the skull.
Then it was the very first kiosk she had opened for Zenobucks. Inside the bin full of discarded coffee bags they returned to the merchants every two months for a light discount on extra shipping fees. The smile had a particularly smug look to it.
Initially she wanted to call it early if the clue hadn't led her back to her house. This one was easy to find: Riesco's mane had been neatly braided without Zarina's knowledge, and inside one of the braids was the next clue. There was no smile, instead the horse turned to perform his signature tongue-wag mockery. It never failed to make his rider burst into laughter.
Early in day two, the Virangish treasure seeker found herself at the Arboretum, by the tree where she and Miret had first met. Where she sought the shade after a botched three-legged race. “Where it all began. Corny. I love you so much.” she spoke to herself as she got to the tree and just took the chance to sit and watch the dawn kiss the city of magic.
While some of the surprises had been prepared and left waiting before Miret's departure, others had been slipped into place by a series of accomplices: a Seviin here, a Tku there, a Tommy at some point.
There didn't seem to be much here except a pretty view to make Zarina wax sentimental. That was when she detected a rustle in some nearby bushes. A quick energy sweep revealed no interloper - only the telltale signs of someone masking their energy signature.
“Oi.”
In the blink of an eye, Zarina stood just a foot away from the bush, arms crossed and eyes glaring down at it. Her position was such that the morning sun cast quite the shadow over the bush and whatever was hiding inside. “Where I'm from, we castrate peeping Toms.” she smirked.
There was nobody there, oddly. Zarina looked around in tandem with an energy sweep and saw a note nailed to the tree that she could've sworn hadn't been there before. When she approached it, it read:
"Look up."
She mouthed it as she read and... there was more than her own voice. Gazing down at her from the branches, hair dangling like curtains to either side of her face, was Miret with a soft smile and cheeks flushed with colour.
“Nice try.”
Zarina cackled and fought against the urge valiantly ... Before obliging with a swift and twitchy movement of her head. “Oi!” she called out as she spotted Miret. “Do you have a loicence for that tree there?” she asked with a mediocre Enthish accent. Hands on her hips, she expected the object of her affections to come to her after trekking for two days.
Miret dropped right down on top of her. "Here comes!" she squealed, hoping to be caught.
Zarina scooped her up in a bridal carry and the yasoi laughed, leaning in for a kiss. "Sostrong," she cooed, "My hero!"
A total fluke, Miret's voice made Zarina's knees weak and the shows affection reduced her tense muscles into mush, and yet she caught the trickster. “Hah. I may or may not dabble in some shellfish lifting.”
She batted her eyelashes as they parted and she was let back onto her feet. "Like my little scavenger hunt?"
Holding Miret in such a manner, however, quickly got embarrassing. Far too manly of a role! And she feared her increasingly permanent bitchface was going to make her into one of these easily identified sapphic phenotype the girls would incessantly gossip over. Gently she let her lover back down with careful consideration. “Uh, yeah, a date's never boring with you, is it? I'm just going to say it, I can't one up you.” she raised her hands in surrender.
But she didn't keep the distance for long. A quick step forward and she was brushing up to her sorely missed partner. “What brings you here, Luuchi? All this way, just for me? I'm flattered, but really?”
Dear Honourable Prospect, Has your life taken a turn? Do you seek thrills you have long since desensitized yourself to? Or perhaps you wish to start anew? Whatever your creed may be, one of Sipenta's mythical and lost marvels beckons the ambitious, curious and desperate alike. Deep in the frigid tundras lies the oldest gem of this world. An expedition like none other in history to unearth a legend that can make dreams into tangible reality. A chance for a legacy. A chance for a new beginning. A new era. The Abyssal Forge awaits you.
Whether it was morbid curiosity, a search for answers or a last chance to find meaning, you signed your soul to the once in a millenia opportunity to be the first to discover the Abyssal Forge. Its secrets beckon so sweetly, the potential infinite. The way you obtained your invitation could be interpreted as fate, a pure chance encounter, but at the back of any reasonable person’s mind, you wonder if this wasn’t all predetermined.
All invitation holders were brought to an innocuous meeting point, different for each. One was in the centre of Varrahasta inside a famous inn, another in a shed in the middle of nowhere Meatu. The response to their signed letter was a simple map with no other instructions. Most would be suspicious, but why even sign the letter if one wouldn’t even entertain the opportunity? There were no signs of danger after rigorous scouting, after all.
But the forces behind the plot had no intention of being discovered. Once in the respective rendez-vous points were found, the sensation of ants on every part of the body overtook even the strongest among you. Resistance was futile, magic had been stifled far too quickly compared to the anti-magic devices encountered in the past. Before long, the ceaseless, horrible sensation reached the head, numbing the mind as it did the body. You would awaken some time later somewhere unfamiliar, reeking of old and dust.
You could hear the sound of static near you. It repeated in regular intervals. The sensation of ants was still there but duller. You could move, but your magic was near impossible to tug out without causing your extremities to ache and your body to falter. As you come to more and more, your vision becomes less blurry and the source of the electrical noise becomes apparent: A wooden box with gold-coloured metal meshes of a circular shape. A contraption like you’ve never seen before, barring perhaps a few similarities to Sirrahi-tech, but far more rustic. In short, it was a radio.
“Bzzzt. I- Bzzzt. See you are awake. Good.”
The box produced a masculine voice. It sounded mundane, unfamiliar to you, though the grainy filter and static veiled the finer details and intonation. Upon focusing on the box, you notice a set of egg-sized metal capsule containers surrounding it. Three for a couple of groups, and two for another. As you keenly gain in awareness, you easily realize there is one for each person with you. Along with them was an equal amount of oil lanterns.
“Before we begin, open these eggs and swallow the pill inside. Lest you wish to perish slowly as did countless others.”
Whether you were already outdoors or you found a window to the outside, you would at some point see where you truly are. You had likely heard of Halge Larchelon before coming, the city known to have housed the first ever great forge in history. Now a large and dead ruin in the shape of a crater. That isn’t to say what created the crater was the cause of the lifelessness, but rather this city was once built inside of it with a large tower, one compared to the Forked Tower, looming over all.
You could not see the sun, nor even the sky that you knew for that matter. A thick fog contained the borders and spread about in the city while the heavens were perpetually swallowed by a blueish cloud with only a dim light source East of the tower that never seemed to move. There was the occasional lightning and thunder clap from these unusual clouds.
It was cold. Not freezing, just cold. The wind felt unnatural, almost stagnant as if it had been the same gust circulating for a long time.
A city ruled by a dark, featureless blue, dull grey and unimpressive brown. No life to be found, no home to preserve, and thus nothing to love, hate or feel passion over. And with the absence of all life, death too became stagnant. Memories now mere dust with nothing being built for thousands of years. Nothing.
A city that even the Gods had forgotten.
You have all been placed in different parts of the city, forming three initial groups. These will not remain for the entirety of the adventure, but they’re a start to avoid a huge cluster of people in one place.
You will get descriptions of each place you are in within your distinctive threads.
Interacting with the radio: You may ask the radio questions and interact with it. If you address the radio, all other participants will be able to hear your question and the answer. There will be a specific thread dedicated to interacting with the radio, while other threads will be hidden. Other means to communicate will be discovered as the story progresses.
Silence. Not even a gust of wind. Everything had died in what was once called Viiqii. All that remained was a crater of salted land and rapidly decaying matter. Matter that was once the men and women of this village, now gone without a trace. Cawiuo Zast, Selena Creighton and Qelen the elder were among them too. But what had claimed the very last morsel of this land’s soul was not the horror that had made it its nest. An amalgamation of the worst things in the Hells had baptized it with his arrival. Now, it is permanently scarred.
Arcaan’toras’aamii had witnessed it all and managed to keep his head. He would never know whether Belthagor allowed it or if he was insignificant enough to not even be noticed. The once promising land he had hoped to leverage for his clan’s long term prosperity became ground zero for the most repulsive and monstrous thing he had ever seen. His eyes were hollow and his gait reduced to a limp despite being physically fine.
He found his tent an hour later, partially destroyed. Inside was Yamo’nabal’fiin, kneeling before a body wrapped in blankets. His eyes were red from tears he could not hold back anymore as they met Arcaan’s. The Aamii did not have to see what was in the wrappings to know, but he still endeavoured to see. Suulii was in it, many veins bulging all over her body with her severed leg infested with now decaying plant life. Her eyes were closed, her chest did not move with a stab wound in its centre and she looked cold.
In a land where all distinguishing factors were devoured and brought to death, where it was neither hot nor cold, where nothing lived or died, the world had never felt colder for these two men.
Esmii’nesta’tawar had vanished without a trace while Niallus Saberhagen fought off the Smiler until the bitter end to save his friend. Both were considered dead, leaving many friends and family to grieve without bodies to bury or cremate.
Few, if any, would know what truly happened in Viiqii. History would sooner forget it over the grander war that was to come and the inevitable calamities the Grand Demon Belthagor was preparing for Sipenta. But those that survived, the precious few with still their bodies and minds, will remember this day. Where the beginning of the end was birthed.
It came from the Bog.
Until last year, the world’s balance was held and controlled by a select few people. Some held more weight than others, but their roles in world events were undeniably above any other formal ruler of the world. Some called them the Gods of the mortal plain, others thought of them as none other than mere tyrants playing the role of a God. But now the biggest players were off the board.
Hugo Hunghorasz - Slain by everyone that mattered.
The Emperor of Nikan - Slain by his own brother.
The Silent Monk - Slain by his own hand.
Optimate Pious XIII & Optimate Justine III - Alive and poised for replacement if the need arises.
President Sanfor - Allegedly still presiding in Missai.
Half were gone, the other half nubiles compared to the ‘big three’. She bit her thumb’s nail as recalled some of these events unfolding. Exhilarating. There were now the ‘New Powers’, some already near their peaks, others budding at an alarming rate.
Emperor Cascal’umi’anthan - Emperor of Tarlon and Supreme commander of the Grey Fleet.
Empress Esuul of Tantiac - New head of the Sanguine council, allying it with Tarlon.
Karim Harrachora - Hugo’s replacement in all but raw skill and power.
The Twin Emperors - Heads of the new Sanguine Council.
Volto Dorado - The head of the Volti, now making their move.
The Mad Avatar - High Priestess of Viisan.
Juulet smirked in satisfaction as she carefully noted that particular one down. The best was saved for last, though in spite of her megalomania, she knew something was missing in this picture. It quickly broke that infantile smile of her’s.
The Traveler - The true wildcard.
She tapped her pen against her chin. Surely there was someone else of that calibre. Surely there was another extraordinary being to consider.
Of course, there was one that had been there all along. As she was about to jot it down above even the fallen ‘Gods’, the sound of a door opened prompted the one-legged Yasoi to perk up. None of the guests whom she could hear the footsteps could actually see her, instead they saw a dark chair turned opposite to them. It was one of those spinning chairs she was incredibly fond of.
The rugged man content with merely a tunic and other inconspicuous clothing spoke up. “Are you about to make a dramatic turn-”
Juulet spun her chair to dramatically reveal herself to the group of guests.
“Greetings! I’ve had shrimp prepared for this early supper.” the Yasoi opened her arms to display the long dining table before her. There was a silver bell over each plate where the guests were invited to take seats. “I was real hungry, so I figured this big meet would go well with the yums.”
Viktor, briefly known as Felix, shrugged as if this was routine and took a seat to Juulet’s right. To her left sat a Yasoi of about her age. Facial features suggested more masculine traits, but the build and long brown hair leaned feminine. They grimaced the moment Juulet opened her mouth and sighed in exasperation when offered a seat. They were also the first to remove the bell, revealing large, roasted prawns with a healthy amount of spicy sauce on them.
“Where’s Merit?” inquired the androgynous individual, the voice revealing without a doubt that he was, in fact, male. His voice was dry and demanding, but he didn’t raise it nor come off as downright aggressive.
“Busy.” replied Juulet. With a bell removed, she had given herself permission to indulge after setting her notepad to the side. “She’s met with our special guests already. We’re here to discuss business with ‘em.” she munched away with little regard for manners. She was a goddess, such petty worries were beneath her.
“That way you can burn away all our credibility again after all the work she’s done? You never cease to amaze me, babe.”
“Shuuuut the fuck uuuupppp Calion.” whined Juulet, surprisingly composed for how she was being talked to. It looked more like siblings bickering than animosity, at least from her. Calion, on the other hand, had a hint of venomous animosity in his eyes.
Viktor completely zoned them out and indulged in his meal as would any man used to the outdoors - mostly using his hands to peel the shrimp.
There was another participant that had entered last. A man adorned in fine Rettanese silks with the attire itself reserved only for the highest class within the capital - The Exemplars. Clad in a mixture of gold, green and brown, this round-faced, clean shaven man looking to be in his forties employed proper etiquette from his region, from using gloves for his hands when needing to touch the foods to expert use of chopsticks.
“Anyway,” Juulet took a bite from her grub without even bothering to decorticate. “I wanted to lube us up before the big welcome. Namely with discussing dear Viktor’s report. And also I’ve had the best fookin’ idea ever.” the accent slipped there, just a little bit.
All three raised a collective brow to that.
Juulet cleared her throat.
“Viktor, I see here our guy Don Balls kind of had it coming. That kind of leaves us in a pickle, don’it?” she cocked her head like an overly naggy teacher reprimanding a young student.
Viktor shrugged one shoulder, his interest clearly geared more toward the tricky shell of the prawn he had in his hands. “He was dead before I had arrived.”
“Yeaaaaaah, but you fucked up with controlling that thing. It slipped and screwed around and now here we are.” her wide and crazy eyes peered deep into Viktor’s hollow soul.
“It did.” he answered, staring her down without a change in his demeanour.
A silence reigned briefly, only for it to be broken by Calion.
“Wasn’t that what we wanted?”
“... Yeah, but the results aren’t to me liking. I gotta blame someone.”
Calion rolled his eyes. “If it’s such a big issue, find someone else to hold your hand in that adventure down south.” Juulet glared his way, he returned the favour. “That isn’t me.”
Juulet huffed and crossed her arms. “I’ve had another job for you anyway.”
“You’re not my boss.”
“Kind of am. Anywho- Now we’ve got all this nice info on our green pet project, but a new actual issue arises.” there was a shift in tone in the mad avatar’s voice. All eyes were on her now, including the mysterious Rettanese man who seemed frankly out of place. “The Big B is out early. We’re going to adapt.”
A new voice spoke. “If the Arrogant One’s presence is a true concern, then we would have been mobilized to silence him.” the regally dressed man spoke with perfect Avincian. “If no such thing has been ordained, then the matter must be settled. I believe Mister Strauss has performed his duty and retrieved the essential information we had been seeking.”
Juulet kept quiet and had nothing witty to add. “Hmmm. Sure.” she reached out to pat the Magusjaeger’s forearm. “You did good. For a guy that’s died like four times.” she snorted and Viktor chuckled.
“Let’s get the other part done hastily, please.” complained Calion.
Juulet clapped her hands. “Oh right! Thanks Cally!”
Calion groaned and rolled his eyes. He detested that name, and her.
“So, I met this painter guy, right? Total pushover artsy type. He had this cutest rock-person! And it could shoot a big laser too!” her gestures were trying to capture both the smallness of the construct and the flashiness of the blast. “And so I thought, how could I get one of those?”
“Golems. Ersand’Enise has recently integrated them.” spoke the Rettanese nobleman. “An art specific to the Dark Mages of West Callanast.”
Juulet pointed the man’s way. “Yeah, that! I saw how BIG and AWESOME they were during that big kerfuffle of revolution, soooo …” a big grin with nearly lidded eyes was directed Calion’s way.
“... What?”
“Sooooo I thought maybe we’d get a few of our own. And what better place than the source. That art Yanii mentioned a place called An Zini or something.”
“An Zenui.” corrected Calion.
“Sure. I figured you’d be the best suited to filter out the best of the best and retrieve it for us~” she leaned toward Calion’s, almost rubbing up to him like a cat. “C’mon, say yes, before I gotta put on my boss pants.”
The male Yasoi pursed his lips and, after brief deliberation, shrugged. “Not the worst idea you’ve had. And keeps me away from you. I’ll do some recon.”
An excited Juulet clapped in celebration. “Fan-fuckin-tastic! We’re going places, I promise. Just a few more steps …” she bit her lip in anticipation.
“Oh right!” she shuffled on her seat to adopt a more proper posture. “I think our special guests are here. Let them in!” she called out to the doorman upon sensing a cluster of unfamiliar energy signatures. Three sets of footsteps entered. All Yasoi. Two women and one man.
“Welcome ladies and good sir, have a seat. I, Juulet’oli’muustii’zan, High Priestess of the Nation of Viisan, humbly invite you to my table.” she opened her arms and nodded her head in respect, though she didn’t stand.
Cherii'cola'caliman and Arsii'cola'sevenuup were first to find their seats, with the martiarch Leluun’dorii’cola taking the spot opposite of Juulet.
“And we would be delighted to discuss how we can help you settle a few misfortunate scores.”
Zarina materialized atop the now slain thresher corpse that remained afloat, partially kept afloat thanks to the hooks many of the ships had planted upon it. Her hand reached into some of the bulging guts by its jaw and drew the obscenely large buster blade as if it had always been her's. With a single hand, no less! Albeit with the help of the gift and the unnatural physical might helped too.
With the grotesquely large cleaver over her shoulders in an all-too-cool pose, the partially transformed wildblood overwatched the vultures now plucking the corpse for winnings. Vivid, near-reptilian eyes glowing with a golden hue scrutinized all those that bothered to dumpster dive. Trinkets and baubles were fair game, but there remained hazards she trusted none with after the recent developments. Not even her own allies.
It was a while after Zarina took her watch that she heard the thud of a chest dropping at her feet, the top flew open and a few loose coins clattered out. Leon stood on the other side as the kind donatdaer of such loot. "A tribute for the fearsome dragon." His smile was apologetic. If Zarina had half the greed she jested to have then the problem would be solved, but the performer knew it wouldn't be that easy. A gift of gold was simply a consolation prize to the loss of her plan.
He stood there beside her and took in the Virangish girl's defined draconic features. This is the strongest he had seen them so far, even more than in the Forked Tower.
Zarina peered down at the chest. With a light tap of her boot against it, the bowels ripped open to present the winnings. One coin stood out, one she drew in her mind to compare with another coin she prompted into flight - a silver coin with the same face on both sides. “A bribe.” she remarked, her voice quite nasally to accentuate the unimpressed nature of her reaction. “Really, Leon?” she rolled her eyes and did not seem to have any qualms in pocketing that one valuable coin after a brief comparison. She hadn't rejected it, at the very least.
“If you're going to say something about how you wanted to save lives-” she raised her hand and waved in dismissal. “Save it, I already know.”
"An apology." The performer squatted down and begun picking the scattered coins back up into the chest. "But I won't deny you the sense of dignity. I'll put the rest toward something good for us all, I never had much care for money." He went to close the lid.
Leon paused, Zarina had beaten him to the chase. "I won't bore you with the repetition, only that I doubted myself when I saw your plan having almost succeeded. I was ready to join you and ensure it's success. Then it started drawing again..." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I wasn't sure if it had been sedated enough and I saw students nearby it, you most of all. Who knows of I made the right call, but I did it to save your life Zarina." He retreated the comforting hand. He had no clue how the dragon would react to that. Not with flames, he hoped.
Zarina raised her foot and pressed it upon the chest's lid, closing it and preventing it from budging. “I may act offended, that doesn't mean I'm above taking your advance.” attempts at veiling her smug satisfaction had failed. A sharp-toothed smirk reigned supreme on her expression. “It will go to a good cause.”
Reptilian, almost snake-like, eyes peered toward the hand that touched her. No sudden movement or reaction of great aversion. Only an uncomfortable and frigid look. “Of all people, Leon,” the blade over her shoulders was planted back onto the thresher's carcass and she leaned her shoulder against the flat surface of the massive cleaver, arms crossed. “I'm not the one you should fear for. In the blink of an eye, I can be gone. With animal-like brutality, I can rip off a thresher's brain. No matter how small it may be.” she dedicated her gaze to the scenery she had charged herself with surpervising. “I don't hate you. I'm not even truly upset. But I want you to do something to dispel a doubt I have-” there was no eye-contact as she spoke solemnly. “Make sure your 'allies' are clean from the poison we've found here. Hurt them if you must. You do not want to appear as Revidia's dog. You do not want this to happen again.”
Leon held his hands up from the chest and gave a small huff of annoyance. He wondered if Zarina was getting a kick out of sending mixed messages. He rose back up. (If this gets posted, this chest exchange can take place before the other thing)
Leon shrugged. "And yet I feared for you anyway. I'm sure you would have done the same for me." His tone was no longer apologetic but conclusive, it was what it was. He walked forward to stand beside her and followed her line of sight, feigning the same vigil the girl had dedicated herself to.
"My allies?" He had to take some time to think about what she meant. He thought of the other Revidians on the mission, then realised that one hadn't been among the looters at all. "It's a generous statement to consider Trypano my ally. Myself and Rikard made a pact with her to ensure the weapon's destruction. But I suppose she has a short memory when it comes to allegiances, I don't trust her to have kept that promise. Its fortunate we will all return to the same place when we leave Zengali."
Before Zarina could reply, Leon raised a hand to cut her off. "Food for thought, Zarina. Do you think that this weapon would be entrusted to an expedition around Mezegol if it were the only copy?" He turned toward her and looked into her eyes with certainty and resolution. "Do you trust me, Zarina? Despite all this, do you still believe in me?"
“No, I'm willing to bet they have a festering supply.” answered Zarina as she turned her gaze to meet Leon's. “I trust your heart, less so your head.” cold frankness came with unflinching eyes. A mixture of disappointment and frustration, directed at the universe rather than Leon himself, was the concoction that created such an emotionless reaction. “The fact that they likely have copies of the stuff made the plan all the more important. It WILL appear again. It WILL spread. And we don't have a proven weapon against it, other than the same old.” a nasal sigh escaped her.
“That bitch - the creepy one - was willing to let my friend die in order to study some disgusting slime. She is not a friend to anyone. A book you can most certainly judge by the cover.”
When Zarina confirmed her trust, Leon seemed satisfied and allowed himself a smile. Even if it was backhanded, it was good enough for him. With a wave of his hands, he put a sonic bubble around them and went back to talking business. He thought about bringing up the fact that Zarina had also been willing to give lives to study a slime today. But what did that achieve? How did that benefit his goals? "Zarina, I don't trust Trypano for more than just that. If she has taken off with the weapon, she stands to support a regime that would take the lives of thousands. She will see justice for it, I swear that."
After his vow, there was a short pause as he pondered something. "Another thing to consider: if you retrieved the slime, what if you couldn't find an effective cure in time? The Sovereign Pact could get the weapon and now it is just a normal part of war, both sides will use it because they fear the other will use it first... Right now, it's contained to a small secretive group, but undoubtedly they take their orders from someone." Leon looked at Zarina and smiled sweetly for outside eyes, but the subject matter gave it a conspiratorial look. "Would it not be better for the weapon to be disposed of before it sees the light of day?"
Zarina cocked her head, and then an eyebrow. “What are you getting at, Leon?” her tone seemed challenging, but her gaze oozed of curiosity. “Such a secretive group would be ... Hard to reach. I would wager that getting such people out of the picture would have bigger implication for the world than the removal of a bad, bad plague.”
It was the kind of subject matter that justified the sonic bubble he put around them. Leon's expression was performative, he wore a kind smile while he spoke of dire subject matters. To the outside eye it could have been perceived as a private conversation for personal reasons.
"Being hard to reach tends to happen with secretive groups, but I'd wager we both have a pretty good idea on who calls the shots. Even if we somehow stopped the weapon here, another would take its place, and another. A man who condones such things remains in power so what happened here is just a battle in a greater war." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Imagine if that man was replaced by someone kinder who would want this all to stop. Someone more popular to gain the support of the people. Someone, frankly, hotter." He gave Zarina a wink at the final jest to make it clear that that 'someone' was himself.
Ideas on who this replacement could be ran through her mind. It all seemed like a web of possibilities, many of which had their flaws but also their upsides. Then, of course, he used 'hotter' as a qualifier. The dullest of stares took shape upon the dragon's visage. “You? Really?” she scrutinized his form from top to bottom. She then tapped her thick nail upon the forearm he had extended toward her shoulder. “Are you even Revidian?”
"You have such little faith?" Leon was beginning to get tired of Zarina's mean mugging and his smile started to fade. He retracted his hand back and faced the scene of the thresher's remains. "It's simple enough really, I just need to marry-" He caught himself with a grimace. "Well, I'll find a way. If it is a matter of the people's support, I already have it and I'm Revidian enough... I don't plan to let the possibility stop me. I have the ability to change things, Zarina, my goal hasn't changed since the Forked Tower. This is the route for me to do it."
“I devoted my faith to a God that ended up being a guy in a big parka playing games in the trials. And I'm also not in the best of moods.” Zarina's eyes took in the gore that Leon had been watching, emphasizing the source of her discontent. “You alone won't make it. The great and mighty Hugo tried, and look what happened to him.” her crossed arms tightened around herself. “So I'll be skeptical. For your sake. You've got enough Yes Men. It's the least I can do as your genuine ally.”
"Well there's a big difference. I hop around and play games in the Trials and people only have more faith in me." He chuckled the thought away. "But your right, Zarina, I can't do it alone. I'm not even entirely sure you can help with this, but I told you anyway... I need you on my side and I don't want to let something like this get in the way of it. So trust me that justice will be done."
Leon shifted his eyes toward Zarina and tilted his head slightly to her direction. "We have an entire world to change, let's not stop that here. I don't think I'll get far without you staring me down on the occasion and letting me know my wrongs." He explained with an amused tone.
“Here's not the place for the details.” reminded Zarina as the vultures were piling up their bounties. One was missing, as expected. “But I'm with you.”
"I am happy to hear that." He said sweetly.
"Now!" he announced in a far more playful and upbeat tone. "As much as I trust you, I would rather minimise the risk of waking up with a knife in my back. So, we were actually talking about your love life this whole time. Me, being the nosy romantic, was prying into your fling with that Tarlon girl, Miret, was it? And of course, you were unimpressed by the poor timing, didn't want to talk about it, and told me to stay out of it. Agreed?"
"You may slap me if you think that'll sell it better."
The moment Leon finished and brought up even the the word 'slap', Zarina immediately seized the opportunity and raised her fist, arm bent in a ninety degree angle, to collide with his nose. Yes, she intended to potentially break it. Luckily they had binders up the wazoo.
“Great idea. Don't bring her up again, though. I'm still moody over it.” she warned with a faux-smile that was supposed to denote a another layer of fakeness. Although, truthfully, she did feel he had deserved some of it, tasteless comment or not.
Leon had extended his head forward a little to received the slap. He did not expect a punch in the nose and he recoiled back at the impact. "Ow, ow ow," he spoke through hands that cupped his mouth, "I had meant a pretend slap, Zarina..." He hunched over and expended some binding magic before rising again to a face that is perfectly fine.
"Honestly... this face is worth more than Zenobucks, you know." With a huff, he adjusted his clothing. Traces of blood on his hands indicated that it wasn't Zarina's blow being poor but more Leon's proficiency in cosmetic binding that had his face come out alright.
Then, when the silence took in, Leon realised it probably wasn't right to bring up. "... I'll keep her name off my tongue. But don't be afraid to let me know when you need help. I'm quite the asset in that regard and I do owe you a few favors." With that he rose a hand, clicked his fingers, and the sonic bubble dissipated.
It was right then that the answer seemed to present itself, at least from the other end of things. Whatever other leads they'd gotten, the one pointing to the Cola Brothers had seemed the strongest and they were on their way. Drawing close, Abdel had reached out with his tethered range and picked up what he was pretty sure were the rest of the group. They'd just finished beating up some hoods and were not far from the warehouse that they'd been told to bring the money to.
Xiuyang felt a pinch behind her ears that could only have been the group's lone tethered: <Close. 400. There soon. Learn? Danger?>
The reply came in the form of subtle binding magic. Xiuyang tattooed it temporarily across her shoulders where only Abdel could see. Learned much. Didn't catch it, yasoi. Colas, big threat. We go in with money, you ambush?
<Big Enemy. Big Enemy. Big Enemy. Careful. Distance. Will ambush.>
Once at the edge of the supposed Cola 'territory', Abdel instinctive reached out with the gift. Blood pumping. Echoing stridors. Sweat drops slowly smealessly through dry skin. “Man, tied up on the floor. Porbably Yasoi.” he reported with squinted eyes. Dayanara gurgled, curious as to the smells and sounds coming from the warehouse.
“Thre other people around him-” the squinting intensified. Was something wrong? It was not strain but a second-guessing. “One is MASSIVE. A monster. I have no idea how someone can get that big.” flabbergasted, he blinked a few times to reconcile what he had perceived with reality. “There are other people outside working. I can't tell if they with the folks inside as employees or others.” before any sort of conclusion could be made, he raised his hand to keep the attention on him. “There's a LOT of energy near the doors. I ... Can't tell what it is.”
Johann nodded once. He took a deep breath, psyching himself up, and pounded a fist into his open hand. He seemed quite anxious. "Then it's time for me to become a monster of our own," he decided, taking another steadying breath. "Maybe the other group comes in with the money and we're the assurance outside? the element they don't know about?"
“This is what the others are planning. I've warned them of the fiend.” Abdel confirmed.
"So, he said a lot of words, but did we learn anything?" Xiuyang asked Ashon as she approached him. Then, suddenly, she erected a sonic bubble. "Hm. Abdel is advising that we should keep our distance. There's a 'big enemy' at the warehouse, whatever that might mean." Meanwhile, she replied to Abdel as she dropped the bubble. Big enemy, inside warehouse? What else?
<Doors danger. Mystery. Three bads. One BIG. Two not BIG. One man down.>
Xiuyang snorted at "not BIG." She wasn't sure why she found it funny. Nerves, maybe? Then came her reply. Jaxan? she asked simply.
She put up the bubble again, this time making sure to include Seviin. "Only that our enemies have two tricks up their sleeves. A 'big enemy' inside the warehouse, and a mystery door trap. That's a bit of a pissoff. I wanted at least the appearance of a negotiation, but it seems we're in for a fight as soon as we're there."
< Not Know. >
Jaxan, resistance. Enemy of Colas, Xiuyang quickly relayed to Abdel. Negotiations likely futile.
Whatever they were discussing, they did not have long to do so. Niallus was the first to notice it, with Abdel being so distracted and Johann focusing intently on... something. One could sense chemical changes within him, though.
There were a couple blasts of energy and then a young yasoi woman came racing towards them from the direction in which they were headed, heartrate elevated, bright red hair pasted to her face in sweaty tangles or trailing off behind her. "You fucking bastards!!!" she screamed in the direction of something behind her. Tears were rolling down her face, and she kept running right past them.
Abdel side-stepped. The human-conatct role could be relegated to another, he had to figure out what had just happened. More Tethered senseroo.
Seeing the red head run towards them. Perhaps this is a sort of way for us to help, thinking the best idea, he decided to help her from whatever she's running from.
"Over here, we'll help you." He said to her. As he dashed towards her.
The woman ran right into his arms. She was small and soft. "They took it, the bastards!" she wailed. How the tears poured from her. "It was my future and they took it!" For a moment, she pulled away, perhaps realizing that she had just run into the arms of a complete stranger. "Oh, you're a yan... A huusoi. I-I'm sorry." She clenched her fists in helpless rage. "Those bastards."
Niallus braced himself as she ran into him. When she pulled away informing that, he is indeed a Yani."Yes i am, its ok. We aren't going to hurt you." trying to put her at ease, "What seems to be troubling you?" He asks her.
"It's those Cola Brothers!" she bawled. "I..." She swallowed, and then hung her head in shame. "I was forced to work for them. They paid well. I..." She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "I needed the money. It would've been enough to start my own business, to not just be another poor girl from a broken land, to follow in my father's footsteps and be a candymaker." She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. "It was my last time doing... that work before I'd have been done with it forever."
"Fuck," she breathed, almost inaudibly. "They didn't pay me, they stole everything, and then they were going to..." She stopped there, noticing the others, suddenly. "Sorry. Thanks for being here. They won't chase if you're here, at least." She looked uncertain, regarding Niallus' companions as well as him. "Could I impose a bit and stick with you just until the danger's cleared?" she asked anxiously.
Abdel remained quiet for a bit. He took his time to alternate between keeping a keen eye on the warehouse and vetting this woman.
It was odd that they'd make a scene now of all times. Why would they want more attention on them?
“You should go home.” the Skuggvar-boy said flatly. “Once we're done, you'll get your money.”
She came up short and swallowed. "I..." she breathed heavily, trying to steady herself. "Wait," she remarked. "One you're done?" She shook her head. "You're not thinking of fighting those monsters, are you?"
She turned to Niallus? "For me!?" She drew back and shook her head. "While I appreciate that chivalry isn't dead - " She glanced Abdel's direction. "Though bedside manner might be - Don't risk yourself on my account, unless..." She trailed off. "You weren't already..." She backed off, shaking her head. ""Oh no no nooo..."
“If it comes down to it.” he kept it at that. There didn't seem to be any sort of lust for blood, but he did have two vicious-looking Skuggvars. The sort that could maul just about anything - Look at that wicked gurgling!
Oksana and Abdel spoke and then Niallus did. The woman perked up immediately. "Yes!" she exclaimed. Her eyes darted about. "You shouldn't fight them. they're strong and devious and they've been turning that place into a warehouse." She shook her head. "They've been building near the doors and I'm pretty sure those are traps." She shrugged sheepishly. "Not that I can say for sure. Not really the sort of thing a candymaker knows much about."
She leaned in conspiratorially, smirking, the tears now dried on her face and took all four of her saviours in. "Not just a back way, suunei," she addressed Oksana. She pointed upwards. "There's a false ventilation shaft on the roof." She twisted and pointed. "See that chimney?" She squinted and wiggled her pointer at it. "It has a ladder. It's their bolt hole and how they move people and small valuables they really don't want people knowing about."
The yasoi woman grinned wickedly. "There'd be nothing more fitting than fucking them right through that damned thing." Her face hardened. "I'd be happy to show you where."
Abdel, before making any decision, actually inspected the proposed passage. “The roof seems like a good shout.” remarked Abdel, his apprehensive gaze toward the woman softening just a little. “That said, if they notice anything, they could just flush you out. I'm not sure it's a good idea if they're actually prepared. That's where any infiltrator would go.”
She shrank back a little and shrugged. "I guess you're right. I just know they use it a lot and they were trapping the doors." She shook her head. "Definitely do nto go in through there."
Niallus considering the options that were laid out for them."Apart from the traps, and the exit, miss. Do you have any idea whats inside?" He asks her.
She nodded. "Well, it changes a lot, but they have a few things: lots of goods, both legal and illegal; weapons stashed about, sleeping areas separated from the rest of it, a safe or two that I was never allowed to even get close to, and..." She trailed off as if she was about to say more, but she noticed Abdel concentrating. "I have my suspicions about the basement, but I wasn't allowed there either."
< Chimney. Maybe. Possible. Safe not sure. Door. Trap. >
Xiuyang, shaken from her giddiness, takes a second to reconsider. Far away from door. Further than enemies. Blow it? she proposes to Abdel. Spring trap, know their numbers. In position to flee if needed.
Acknowledged, she replied. And with that, she fired her kinetic spell right at the door, timed with the movements of the illusion.
Abdel reached out to the downed young Yasoi. A bit of pinching was in order.
< Hello. > <Fine?> <Fine?> <Fine?>
<Help?>
<Hello> came the reply after a moment. <Okay. Help.>
Then, however, there was an explosion, and then another pinch. <HELP.>
Abdel didn't panic. Why would they put their ace in the hole in danger?
< Close. Coming. >
“Something's going awry. We need to draw these people out.” re-affirmed the Tethered, a palm on each animal to pacify their growing gurgliness.
The doors blew in with stunning force, exploding into splinters. The urns shattered and... there was nothing to see but a gust barreling in and then blowing violently back out. The fox-masked woman stood there amid the debris, her cloak flapping in the wind. She stalked forward confidently and it was perfect work, almost enough to make the true Xiuyang proud.
Two hoodlums - a yasoi man with red hair and a woman with short dark hair - coughed and reeled, but the great hulking figure who stood behind them was unbowed. There was a Gargantuan surge of energy, but not much happened aside from a few weak gusts of wind in the area of the apparent Xiuyang. Then, a couple more in the area behind her.
"Right in through the front door, not even an attempt to negotiate," she chided, collecting herself. "I had hoped to be working with professionals."
"Fantas, they're not here to negotiate. They probably don't even have the money." She nodded. "Kill the kid and let's split."
Abdel followed the movements closely. The explosion was not what he had expected, but to hurt and/or kill their only leverage?
There was little time to act. The scrawnier henchman - the one approaching the hostage - was immediately stared down by the tethered's gargantuan gaze.
“Go, now!” he ordered his group. “That big guy's going to cause a problem!”
The big man began gathering energy again for something else huge and it was clear that he was a real danger. Just as he seemed about to unleash it, however, the second yasoi man - the lanky ginger - froze and contorted. For a second, the youth in his kinetic grasp bobbled and began to fall. Then, he stabilized. Perhaps the others didn't know what had caused it or what it was, but it was Abdel and he had bloodwarped his enemy.
Abdel had a metaphysical vicegrip on the unsuspecting Yasoi captor. Not too strong, not too aware. An easy target. His position was kept as it was, thus keeping the poor hostage in the air and on the brink of oblivion.
“I got one under-” there came a deep, foreboding sense of dread that hit him. Trained his was was the ire of the monster he had identitied since they had arrived. He was found so quickly? Amidst all these people? If he let go, it could spell the end of the hostage, too. “Johann, Oksana! Big attack coming our way! I can't let go!” he yelled out, voice slurred from the hurriedness but clear enough, hopefully.
"I can feel the bugger," Johann growled, closing his eyes and reaching out. "Time for him to pick on someone his own size." He grinned maliciously. "Or be picked on."
An immense pillar of lightning blasted clean through the building's roof and struck the hulking figure in the middle. He spasmed and jerked, roaring in annoyance. "Oh ho hooo! Someone big wants to play!" he exclaimed, but Abdel remained in control of the man who remained in control of the hostage as the two giants tussled.
The red-haired yasoi straightened and, seemingly from nowhere, pulled out a pair of odd but wicked looking blades. "For the record, he's a sweet boy and I didn't enjoy any of it." She sighed and drew... and drew... and drew: a classic yasoi intimidation tactic.
Then, however, it was a two-on-one. The woman glanced between her two adversaries, taking stock of matters, and... while Oksana had been up there long enough to sense her massive energy draw, Lunara had not. A huge fiery blast came straight for the Palaparese, catching her cold.
Meanwhile, Niallus would've done anything to be cold, though in a different way. Arduously, pulling in and expelling massive amounts of thermal energy, he carved through the thick ghulthite. He could feel his hair burn away and his skin start to shrivel and peel. At first the pain was incredible, and then it began to fade as nerves died. Yet... bit by bit, he completed his circle and then it wobbled. With a blast of kinetic force, it came flying free. It hurtled across the warehouse and slammed into the opposite wall with such force that it punched a hole clean through. A burned, raging figure emerged, smoke and steam rolling off of his grotesque figure. The outside world beckoned.
"Very well," the manly yasoi woman was replying in another part of the warehouse She ignored Ashon at first before being unable to resist a jibe. "You shall have your... 'son' returned to you safely in five."
Meanwhile, Abdel, maintaining his concentration and slowly retreating out of range, soon found himself more or less out of the fight. It was a lot to maintain his lock on the ginger yasoi, however, and it taxed him to his very limit. Jerking his puppet on invisible chains, he began forcing the man to lower his hostage. Qadira and Dayanara stood guard to either side of him but, then...
Dayanara let out a loud gurgling growl and turned her massive head. Qadira hissed and lowered herself into a ready position. So occupied was Abdel that he could not take the focus necessary to sense what was coming until it was nearly there. Dayanara sprung into action, leaping at the coldfire wyvern while Qadira barreled for the dreadmaw halassa.
"Four..."
Dorothea began to stir, the dread power of Levidan the Accursed dragging her from the depths of unconsciousness and demanding that she take action, that she crush these subhuman nothings that had dared lay her low.
It was at this moment, as the youth was being gently lowered from close to the ceiling, as Johann blasted the huge yasoi through a wall and was, in turn, himself, driven into the ground, that the ground opened up into a thousand needles and a gravitational slam to drive Abdel towards his death.
"Three..."
Seviin rose and gathered her power, filling Ashon and Dory with it. These criminals were not to be trusted. They had wronged Mother Oirase and now they were Lord Exiran's playthings if there was any justice in the world.
It was then that Oksana felt another presence off to the far side of the roof. A tall, elegant man stood there with a thin black rapier in his hand. He flourished it and began walking toward her.
"Two..."
Abdel's one goal was to secure the hostage. Such a goal in such precarious conditions wasn't going to happen without getting one's hands dirty. He knew where this was going to end with thugs wielding too much power. Ever since his contact with those without faces, he was ready to be the one to pull that trigger. Now was the time.
Just as Fantas had brought down the kid as per ordered by the one controlling the puppet strings, a new force had entered the equation.
A wyvern accosted Dayanara while Qadira repulsed a shelled beast with her tail. Beast versus beast.
“Mierda!” swiftly, upon freeing the redhead Yasoi from his merciless grip, he immediately rolled out of the way from the assailant's ambush.
His eyes met with the final enforcer of that dreadful clan. “A lot of effort. A lot of exposure for just a cash grab.” remarked the Tethered teen between hearty breaths for air. “A lot of risk for a brat.”
Beastmaster versus Beastmaster, a showdown not to miss!
Dory's purpose was clear and her aim was true. In, she breathed, and out, and there a bullet flew. And yet, beyond her bubble, where a roiling calm prevailed, on past the perfect focus through which her bullet sailed...
Things were happening.
Unbeknownst to Dory, some three hundred yards away, Abdel, for his survival, had been forced to free his prey. A momentary lapse seized that ginger-haired yasoi. He tremored and wobbled and then released the boy...
Who fell from the sky.
It happened so fast the Gods must've desired it. He fell into the path of the bullet: she'd fired it. Dory had sworn to leave one of them dead. She'd aimed her gun straight for the lesbian's head.
But the shot struck the boy.
For a moment, nobody believed it. For a moment, the shot had surely struck its intended target. Reshta did not play such cruel jokes upon any but those who had earned her personal ire.
"One."
Ashon, Seviin, and Xiuyang were caught off-guard by the shot, for Dory had acted solo. The woman who'd been counting froze, just about to take a step forward. No sooner had the ginger-haired yasoi regained himself than he crumpled.
"Moila!" he screamed. "Dii! Oh Exi, dii!" His hands snapped the sides of his head, ripping at his hair. His sister's eyes widened like dinner plates and she stood there for a moment, frozen.
Then, there came a cold rage.
Niallus, having emerged from his deathtrap panting and snarling and still thinking that he had hair, did a whole lot of nothing but look angry, but he soon had cause to do more. He'd missed the exact details of what had happen, but all watched the boy hit the floor, his impact lessened by the red-haired man's intervention, but would it be any good? Had the bullet intended for his apparent captor done him in?
Niallus didn't get the chance to ruminate on it. Two more thugs appeared from opposite directions. While one was at the other end of the warehouse, and made Dory his direct target, the second sent a wave of hyperdense slicing wind at the Eskandishman from less than a dozen meters away.
The woman let out a shrill kinetically-enhanced whistle that carried through the whole building and even up onto the roof. Then, she and her brother barreled towards Ashon, Xiuyang, and Seviin with everything that they had. If the deal had looked about to go through, it was 'off' now, and the escape was on.
Isolated, all his allies in the frey, leaving him with only his bestial vanguard - a vanguard soon overtaken by the enemy’s own mirrored initiative.
Dayanara and Qadira were locked into battle with creatures. Two earthen dwellers, putted against adversaries from both the heavens and the seas. And there was Abdel, sandwiched between the two conflicts, eyes trained on the conductor of this wild orchestra.
“You’re one of them.” deduced the Tethered upon giving a quick anatomical checkup of the man. Same physical quirks, and more RAS than the average refugee. “You should know this isn’t going to work. Not after this.”
“It doesn’t matter.” spoke the Yasoi man, far more eloquent than any migrant. He had been here for a while, Abdel could tell. “Leave at once, or be killed.” he ordered, calmly.
Abdel shook his head. “The more you fight, the more will fall onto your family. Give up the boy and we’ll leave as if nothing had happened.” Abdel proposed. And just as he was about to add another comment, both he and Pepsii sensed something that deeply disturbed them. Both looked to the warehouse as a gunshot rang through the area.
“Damn it.” Abdel clicked his tongue. “Someone is going to DIE. Is that the goal here?” Abdel threw his arms up in exasperation whilst his beasts repulsed the assailants. A stalemate, for now.
Pepsii’s body language was not one of retreat, however it was not one of pure rage either. This human was garbage - absolutely nothing to trifle over. But with so many humans entering conflict with his family, this would spell the end of their clan. His raison d’être, after losing everything that drove him once before.
“Or we can silence you all.” the man decided as he drew and began to intensify gravity all around his range, and then focused all that power toward Abdel.
The young Tethered, with Pepsii’s answer as his cue, drew the black sword sheathed inside one of Qadira’s backpacks, and wielded it with both hands. Stance clumsy, but his magnetic field more than enough to masterfully govern the weapon, she pointed straight at the Yasoi.
“I’ve faced worse than you.” taunted Abdel, his nerves getting the slight better of him. “At the very least, I’ll keep you back long enough for that whole place to burn.”
Thunderclaps and meteorite crashes collided. The battle to keep Pepsii back from nourishing the Cola forces had begin, with Abdel as the last remaining soldier holding the line.
Pepsii stalked forward, his eyes distant and dead an implacable. “And you would sacrifice your very life for a mere payday?” he responded, barely arching an eyebrow. “You are either contradictory or a bad liar.”
From out of nowhere appeared a curved white blade in one of his hands. “Please move and I shall not harm you, tethered. We have no desire to cause any more pain.” He closed in almost... languidly, the amoutn of energy around him building higher, and higher, and almost crushingly high. "Reach out with those enhanced energy senses of yours and know for truth who shot that boy. We are not your villains."
“I'm not the one who rustled the hornet's nest.” retorted Abdel, just as immovable as the Yasoi. “But I must underline the irony of what you're saying - you wish to stop inflicting pain, yet you've left nothing but pain in your wake.” literal tensions rose in the air. He acknowledged the discrepancy in who shot whom, but it seemed to do little to rattle his stance. “You will release the boy. Do so and we will leave before someone actually gets hurt.”
“Hah!" Pepsii laughed. “How can we release what we don't have?" He shook his head. “Those vaunted senses of yours aren't all they're chalked up to be, I see!" He stopped right at the point of the boy's sword, unimpressed, and stood there for a moment.
It came seemingly from nowhere: the yasoi's sword tripled in size and came down in a wicked combo of slashes. Abdel had sensed the energy buildup, however. He was ready.
Abdel remained steadfast, but the revelation was what he feared: This was all a bluff. His lips twitched and his posture opened up as if he was readying himself for a swing.
But Pepsii was faster. There was no way this untrained swordsman could stop that. What he could do, however, was what he did best - Bloodwarping. Not the whole body, not even a whole limb, just the right muscles that made holding this sword bearable. Enough to break a stance have all that energy misfire. All that so he could retaliate with a simple and very telegraphed upwards swing, from under the hip to overhead, aiming to sever one of the arms.
A fantastic wave of kinetic energy separated the two before the attack could land cleanly, but it left a long, shallow slash down the inside of the yasoi's arm. His sleeve flapped open raggedly and blood trickled from the wound. He glanced at it annoyedly. "Why are you in Mudville, yanii?" He shook his head and spread his arms. The blade disappeared. Instead, surrounding the pair, came dozens more. "Come to police us?" He shook his head angrily as the blades began to rotate rapidly. "For some 'resistance' lickspittle?" He shook his head, throwing his arms out to his side. "You think you're the good guys! How little you know!"
“I don't think I'm anything.” rebuttled an unenthusiastic Abdel, still catching his breath after barely getting chopped himself. His hat had flown away from the immense kinetic blasts, but he still stood at the ready. “My job's to find people, and so I did. You've been in the way of that.” the tethered drew once more, this time to exercise his magnetic field on the rotating blades and proactively prevent the next assault. “Why bother with such a stunt? It was never going to work with a family like that. And for just a lump of money that can be tracked? You should be explaining yourself instead of me.”
"We don't owe you shit, yanii!" The blades whirled, one stabbing in every so often as Pepsii made his move and went to break around the stubborn boy. "After you ruined our home and even before those Tarlonese dirtbloods invaded it, I was here, trying to make this a home for our people: a place close to the mecca of magic, in good faith." A blade sliced across the youth's cheek and another speared him glancingly in the shoulder. "They only ever wanted to use or dismiss us, and all the drug dealers only wanted to keep setting us at each other's throats." He shook his head. "It's simple: we decided to fight the resistance because they were a plague on our land as much as any others, using the Tarlonese invasion to extort what little the rest of us have. It's a losing fucking fight, though. They control the narrative. We're always the badguys so, hey, that's what we've become. They blame us for the kidnapping, why not profit? With this money, I can get out - maybe all of us can. Now you bunch of clueless fucking do-gooders come in here and fuck it all up."
He let out a bitter laugh. "You think you know Talthan and Emenii. You have no idea how fucking evil they are. Now, get the fuck out of my way or I will tear you limb from limb for my family's sake."
Abdel found a moment to reach out and acknowledge the situation. The boy had been secured by Xiuyang.
“I did not do anything to your people.” corrected the tethered, each jab from the blades barely deflected by a mixture of his ferromagnetic matery and his robust sword. “You distinguish the grifters of your kind from others, yet cannot distinguish a Tethered from the humans in power. You are a hypocrite and a clown. It's no wonder we're all here.” he stood his ground out of pettiness, almost.
“But I'm no fool. I will let you pass.” his blade was lowered, just a little. “But under two conditions. You give your word that you'll stay away from my colleagues.” dark eyes stared right into the eldest Cola's. “And you tell me about this set-up. If the resistance is the architect of this whole shebang, then my job isn't finished. Answer me, and this hiccup can go away.”
"I have vanishingly little interest in your colleagues, though your tone has..." For a moment, something infinitely cruel - Juulet-like - danced behind his eyes, but then it disappeared and there was a sort of weariness. "We think the resistance has him. He's one of those idiot rich kid sympathizers - I'm sure his parents love it - who willingly went to them, spawning darklings for the junkies all the way." Pepsii shook his head. "They have him and they've foisted the blame on us so some more rich idiots from the White Walls come and squash us and they can run this place unchallenged. Congrats. Now get the fuck out of my way before I put you on two, boy." Without any more than a tilt of the yasoi's head, all of the blades pulled back, hovering threateningly around Abdel.
Abdel resisted the urge to maintain the confrontation. This man played the victim, but was as guilty as any other grifting organization with how he and his family treated others. That urge was as wicked as that glint in Pepsii's eyes. Still, he stepped aside, and almost simultaneously, the Skuggvars retreated with a more submissive demeanor. “Hey, fuck you too, guy.” arms crossed, the eldest Cola was granted passage. “Screw me, and I'll start with that scrawny ginger.” he warned.
Pepsii had already started moving, their hostilities at an end. His two beasts, just a bit worse for wear, began to follow. Then came Abdel's words, and he stopped dead in his tracks. He didn't turn. Instead, his voice was low and cold and hard. "You wanna repeat that, boy?"
He drew a supernova of energy.
“You heard me.” repeated Abdel with words oozing with venom. “Screw with my people, I'll screw with yours. That's how your kind operates, right? Leverage, usually under the form of a close one?” he matched the Cola's show of power, albeit far less spectacular than the Yasoi's. “Feels terrible, doesn't it?” he nudged his head to the side. “Go save them before they get themselves killed. Instead of trying to impress me.”
"You are a true mage of Ersand'Enise." He shook his head and jetted away. The swords, no longer held apart, raced toward the magnetically-charged Abdel.
Abdel sneered. Arms crossed before his form in a defensive formation, he focused his magnetic field into just a couple of metres around him. Concentrated and palpably electrifying, the majority were deviated, but not quite deflected. He was left with a matching cut to what he had given to Pepsii. “I've a feeling you are intimately familiar with such a mage.” he remarked, his energy devoted to healing that minor slice.
Xiuyang backed away, severely battered and burned, frightened by the power that reminded her of the dragons in ReTan. She would not stop the behemoth of a man from burying his sister. She had the money, and had been attacked and tricked multiple times. Feeling like a target, she moved to the outer edge of the conflict. She rushed to Abdel's side and whispered to him in hushed tone. She didn't bother to play up the accent—he knew who she was. "The hostage was another Cola brother. Before he tried to kill me, he confessed strange things to me. We might be able to find Jaxan, but I don't want her with us. How do we lose her?" She gestured towards Dorothea as she slowly patched what she could of her burns.
Abdel was still healing his lacerated flank and arm when Xiuyang had joined him. Ever the vigilant Tethered, once the big distraction named Pepsii was gone, he could piece together the current mess his senses gathered. Most notably the wicked and dense magic, one he had learned or at least a year now to be dark magic, was sicked upon one of the hooligans.
“The eldest pinned it on the resistance.” answered Abdel without the trouble of hushing up. They were very much at the edge of the battlefield, and the sounds of war caught most outliers' attentions. “Did you hear something similar?” once his wound healed and his plain apparel knitted back together, he peered the Rettanese-Revidian's way. “If so, we could gather those we need and leave while this bordello solves itself.” he figured, nonchalant to the chaos unfolding.
But then he let a half-hearted chuckle escape him. “What troubles you so much about her?” he did not seem amused, but instead pensive - a true pokerface barring the force smile when speaking. “A monster might be what we need to deal with other unsavory creatures.” once again, his eyes were made to meet Salomé's. “Would you save this woman that caused you grief if you could?”
The Skuggvars were there, Abdel was ready, they could leave right now if they so wished. But he seemed more interested in knowing Xiuyang's position in all of this.
It was Seviin who interrupted him, however. "I would. It is not ours to decide who lives and who dies, merely to respond as we are treated." Her hands found his side and sped up his healing until the wounds were gone. "She was a bad a person, but nobody deserves this fate, ever."
There was still Xiuyang left, and Seviin hesitated for a moment, uncertainty in her eyes. Then, she reached for the Retanese as she had the others. "I will answer your question, Xiuyang Solari," she replied beatifically, but her hands trembled as she spoke. "The only way is death." Soothing energies worked their way through Xiuyang's body after those words. Did they feel any different than they should have?
"Yes, he said the same thing to me. From the sound of things... in the worst case, they may be... keeping him as an aberration generator." She squirmed at the notion. "We may need monsters, perhaps, but dark magic? ...I hate it," she confessed. "I've seen the VOID. Its secrets should be buried," she insisted, as one who had been swallowed by it during the Trials surely would.
She turned to look at what was left of the girl who, like her, had tried to play ringleader and paid the price. "She dealt dishonestly at every turn. I was going to give her the money, forge an escape route for them if that wasn't enough of a bargaining chip. I had a ship ready and everything. I showed her far more kindness than she deserved... but even she doesn't deserve this fate, Abdel. All of us are good people, some with a few issues... but that woman is different. Can you not feel it? How she hates the yasoi, and takes shots at the vulnerable and fleeing."
Then, there was Seviin, healing what Xiuyang could not herself. From the beginning, the preachy girl had been more useful than the pragmatic Rettanese expected her to be. Rather, had she been even the slightest bit preachy since this whole ordeal had started? Her presence had become almost soothing, even... ...and then, there was what she said. Xiuyang's blood turned a bit cold. She glanced at Abdel to see his reaction. "We... It's not that simple a matter. What are you suggesting?" she replied, still whispering. Her eyes were locked on to Seviin's, inquisitive, but not judging.
Seviin shook her head sadly. "Mother Oirase brings us all into the world with love." The burned faded from Xiuyang's skin. Surely, she'd have been able to heal these wounds herself, but the act of having another do it - another care for you - was somehow a better thing. "I am not saying that we should kill her, but for the way that she is, death is the only cure." She pulled her hands back and wiped a single small tear from her cheek, straightening. "That is the Gods-honest truth." She tilted her head in consideration. "For now, we must be a united front, not violent, but drawing a line against such abomination." She looked meaningfully at Abdel.
"...Right," she offered, unnerved all the same. Perhaps it was her own family's legacy, her own darker nature at play, but she could have sworn that it seemed as if Seviin wanted her to arrange for Dorothea's "accidental" death, somehow. Perhaps she was fishing for some trick Xiuyang may have had up her sleeve... and in truth, she had two more cards to play, but now didn't seem to be the time to lay them on the table. This entire venture with the Colas appeared to be a waste of time and effort, and it was time to end it. "Thank you," she hastily added. "I mean it."
"But your assurances do not reach your eyes," Seviin replied sadly. "I am sorry."
Many appeals to emotion, some reasonable, some Abdel took issue with. Seviin's intervention was sweetened with her thoughtful assistance in the healing process, but sentimentality wasn't something this young man was going to afford.
That said, the binary nature of their options didn't sit well with him. “She is a problem, but not one we should necessarily direct toward us. If anything, despite the alienation, this has been to our benefit.” he looked at the carnage that was happening, and chaos and destruction. “Well, sort of. Still, I'm of the mind that we finish this job and don't get on her bad side. Keep her as a boon.” very utilitarian of him, but the concern in his expression he tried hard, and failed, to keep cool sold out his own anxieties.
“As for the Cola woman ...” she sighed, annoyed at the fact that what he was going to propose may very well complicate everything. But, alas, Seviin's approach to thing left him feeling as though he owed some humanity to the moment. “We do have experts on the subject in our current cohort, do we not? The short ones from the desert. If anyone can rectify VOID-bound issues, it could be them.”
It was there that he sensed Dory execution. His gaze grew hollow.
“... Nevermind.”
Xiuyang's eyes widened, taken aback. "No, really! I know you care, and I trust your judgment. It's just... showing sincerity is hard, for me. No one trusts a Revidian, or a Rettanese." As if to prove her point, her eyes involuntarily averted themselves. "...Jamboi needs my help," she said hastily, taking off.
"As you say, Abdel Varga." Xiuyang had darted off, afraid of Shiin's truth, and it was the two of them alone. She watched him for an extended moment as Dory sliced the beast's head off, before turning to regard the developing situation there. She had no further words for him.
Location: Zengali - Mezegol Day of the week: Victendes Time: Evening Characters: Zarina, Biby, Horus, The Blue Beauty, Ayla, Taleja @Ti, Vuvu @dragonpiece, Leon @Jumbus
Like an orange blur, dusk had passed and made way for the clear, starry skies of Severa. Before she could regain some lucidity, Zarina found herself gawking at the burial ceremonies from afar, shoulder leaned against a tree and overall looking mightily suspicious. How did she get here? The details of it she could hardly recall, like a routine she had done a thousand times. But she was there, body restored but mind not quite whole.
Widows cried, men lost their bravado and children stayed strong from their hurting, singular parents if they didn’t join the mothers in anguish. It was like any other funeral, with the themes of the sea not unknown to the coastal girl. She owed it to the men that had lost their lives to be there, but she did not have the courage to, as an outsider, impose herself as the one who couldn’t have done more. She knew they wouldn’t see it that way, but it was a good excuse to save herself some more grief.
A smart decision, she had come to find, as all this time lost to an ailing mind had produced a most curious fruit, still fresh in the mind and intangible - begging to be made real. Inspired, and with the sounds of celebration in the horizon, Zarina had a mission.
One blue chicken. Twenty seven contestants. One Virangish. One little Hippoboi. One shadow.
Zarina stood among veterans and savvy locals, a fish quite literally out of water with a strange animal in her bag. In an act that resembled a certain degree of self-consciousness, she left the bag onto one of the many tables used by the people to share the many feasts shared for the event. There was a conspicuous bump inside of it.
“Winner gets the chicken?” she inquired with a lazy index finger pointed at the animal’s cage.
"That is right missy! But she is a favourite this year. Will you be bringing a team?" the young host inquired with immeasurable cheekiness.
Zarina shrugged. “I don’t think so, no.” her gold hues brushed through the many that had now taken the role of gawkers. “More glory alone, right?”
A wave of chuckles and snickers resonated in response.
"Courageous! You are taking the true gauntlet. Know you will have to do so without magic. Are you still ready?"
“Hmm? Oh yeah, sure.”
The other contesting didn’t stop in their condescension.
“Delusional foreigners again, the thresher has them all worked up up there.”
“Brave girl, heh heh.”
“Laugh all you want, we still have all these fools to deal with.”
Before long, they were all set to begin the game. Once the shot was fired and the panicked chicken unleashed, all sprinted, including Zarina. She was going to play the game like anyone else, there was no doubt about it.
Many frontliners already met some unfortunate accidents with their overzealous efforts to catch the unusually swift and rowdy avian. A couple already gave up after feeling the pressure from the over two dozen men and women. Zarina, looking to still be in some zoned-out state, simply stayed with the peloton. None had gotten too close yet. Not until a good six or so had blown off the event in favour of another opportunity opening.
The fat had been trimmed a little. And then the first incident occurred. A young and athletic woman just … Didn’t feel all that energetic anymore. Like she hadn’t slept all night. She nearly tripped! Eyelids heavy and calves a tad number, she opted to sit out. The same happened to some of the more aggressive runners.
Soon enough, Zarina was one of the more invested players by simply remaining content with her job. The mages sensed no real drawing from her form, or any participant either.
They were like flies. Eventually, only a few not-so-threatening obstacles remained, and of course the chicken. The lazulite avian she was keen on saving - none could doubt her reasons, as a Darhannic. Given that a few of the drowsy and worn out contestants were also aligned with such a goal, suspicion had no real direction. The chicken faltered too, barely able to flap its wings and scratch an unburdened Zarina from gently sweeping it into her arms in a maner that it quickly found a desire to roost.
A winner, one that many were unsure to celebrate for. Well, the contestants anyway, but the cheers of the audience that had been paying as much attention to their meals, ware and other events as the competition itself wailed with their vuvuzelas.
Chicken secured, back into a cage for the Virangish to claim. So too was another avian - a black one that had been hopping from rooftop to rooftop with a little something in its unusually dextrous wings.
"Zazzy Zazzy! I follow! FOLLOW!" rapid nods came from the pitch black monkeybird holding none other than Biby.
“You did a very good job, Horus.” praised the mildly content owner. Biby, on the other hand, was antsy and quickly hopped back into his portable bag-home, while Horus was allowed to visit a few colourful things before being brought back home for bedtime.
Zarina’s grand revelation brought her to the next destination: Vuvu. Few foreigners found value in these obnoxiously loud instruments. The Virangish was no different. But there was something they were good at: Being loud and far reaching.
A sack full of magi was dropped before the Vuvuzela queen. It prompted a curious set of blinks from the woman. Nearly a hundred of these coins! For vuvuzelas?!
"M-miss!" the great Vuvu, said to be quite the terror, was caught off guard. "If it is a joke, it is of bad taste! After a funeral, Stagfulaizah ahidi …"
“Not a joke.” said the teen with the regally blue chicken still in a cage held in one hand and a hipped sticking out of her bag over the opposite shoulder. She smiled. “I want as many as you can offer. And a carpenter. I definitely need a carpenter.” the way she talked, one would think monotone, but it was more so overly casual for the situation. Crazy was one’s first conclusion. Was this why so many had died?
Vuvu furrowed her eyebrows. "No. I don’t trust this money." she waved in dismissal.
“Why?” a confused Zarina tilted her head.
"It’s suspicious, and I have a reputation to maintain! What if others want a treasure from Vuvu? Eh? Today is not a day for greed."
“Vuvu.” Zarina spoke after a brief pause. “You will be the hero of Zengali. I know you will. Your Vuvuzelas are the key.” she spoke with conviction and a completely unflinching expression. “I need at least twenty. And-”
A finger rose for Vuvu to stand by and then it reached for the inside of her top - a leather jacket that resembled what many other sailors wore. Out came a black scale - or rather a fragment of one. One of a kind, unlike any dragon scale one had seen before, and Zengali had its fair share of exotic animal imports.
"Is this to, as they say, sweeten the deal?" a sceptical Vuvu regarded Zarina, wary.
“No. It’s my bail for your treasure.” the item was posed right by the bag for the woman to claim. “I will return it. You can keep my treasure.” a more expression look came to be, one that pleaded.
Vuvu reflected for a moment. What did she truly have to lose?
What is your favorite color? Silver. Do you prefer Silk or Cotton? Silk. If you could go on a date, would you prefer a lovely gondola ride while being serenaded by your lover or a simple seaside dinner under the light of the 5 moons? Seaside Gondola. Favorite part of yourself? My Eyes What must your partner have? Tenacity. And Humour. Available or closed? Closed right now. Even or odd? Even. Favorite fruit? Date. Valleys or Mountains? I like both. But Mountains. Lor or moons? And if moons, how many? Moons. Until Oraff blesses me.
A questionnaire was given, but attention was diverted to the sheer mass of popularity the Mbita and Chika service had garnered. Slow business, but good business. However, Zarina did not have all night. A breather was perhaps not the worst idea, and the fabric she was about to propose was going to be tactically used to usurp some attention.
Then appeared familiar faces. A blonde girl, one she had far too much fondness for despite the glaring flaws and warning signs. A distraction. A deterrent. And then there was another blonde, this one a man. A ghost, she felt almost. How? She did not know. Was she growing delusional? Was all this just some massive daze? Or did she die from the thresher attack?
The fabric initiative had to be delayed. A disruption in her unusually smooth plan. Where to next?
The chicken woke up. She could not think. A break was in order - an excuse to go back to her group’s retreat. There, she’d find Taleja, and ensure the cup had fallen into her scholastic hands. From there, the intellectual of the group could reinforce her theory. But the night was not over. There remained one more step to her operation.
For an established socialite and rumoured dancer, Zarina failed to deliver any sort of notable performance. The festival raged with energy and she partook enough to avoid ringing any concerning looks, but there was little excitement in this one's spirit. Monotone and distracted. Anxious, even. Information on the recent incident had spread with the memorial ceremony she felt obligated to attend. It was no surprise that, once she had found the boisterous Sun King between tents, hidden in plain sight, she lacked the distinct excitement many others were keen on showing off before the big day.
“On a scale of one to that Enthish girl you brought over, how anxious has tomorrow really got you?” was her opening, a clumsy attempt at humour. Clumsy due to the poorly veiled fact that it was actually genuine. “I'm not feeling any of it.” she confessed, arms crossed and handbag slightly squeezed to her side. Inside rested a hippo that curiously studied the performer's demeanour. Uninteresting, it concluded, a total lack of yum. It hid back in to nap.
“I'm not quite sure what to do once we actually do the job, either.” and with this second confession, a blue ribbon wrapped around her index finger emerged from her hand that had been previously tucked inside her elbow. “I've asked Ayla to join us, if you don't mind.”
Leon practically frolicked up to Zarina still buzzing off the night's events. "Zarina, I would pick 0. But I don't believe that was an option." It was an exaggeration but not entirely untrue. The actual threat of the Thresher was the furthest thing from his mind, a confidence fueled by lacking knowledge.
He extended a hand to offer Zarina to dance but she retracted a little. It was then he took noticed of her crossed arms and reserved posture, then difference between them was night and day. Leon knew Zarina to be strong of both ability and will, so whatever had got her like this was not to be ignored. His expression turned to concern for a friend.
He considered asking if she was alright, but she spoke with direction, he didn't want to deter her from it for now. "Of course I don't mind. It sounds like we three have a lot to discuss."
Ayla approached and wrapped her arms around Zarina, giving her tall friend a hug. “So, you are our big bad competition, eh?” she teased. “The amount of factional one-upmanship when we all share the same goal is ridiculous. How are they going to determine if it’s a Sovereign Pact cannonball or a Central Alliance one that scored the killing blow? And ultimately, does it even matter if the threat has been dealt with?”
She sighed and looked at the pair. “Enough of my ramblings. What is the goal of our discussion?”
Abdel, Dayanara, Qadira, Niallus, Oksana, Johann, the Yasoi 'Victims'
Abdel was on the literal scent of the finger's owner with both Dayanara and Qadira eagerly bobbing their heads up high to capture the fine traces of the unique stench just a few evaporated droplets could make. Although in truth they were using a combination of their advance snout and magic to make all this possible. A stop at the pseudo-pizza seller did not deter them, with Qadira growing ever more vigorous while Dayanara seemed completely but off by the treat.
The trail had led them to a better part of the town. Appearances mattered little to Abdel for the most sinister of people he had met were those that faded so easily in the crowds. The Skuggvars were growing restless, gurgling intensely at one house in particular. “Qadira.” he called out as he tossed a slice of pizza to pacify her for a moment while Dayanara's digestion issue siphoned her zeal quickly. “No doubt about it, the owner's in there.” he confirmed, arms crossed with his sharpened senses reaching into the building. “Found him. There are a few others inside, but ...” he bit his lip. “They don't seem like the typical thugs or even prepared for something like this.”
The Tethered pondered for a brief moment. “Trap or not, we have a lead.” he looked toward Oksana. “You're fast. Would you get ready to intercept in case they tried to flee from the back?” then, he focused on Johann with an expectant look and a mild smile. “I'd rather not bring the Skuggvars close to their doors. But an intimidating yet charming presence could help a skinny guy like me make an impression.” then finally he shot a glance at Niallus. “Niallus, ask the neighbors if they saw anything. You're friendly enough. Right?”
With a plan set after some input from the others, Abdel approached the door while the animals remained tethered a good few metres away and knocked.
Following the Skugvars to the destination. Passing through crowds that gave a wide berth, mostly so they did provoke the Skugvars. Conversations between people would pause, as they walked past then would continue once more. The merchant selling their trade, still continued. “I have some excellent wares if you fine, group of people interested in?” Niallus ignored what the merchant was selling, besides it was more likely to have been looted off some corpses during the revolution that happened a week ago.
The group decided to take a little stop to get something that was called, Buudvuud. Niallus had never had this before but from the aroma that it was emitting, it was worth a try. Niallus was the last of the group to order his Buudvuud. While thinking about what to have he asked the worker something simple. Face to face with this zit filled teenager. "Being the owner, you see a lot of interesting things here in the area?" the kid arched an eyebrow at the Eskands question. “Me? I'm not the owner.” His voice was nasally and drone. “I wasn't even supposed to work today.” His voice, getting a little annoyed about it. “The owner's younger brother was supposed to be in today, but he suddenly took a vacation, so the owner made me come in.”
The kid went back to Niallus’ question about anything interesting, he tilted his head. “What do you mean by anything interesting?” "Oh, It's just because I'm not from around here, that's all." letting out a warm smile. "Just wanted some insight of what to expect in this area and what to steer clear of. I don't want to cause trouble with my first visit." letting out a light chuckle. In response to the worker's answer, about him complaining about work. " Damn that sucks, so they've done this multiple times? Do you know the reason why?" The Kid started to get nervous as he quickly changed the subject “Are you going to order a Buudvuud or not?” [10:07 PM] Not wanting to push the matter, Niallus went back to ordering his Buudvuud. "Yes, sorry." Looking through, "I'll order that one." ordering the spicy one. As Niallus paid for his order he slipped a magnus to him, "That's to keep our conversation secret. Ok?" He quickly took and hid it on his person.
After a nice stop for food, even if Niallus’ Buudvuud was spicy. "Gods above, my mouth is on fire." walking through the residential area following the Skugvars. Some locals glared at Niallus and the group, he gave them a little wave, they stuck their middle finger up at him in return. "Charming…" He mumbled.
The group came to a stop at this house, "Why does this one look more run down than the others around?" He wondered. His attention went to Abdel as he asked him to talk to the neighbours. "Sure." He said walking off to one of the houses that was next to the one Abdel and Johann. Standing in front of the door, Niallus gave it a knock, before pausing. "Hello?" "Anyone home?"
Johann visibly swallowed. "Ah, yes, of course!" The hefty lad composed himself, straightened his collar, and knocked. He stepped back, lips pressed together in a smile, and waited.
And waited.
... and waited.
Clearing his throat again, he knocked a second time, more firmly, and reached out with his senses. "There are certainly people inside," he murmured, glancing at his peers amid the lack of response. "Surely we must either leave soon or else force the issue." He raised his hand to knock a third and final time.
Meanwhile, Niallus had encountered a bit more luck next door. A small human woman with a handful of grey streaks in her brown hair opened up. Immediately, she turned and peered over at what was happening in front of her neighbours' house, visibly recoiling at the sight of the dual hulking forms of the skuggvars there. "I should say, sir, if you're after them, then be after them, not my family."
She went to close the door, but his fingers were in the frame. Who could say if it was strategic. Immediately, he jerked his hand back, hissing in pain, and she was forced, by the rules of manners and decorum, to desist. "Now you've gone and gotten your fingers caught in my door," she huffed. "What is it, then? What do you wish to know? Those yasoi next door, they've only been here for a year and they've brought all sorts of trouble to this neighbourhood. I prefer to keep my nose out of it, you must understand." She shook her head. "Safer that way." She glanced anxiously back at the other door, just as matters there seemed about to transition.
Johann used magic to amplify his third knock, but none to give it additional strength. Nonetheless, it rattled the entire frame such that the door heaved on its hinges. "Huh. Don't know my own strength," the big fellow muttered and, behind him, the skuggvars gurgled and groaned in growing impatience, Dayanara sticking her snout right up against the door. Qadira let out something of a howl, though it was just as much a 'toot'.
From inside came movement, and raised voices in a yasoi tongue. Oksana moved into position expertly. Niallus and the neighbour he was speaking to looked over. Johann took a step back and started sneakily drawing energy. He was not alone in this pursuit.
Then, all at once, it opened. A tall, blonde yasoi woman, equal to the Kerreman in height, flung the door open. "You go my house!" she shouted in heavily-accented Avincian, gesturing angrily. "Have a two big animal." She drew back momentarily at the sight of the skuggvars, but seemed to recover quickly. "We..." She trailed off, struggling for a word, before scrunching her face up and mimicking a sleep gesture. "Sem'ayiir saluuv. You... taisuum we." She shook her head.
"Suuluun, ma'am, but this is important. Is there somebody - uh, yr soi - missing a finger - yr tic - here?" Johann gestured the cutting of a finger.
She straightened, radiating fear but also anger. "Yes! My man moila." She glared. "Selex duul... work. Now you go!" she demanded. "You go! Bad people. Aly jam'siin! Joixa ya'eth jam'siin. Nexa yaniixa! Pah! Nax vei joixa wiip suum poiret yr thiilo a'loi Sensii'lii pari!" It all came out rapid-fire in Mycormish, and there was a sense of frustration and disdain that was difficult to miss. She stood there, scowling, looking them up and down, and gestured for them to leave.
Johann turned to the others. "She is endeavouring to camouflage some matter," he announced in language that would fly above her head. "I am disinclined to acquiesce to her request."
Oksana found herself pairing up with Captain Skugvaar who had a finger on the pulse of the investigation, along with Little Johann, and Niallus Scarlet, accompanied by the two swamp dragons. Unable to pronounce their names, she settled on the merry monikers of Masha and Misha.
Deciding to keep her distance from the group, Oksana reasoned hanging back made sense as it made her look inconspicuous, rather than accompanying them directly as part of a motley crew. Besides, she could easily keep track of them, as they stood out like sore thumbs like this, with many people giving them a wide berth. Opting for a natural approach to gathering information, she engaged in routine inquiries while sought property in the area.
Her first stop was the Buudvuud restaurant. The aroma of the food assaulted her senses as she looked hungrily through the shutters at the wide selection before her. Her eyes settled on a juicy, cheese-filled parcel topped with melted cheese, oogling how the strands of between the slices stretched like long thin strings. The appearance and the smell definitely beat anything from Vossoriya as she bartered with the teen behind the counter using the Cheburashka Jamboi method of diligently counting out bennies in a slow manner until he was satisfied with the amount. Taking her prize, she eagerly took a big bite, only to find her mouth filled with steaming hot cheese, almost scalding herself if she hadn’t quickly drawn back. She blew gently on it as she devoured it outside the shop.
While eating, she noticed others looking in her direction, speaking in hushed tones. Originally thought it was about her, but soon realized they were addressing the shop. Approaching a nearby couple, she inquired about the food. Though not understanding their gestures entirely, she gathered that the shop was deemed unsavory. It seemed to be a bad place with bad people. Despite the service being decent, the teen boy was that not terrible, only greasy looking, she asked if there were alternative places she could visit in the future, but there was no such luck as they muttered something and left. It seemed this particular establishment had a monopoly on tasty cheesy slices.
Continuing her inquiries, Oksana asked about the local area, focusing on important details like whose palms needed greasing and who and where to watch out for. She encountered varying responses, from quiet reluctance to share information, to attempts to extract wealth from her. Some were stubborn in their stance, others were eager to express their opinions to an audience. A lot of locals expressed sentiments against refugees, a sentiment she had encountered before in her past, but noted they made it clear that she was more welcome than others, with comments like ‘knife-ears’ presumably directed at Yasoi. When attempting to speak to the yasoi, she found them less understanding and suspicious, but managed to tease out some names to watch out for due to recent negative experienced. A big player was the Rollers, a group of Yasoi who made a lot of dough, and renown for their beatings. With the indicated hand gestures, she assumed the name came from their rolling pins used in baking. They seemed to have a connection with a group called the Paws, a group of human animal lovers who behaved similarly to their namesake, known for being woof in their dealings. Across town, there were the Boozers, known for frequenting beer halls and causing trouble as they grew rowdy due to alcohol.
She discovered that the Flying Lion had a notorious reputation for various incidents recently, finding herself surprised as she couldn't recall any disturbances outside of her own bedroom whilst she stayed at the tavern. Delving deeper, she uncovered that the establishment had undergone a transformation, previously known as the Crying Lion before being acquired by the Arslan-Mercador company. Intriguingly, the confusion was because locals had taken it upon themselves to repurpose horse stables near the port, laying the stonewalls as a foundation for a new establishment painted in goluboy hues, aptly named the Cryin’ Cyan. Its proximity to the port allowed it to serve as a hub for backdoor activities, including under-the-table jobs and smuggling. It was also a hotbed of political activism amongst the yasoi, with some striving to amass funds to topple Tarlonese dominance, whilst those on the bottom rungs of society were only out for themselves.
During her investigation, Oksana was surprised to hear talk of Penny, her one-legged friend, as her incident during Mano e Mano challenge has led to urban myths that she is rumoured to be making visits to Belleville, allegedly for summoning aberrations over the town, including a recent large one at the tavern.
Eventually, she caught up with the others after receiving a tethered tug signal from Captain Skugvaar. They surrounded a property where the owner of the missing finger was located. Oksana suggested she could knock on the door with the finger and offer to bind it back on the hand, though her idea was not popular with the others. Instead, she was sent around the back of the building and to blend in, with the goal to catch any escapees by surprise. She followed the instructions, leaving negotiations to the experts in the motley crew.
Oksana, who had snuck around back of the property, was left with little to do but track the movements of the people inside through their energy signatures. Presently, however, she noticed a small silhouette appear in one of the windows. It was a child - a rather cross-looking child. She sat by the window pouting with her arms crossed until she noticed Oksana out there. Her eyes widened in fear and she appeared about to bolt.
Oksana didn't catch what the girl said, but she noticed the sadness reflected in her frosty expression. Offering a sympathetic smile, Oksana returned her focus to her task. She employed a touch of binding magic on the shrubbery, coaxing it to sprout little offshoots which she deftly snapped off with a pinch of kinetic magic. Using these, she began crafting a miniature home for the elk, fashioning the offshoots into trees and using frost to mimic the appearance of snow. As the elements came together, she created a charming scene. "My home," she said softly, gesturing proudly to the completed display.
The child was enraptured, watching Oksana build. "Wow, you're really good at magic." She tilted her head admiringly, holding back a question. "I guess you're from a really cold place." She blinked. "Do you go to Ersandenize?"
After pulling his hand away after it was trapped in the door. His pinky and the one next to it, started to swell. trying to move them hurt. His temper started to build, but he remained calm as he had a job to do. Taking a deep breath to calm down. Listening to what the woman had to say.
The pain in his fingers was still there but he didn't let it get to him. Then the door at the house the Skugvars led them opened. Looking at a Yasoi woman that stepped out, speaking in her Yasoi tongue. He tried to understand what she was trying to say. There was a moment when she mentioned something to do with the missing a finger. He leaned back to the woman who trapped his fingers "Has there been any other people who came knocking at their door recently?" He whispered. It was worth to ask.
Meanwhile, one door over, the neighbour who Niallus was speaking with snorted. "She's full of... garbage, you know." She shook her head judgmentally. "They made some deal with the knife-ear mafia and brought crime to our neighbourhood. Nobody likes them. We try not to show it in front of little Lalo." She pursed her lips. "She's a sweet girl. We'll see how long it takes before she becomes like the rest of them." She shook her head again, ruefully. "Awful business."
Listening to what the woman had to say, mostly about what they've done. The thing that piqued his interest, the Yasoi Mafia. "Well that explains the outside appearance of the house." He said with a low tone. He crossed his arms on his chest, catching his bruised finger, causing him to wince in pain.
There were a few other questions that Niallus wanted to ask her, turning his head back to the woman. Who was making her way back into her home. "I have one thing to say." He kept close to the door, not putting his fingers on the door in case she slammed it once more. "While it's good that you and the other neighbours are doing for the girl is sweet." "As for the rest of them. They probably have their reasons for that deal." Niallus wondered if he was being a little naive with where he was going with this, but still.
"Sometimes families do the wrong things, for the right reasons. Their reason could be for that little girl." ”I'd have done the same if I was in their situation, wouldn't you?" He simply asks before leaving, to stand with the others. "Johann, do think you can fix my fingers?"
It was at this moment that Abdel cursed the split they had decided upon. Tunnel-visioned by the easy trail he had found, he did not point out such an obvious flaw. They did not have a Yasoi, or at least some sort of translator. This already started off badly. He pursed his lips as his eyes met Johann's, and then he stepped forward.
“Oira suunei!” the teen had done his best to imitate Ashon or one of those Tarlonese visitors. Along with a smile that fit well with his still not quite matured face, what could go wrong? “Uhhh, suuluun suuluun,” he waved his hands at the direction of the Skuggvars, directly telling them to back off a tad. “For protection and to help find your man.” he nodded at both her and his King-sized accomplice. “Not bad! Want to help you.” with that he made a gesture to best indicate a finger coming back into place, started with the severing and then the reversal of the act.
Abdel's grin widened just a little. “Help ALL of you. We are good people. And we find the very bad people.”
The woman narrowed her eyes in annoyance. "I... thank you help." Her bearing was defensive and suspicious. Those standing closest to the door might've seen a young girl - perhaps eight or nine years old - peer curiously down from the stairs to the second floor. "No bad people. My man moila -"
"Uncle Harlan!" interjected the child's voice, and the woman whirled. "He got his finger -"
"Lalomen, tuu'yaasa! Senii!"
She turned back to them as the girl gave a sour look and rolled her eyes, making a show of trudging up the stairs slowly. "He... hurt in work. No bad people."
Meanwhile, one door over, the neighbour who Niallus was speaking with snorted. "She's full of... garbage, you know." She shook her head judgmentally. "They made some deal with the knife-ear mafia and brought crime to our neighbourhood. Nobody likes them. We try not to show it in front of little Lalo." She pursed her lips. "She's a sweet girl. We'll see how long it takes before she becomes like the rest of them." She shook her head again, ruefully. "Awful business."
Oksana, who had snuck around back of the property, was left with little to do but track the movements of the people inside through their energy signatures. Presently, however, she noticed a small silhouette appear in one of the windows. It was a child - a rather cross-looking child. She sat by the window pouting with her arms crossed until she noticed Oksana out there. Her eyes widened in fear and she appeared about to bolt.
Abdel shot a jolly smile at the child. It seemed there was at least someone who could communicate. “No bad people. Yes.” he gestured in a pacifying manner and mirrored the woman's broken Avincian as a means to level with her and keep things simple. “We good. We help good people.” he nodded before turning his head toward Johann. “You've got the finger, right? We could get that Seviin girl to treat the uncle. She's a cut above us with those magics.” he uttered with proper intonation and speed that would have been hard for the foreigner to fully grasp.
“We fix your brother-in-law,” he made sure to utter every syllable as to put an end to the broken 'man moila' phrase. “no pay. No money. Only talk. Okay?”
"You... wex'duuz he finger?" (1) She narrowed her eyes in both curiosity and wariness. "You no have this. How you do?"
"I could tell them what you saaaayyy!" came an insistent little voice from somewhere else in the house. "But you won't let me!"
Whatever else might've been said in the background was lost when, suddenly, there was a man at the door. "My daughter," he grunted in heavily-accented Avincian. "Spoil, I think you say. You here about my brother, yes," he continued. "He lose the finger at work. You are binder?" He looked them up and down. "Why binder have skuugvar two?"
Johann glanced over at Abdel as if to say, "Should I?" It was clear only by context that he was speaking of the finger, and pulling it out.
“To find the owner of the finger.” answered Abdel as cordial as he could after patiently waiting for the family to get itself in order. He did not insist on having the best speaker among the family to step up - he knew better than to put kids in such positions. “And protection. We're not oblivious to the interests that prowl these streets, sir.” hands behind his back, the teen kept himself stiff and proper whilst his sharpened senses frisked the minute details of his surroundings. Did anything appear unusual beyond the family's secrecy?
“That said, the longer we wait, the harder the work would be. And our best binder can only do so much.” he shrugged his shoulders whilst Dayanara grunted in growing impatience. “As promised, we don't expect monetary or material payment.” his head then turned to the unit of a man by him and shook his head. 'Not yet.' he mouthed. He did not want to risk spooking them just yet.
Both Skuggvars began to bob their heads and flemming at the intense smell they had been tracking all along once the 'uncle' had shown himself. Abdel took a quick look at the hand and then gestured for the other, healthy one to show itself too. In the meantime, he also nodded toward Johann to show the finger in order to compare it to the remaining counterpart. With a match, they would have confirmation of what they were looking for. “Doing our job.” he answered frankly to the complying Yasoi man.
“Someone is missing - a young Yasoi man.” he added. “And your finger was used as proof of a kidnapping.” Abdel spoke solemnly and lowly, as to not alert the children or cause a scene. “Tell me where the young man is and we'll not only forget all of this, but we will help with your finger as we said. Otherwise, you're now an accessory to kidnapping and ransoming.”
Next door, another mostly one way conversation was taking place, as the middle-aged woman regarded the teenage boy who lectured her on morality. "Well aren't you just setting yourself up wonderfully for all five heavens?" she remarked, crossing her arms. She reached out and patted one of his. "Good for you." It was naught but two more seconds before she closed the door, and with some force.
Niallus quickly found his way back to the others in the wake of Abdel's threat and they were perhaps a bit busy. Both men's eyes snapped to the finger, but any gratitude they might've felt was superseded by a mixture of fear and anger. These humans had come to their door with two vicious animals and a severed finger, hammering on it in the middle of sem'ayiir saluuv until they'd had no choice but to open, and now there were others, evidently surrounding their house. Now there were strange threats and blackmail. They never should have opened!
"Harlan, Achem wiip wes eluu pa yanii ya. Juup joi?"
The younger one, eyes afraid, shook his head. "Harlan naja nax wiip, moila. Nax ya suuluun."
"Eluumen, ya yelost juu Achem."
The woman was already backing away, her face a mask of horror and confusion. "Eluumen wiip wes. Yelost, nax wiip wes. Pelosh tiij toil tox pa Colas. Ela teiyix tiij pox'em Harlan'ii tic?"
"One momen." Achem managed a shaky smile to try to reassure his visitors, but all three yasoi were drawing energy. It was clear that he was thinking, putting pieces together. "Nax'a lesaal. Pa oilanax a luum'o oft. Tiij ynast oap'it a. Senii, tiij yim fuu." He breathed in and out. "Se luum'ii teluu rey yash. Achem vith'it joixé."
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Johann interjected. "Nobody needs to protect anybody. We just need to know about the boy: the missing boy." Eluumen was already running.
"I'm Lalomen. How about you?" the girl was asking, the door having opened a crack wider. Then, before Oksana could answer, it slammed shut and the child stumbled back, alarmed. A yasoi woman hurtled into view, radiating fear with each step. "Malo! Pathiir yil elaz!" She scooped the girl up. "Tuum'a dax. Tuum'a toil tox pa Colas!"
Lalomen looked upon Oksana with horror as her mother spirited her away. Then, the woman stopped, realizing that she was surrounded. The enemy was at the front door and had snuck around the back, trying to bait her child. "Mama, elei'ya weix?"
She was placed on the ground. "Malo'semprii, pa Colas el'liic pa yaniixa. Eluumen seldii tuum muul luum'o ilac rey nax seldii tuum duun'it juu stiip joila aluu rey moi'aluu."
The girl was panicking, crying. "Mama..."
"Yax elden, semprii." She whirled, drawing to capacity, and turned her fury on this woman who had come to harm her daughter. "Mama westa'l pa dax lelan. Joi yash juu let'o doin dain. Eluumen felix'al joi duul zoap stii."
At the front, Achem's face hardened. "You lying piece of Cola shit." Beside him, Harlan was less resolute. "You bring back his finger like fucking insult, invent some lie for blackmail us again! You say I'm criminal!?" He stalked forward, brimming with energy, despite the presence of the skuggvars.
"We're saying nothing like that!" Johann tried to assure him, "But this finger was found in a ransom note and it's his! We want to know how."
"I tell you how: you fucking get it from Colas who pay you to come fuck me some more, oh but use nice yanii words and say you help."
"Sir, I don't even know -"
"I spit on you. I spit on your family. I spit on your bird. What the fuck you want now!? Maybe an arm this time? A leg? You come with your lies. You threaten my fucking family!?" he roared. "No more!"
There was zero hesitation or restraint, and Johann dived out of the way. Achem launched a full-power arcane lance right for Abdel's head, the intent to decapitate him.
Colas. Well there was their confirmation. Now, the fallout.
“Colas? You think we're Colas?” sneered Abdel whilst the Skuggvars began to growl and grow restless as they felt the energy gathering. Abdel wasn't going to be defenseless and he drew at a speed far surpassing all others. “Those lowlife thugs could barely even afford one Skuggvar.”
When a lance was trained right at his direction, he stood stiff, eyes adamantly fixed onto his attacker. He raised his hands in surrender. “We're not Colas. We're investigators. And students of the school. Consider what you're doing, and what it will mean for your family if you kill one of us. Please.” he kept it cool, even if it was all a facade. His heart was racing just as much as it had when he was holding Tojarra back. “We just want to know where they conduct their uglier business! And find the Doridax kid.”
That said, he wasn't truly surrendering. With no signs of these Yasoi's lowering their hostilities, he was keen on using his signature spell.
Achem did not care in the slightest for what this Cola lackey had to say. He just needed to buy Eluumen enough time to escape with Malo. Always it was something with these thugs: some sort of excuse to worm their way back into his family's lives and take from them again. Truly, he now knew that they'd never be free. The nerve of sending huusoi with his brother's severed finger and the ridiculous invention that somehow he had been complicit in kidnapping a boy!
He had spoken too much and the element of surprise had been lost. As much as he wanted to obliterate these yanii and their lying placating faces, the smarter play was to stall them. Surely, he would take a savage beating and... perhaps worse, but his wife and daughter could get away. They could start fresh. Oh how he regretted ever working with these thugs. With the politicals controlling everything and directing yasoi only to businesses that donated to their cause, it had seemed the only option. He was glad to be away from Mycormii and from Oiyac before it! Let those places burn! They had failed their people. The yasoi had become too sedentary. Let them spread across the world, travel, and grow, as they once had!
His arcane lance missed, shooting off into the sky instead, just in case because it would buy more time. "You lie! The Colas pay you. They gived you this finger so you have story to tell. So you you can say we are criminal!"
"They take for pay, they say!" Harlan chimed in, eyes wide and bugged out. "Alway, they make us to pay them."
"Them or fucking resistance," growled Achem. "Who you work for, you come my house and all around and call me criminal? How much they are pay you?"
He reached out with his senses as he felt a flare of energy. At the back of the house, Eluumen had just blasted the woman the Colas had sent to snatch his daughter. He used the Gift to tap his brother's neck in a specific pattern. Harlan would know what it meant: help them.
With this escalation, trying to get them to calm down might be a little bit difficult when one drew in to throw an Arcane Lance, seeing that it was a missed shot. "Dii Colas, dii Resistance. Ersand'Enise, dii fuu." He spoke in a broken tone. Yasoi wasn't his best, but it was worth a try.
Abdel flinched at the firing of the lance, even if it was a warning shot. The Skuggvars were ready to charge as they roared in fury after hostilities were made clear after the attack. “Fucker.” the teen scoffed. “I just said it was the Doridax you daft ...”
Talking appearing increasingly pointless and Niallus' redundancy wasn't going to change anything either. Action had to be taken, and he would have if it wasn't for Dayanara's charging right for the entrance. “Shit! Johann!” he warned, and trained his intention to cast Commandment on his own beast instead.
They couldn't say what had done it: the purposely missed arcane lance, Niallus' attempts to placate, the skuggvar's attempt to attack, or Abdel's refocusing on it. Regardless of what it might've been, Achem took a step back and Harlan stood there, brimming with energy but not intent. "If you really Ersandenise, then I tell you Cola Brotherax come here. Make us pay money for 'protect'. They cut my brother finger when we have not enough. Maybe they use for this 'Doridax'. I don't fucking know or care. Now you yash duul spax and leaf my family!" (1)
"If you good what you say, you go!" Harlan chimed in. "We tell you all. Go fight Colas, not us!"
Oksana, meanwhile, was dealing with a somewhat different sort of threat.
Oksana focused intently on the girl's lips, trying to follow her words. She tapped her ear and offered a smile. "Me Deaf," she explained, gesturing to herself. "Yes, cold place, Vossoriya. Lot of snow. Brrrr!" She mimicked shivering, wrapping her arms around herself. "From St Yuri, come to Ersandrise, seek to refuge. Bad people at home, fled them." With gentle hands, she moved the elk out of the scene and away from the snow.
There was a sudden burst of panic, as the mother seemed to scoop up the daughter as the conversation continued in another language, Oksana remained attentive, though she couldn't understand the words. One term caught her attention, the Rollers. She glanced around, scanning the area as if on guard. "Rollers bad, they take dough and beat. Stay away from Rollers," she warned, looking toward the pair. Pointing at the sad face in the frost, she added, "No cry, we brave."
Oksana swung her cloak around like a makeshift shield, freezing it and reinforcing it with her own kinetic magic. The shield's shape deflected the gust of wind around her as she crouched behind it. "shcho za diavol," she exclaimed loudly, followed by a rapid-fire response of "Ne vykorystovuyte taku nebezpechnu mahiyu, khtos' mozhе postrazyaty." She paused for a moment, gathering her senses. "Stop! No hurt to people." Lowering the cloak so her eyes could peer over it, she observed the situation more closely, checking to see if anyone was caught in the crossfire.
She'd been pushed back a bit, past the yard an through the fence, and the yasoi woman had rushed out to occupy that space, interposing herself between Oksana and Lalomen. The little girl came scurrying out and ran past, into an alley. "You no hurt me girl!" the mother screamed. "You fuck off!" She gathered energy for a blinding blast of light.
It seemed that Oksana had stumbled upon an angry parent, and she was no stranger to dealing with such situations and their overprotective nature. She couldn't fathom even laying a finger on the girl; if anything, she would protect the girl herself if the situation warranted it. All she could imagine was that the boys had somehow messed up, and now there was an overly defensive family involved. Knowing when to withdraw, she realized there was no role for her here.
"No harm, I'll leave," she said, ducking behind cover as she sensed tension rising again, slowly stepping backward under her cloak away from the property. "Just misunderstandings here." She had no appetite for a fight, but the same couldn't be said for the other party; she knew she would need to keep her guard up.
Abdel, after wrestling his Skuggvar with sheer will, shot a glare at Harlan in particular.
“Where do you find them?” his voice deep and his demeanor immovable. “You want this?” he raised the severed finger. “You'll only get our binder's help if you help us. How many are there? How do they work? WHERE are their hideouts?”
The Skuggvar, while placated, was dangerous close to the house and rumbling like the dying Lorantine Queen.
The finger had been severed days ago and was, effectively, unsalvageable, nor had Abdel, Johann, Niallus, or Oksana given the slightest indication that they were anything other than home invaders with a flimsy excuse backing an attempt at some kind of blackmail, much less people capable of healing a complex wound. The simple fact of the matter, however, was that they could easily overpower Achem and Harlan, and both parties knew it. The two might've given in easily and told the Biros the next-to-nothing that they knew had their pride not been pricked by the brazenness of this daytime assault.
"You want make your animal attack us? Because we yasoi all same to you. All bad. All know the other. You come, then. I can't stop you. Steal what you want," he pronounced bitterly, "then you go. I say nothing for people who come my house call me criminal. Say I take some boy." He spat at their feet. It was clear that he was deeply embittered and not about to speak. Harlan's eyes flicked back and forth between the invaders and his brother. "We know nothing, just they come - maybe four - we house or we restaurant, but they is more. They take our money, they go. We not have, they take other thing." He held up his hand. "But you ya like Colas or more bad. Much yanii are. I live with no one finger so I remember this."
Johann turned politely to Niallus, then. "I think we need a new approach to this situation," he decided, taking in Abdel as well. "From their perspective, we're four random non-locals who showed up pounding on their door with a pair of skuggvars, interrogated their neighbours, and snuck around back of their home. We've now shown them the severed finger of one of their family members that they last saw taken by gangsters and accused them of being complicit in criminal activity. We've given them no reason to cooperate except fear and, even then, we've failed to pull the trigger." He regarded Niallus again. "Niallus, might you step back from this situation, perhaps go check on Oksana and make certain that nothing drastic has happened there?"
He shot Abdel a look as if to say, "trust me on this one". "Partner, perhaps the animals need to be removed from such a stimulus, even if only for a moment." Then, he faced the pair of yasoi and spread his arms nonconfrontationally. "I promise we are not here to steal from you. See? They are stepping back." he paired it with an appropriate gesture.
Oksana, meanwhile, had recognized that something had gone very wrong. The girl's mother stood there, brimming with energy and shouting at her to leave in yasoi as she backed off. It had all been a misunderstanding: a terrible misunderstanding. The child ran. She ran out of view of her cautiously-advancing mother. She ran and then, suddenly, she tripped and fell. She landed hard on the ground and she did not rise.
Oksana blinked in shock as she saw the little girl on the floor, not moving. What kind of cruelty is this? She cursed under her breath, “Zvernit' uvahu na dytinu,” she stood up, pointing towards where the little girl lay. “Girl hurt!”
A little girl getting hurt on her watch was unforgivable. There were a couple of ways to deal with this, but only a big gesture would probably work. She raised her hands in a surrender posture as she indicated again. “Binder. Girl safety first, I'll go.” There was also a plan B, but she hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Abdel exhaled in frustration. It was infuriating having to communicate and compromise when one could simply decide. His better nature kept him from making that leap, as did his experience, but still. The words these locals chose and how they conveniently decided to frame this earned them little sympathy from the teen.
He shot look at Johann and crossed his arms. “Fine.” he answered, forcing more petulence into his voice than he normally ever would before gesturing his beasts to retreat. Not completely gone, but they were being semi-piloted around the corner where they could catch the scent of the buudvuud and wander curiously.
The girl's mother cried out and began running there. She made no move to stop Oksana, for she had sensed no draw from her: nothing that could've caused her daughter's mishap, and she knew the word 'binder'. It was a major leap of faith on her part. When Oksana got there, it was unclear what had happened. The girl had fallen as if her foot had caught on something, and her hands had failed to shoot out and stop her fall. She had gone unconscious on impact with the ground due to head trauma.
Meanwhile, Johann breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, really," he replied, as the other two began to retreat. "And please don't be alarmed if you sense some energetic drawing. I will be attempting a medical procedure." He waited until they were gone and then he drew to his full capacity. Both of the yasoi grimaced, and Harlan dropped to his knees, trying not to heave. "Oh my Oraff! I'm so sorry," exclaimed Johann, and he hurried over to lay a hand each on the struggling brothers.
Harlan slumped. Achem froze in confusion. Johann leaned in and spoke quietly in Mycormish. "Tesh hyco teluu joi jex elaz, cip et thei sa. Nash'elar ya tox et senii. Luum thust'al etii luuch hyco luur duul ix lai ol joi wiip yim nash ezei'siilan joi wes sil pa Colas, joi thoil-yanii do-siilan: ela tuum tai, eloi tuum a yil, elei tuum nar, eloi tuum pen rey tiin, elo tuum spax. Ol joi stiip nash, nash dii roi'it pa tuur'yim juu yim et juu oap. Pelosh, nax suum juup'it ap nax'patash. Juup joi poiret nash?" he paused, starting to draw back. "Senii, joi etaar, luuca? Joi yim do'siilan duul pa, luuca?" He smiled and patted the man on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, but he'll be completely okay and... it's better if he's asleep for this part, luuca?"
A dozen emotions flashed across Achem's face. Then, he hung his head and began crying. "L... luuca," he sniffed, nodding slowly. Johann's face seemed to soften. "I know it isn't easy," he replied, "but thank you and, remember, I need everything or this won't work."
He squeezed Achem's shoulder and it all began to spill out: how he held no love for the governments of Mycormii and Oiyac, how the resistance operated like a gang among the refugees and had blacklisted his business because he refused to donate some of his profits to their cause, how he had turned to the Colas in desperation and how they had wored to counter the resistance. He hadn't wanted to do ill, he sobbed. He hadn't known how bad they'd be. He hadn't counted on word getting out and people pulling their business. They hadn't been able to pay. Four Colas: an enormous fat one named Daiyet, an angry young ginger one named Fantas, a pretty slinky woman with bright red hair named Cherii, and the ringleader: Pepsii, who was the smartest of the bunch: ruthless, cruel and - he'd sensed - conflicted on some level. They never gave away their exact base of operations, but it was in an area quite close to the warehouse that had been mentioned in the ransom note, Johann noted. They weren't ideological, Achem was pretty sure. They were only in it for the money, just like the Doridaxes had the reputation of being, though there were rumours that, recently, they'd been channeling funds towards the resistance. That was, the yasoi swore, all that he knew, on Shiin's holy name.
With that, Johann stepped back and breathed. He bowed his head gratefully. "Thank you so very much," he replied, "And I'm sorry for that mess. I believe that we understand each other better now, though." He strode over to the unconscious Harlan, reached out, and, with all of his expertise in Binding and Blood, began to wind the flesh together. He filled the young man with energy and Harlan rose in astonishment.
Dayanara required a tad more tugging - actual, physically tugging and not the gift. He could only manipulate them so much without assuming direct control, and potentially hurting the beasts. This whole job wasn't worth some of his best assets. With that, Abdel was gone from the premises for just a minute to tie the animals where they could be distracted by alluring scents.
On his return, scarce few words had slipped by the fences that separated properties. He had only bothered to sense whether hostilities continued, and by the looks of it the Kerreman fat guy had executed his plan. Abdel was impressed if not a tad curious as to what he had said. He also wondered why the more eloquent Mycormish had to wait until now. Or maybe the bit he caught was all that Johann could muster. Truthfully, after the headache this conundrum had become, he had no desire to doubt his associate. The job was done, with all the information spilling right before him as he arrived.
“Impressive.” a merrier Abdel gave a couple of ceremonious claps to Johann before flashing a smile and nodding at the two distressed men. “We appreciate the cooperation. Next time,” her pursed his lips and shook his head. “remember, we're here to help. We're just getting a grip on the refugee issue.” with that, he provided a friendly wave to the family before nodding Johann's way. “We've got our leads. Let's pay these Colas a visit before they haul somewhere else. I can imagine word spreading quickly here.”
After listening to what Johann mentioned, he agreed. They could have approached this with more care. Instead they decided to throw chaos into this matter. "Yes, we kinda made a mess of this." letting out a small sigh in frustration.
When Johann asked him to check up on Oksana, Niallus nodded "I'll get her, hopefully she hasn't got into too much trouble." once outside, he walked off into the direction where Oksana went.
Upon arriving. It seems a lot had happen, he didn't want to jump to conclusions. Standing next to the Girls mother, "We are about to go."he said to her politly. Then asked her, "What can you tell me aboutthe resistance?"
Once the mother had backed down, Oksana swiftly approached, her heart racing with concern. She carefully tended to the child, giving her a once-over before moving her into a more suitable position for a thorough inspection. There was a clear graze on the head, bleeding profusely from where she had hit it hard against a stone. With gentle hands, Oksana applied a cloth to the wound, then began using her binding magic to seal it. This was the easy part; the face tended to bleed a lot, but it was the risk of concussion that concerned her most. She began to reduce the swelling, little by little, taking her time to ensure the best outcome.
Anxiously, the mother watched as Oksana tended to her daughter. Did her rage cause this? Had she neglected her precious little girl? Her mind was flooded with thoughts and doubts. Suddenly, she sensed a presence behind her, and instinctively went to cover her ear, her fear palpable. Whirling around, she spotted Niallius approaching from the side of the house. Acting on instinct, she positioned herself between him and her daughter, a mix of protectiveness for her child and silent pleading in her eyes. Though his words were foreign to her, she understood the meaning of resistance. “Velluum! Yim joi ezei,” she responded, her voice trembling. “Ilac’se mitoip fo hax’olop vel. Temoip’hoam seno stiip. Dax’aspaa qeil’pol. Poiret?”
Meanwhile, Oksana finished her ministrations and breathed a sigh of relief. Turning her attention to Niallius and the mother, she noticed the woman looking intimidated. Furrowing her brow at Niallius, she silently questioned his actions. Gathering the sleeping child in her arms, Oksana approached the mother and gently presented the girl to her. “Girl sleep,” she gestured, pressing her hands together against the side of her head. Overwhelmed with emotion, the mother sobbed as she cradled her baby girl, covering her face in kisses and muttering softly in the yasoi language.
With a tug on Niallius's shoulder, Oksana led him away. “Don’t be bad,” she urged quietly, hoping to diffuse any tension that lingered in the air by leading him away.
In the event, neither Niallus nor Oksana understood much of anything that had been said, but they would soon enough be filled in by Johann and Abdel. The true nature of the resistance, this family's devil's bargain with the Cola Brothers, the thugs' names, and a rough location of their base of operations - close to the warehouse they'd been directed to in the first place, and some dirt on the Doridaxes: it all came out.
Eluumen scurried in through the back door, having managed a small, vaguely grateful nod in Oksana's direction and a fearful look in Niallus'. Lalo looked back with wide eyes and managed a shy little wave goodbye at the Vossoriyan.
"I'm sorry for my deception," Johann said, as they were walking away. He tried to take care to look mostly at Oksana so that she could read his lips even though he was primarily addressing Abdel. "I had doubts about the plan but you all seemed to gung-ho." He shrugged and grimaced. "I figured they weren't going to talk to us openly, so I wanted to hide the level of Mycormish I understood in the hopes they'd give something away in talking with each other." He nodded slowly as they turned a corner, leaving that area of the town. "Turns out that they did and it gave me an avenue in through empathizing and telling a couple of white lies."
It was not long before they were close to where they had started, the skuggvars now sniffing out the other group. "I do think that the resistance bears investigating," Johann added, "and this one-legged woman." He shook his head. "Reshta's name, they're everywhere, aren't they?"
After the events that happened with Oksana, Eluumen and her daughter. He somewhat understood Eluumen answer to his question. How they suffer the consequences if you don't pay enough, they hurt you. Proof was that severed finger. After this he was going to brush up on his Mycromish.
"It's fine Johann. You managed to salvage the chaos that we caused." giving him a pat on the back. "Maybe these Colas have some information that can help us when investigatingthe Resistance." Niallus added, "But I don't think it will be that easy, so it'll be best to focus on finding the Colas base first."
Location: Zengali - Mezegol Day of the week: Victendes Time: Daytime -> Late Afternoon Characters: Zarina, Biby, Penny @Force and Fury, Rikard, Yvain @jasbraq, Taleja @Ti, Guy @dragonpiece, Keanjaho, the rowing crew.
She had to admit, being a stowaway was not as adventurous as she had imagined. Eternally would Zarina be grateful of her progress with temporal magic after pinching a nerve of the hammock she had to make due within the cargo hold. Still, it was a bonding experience with the group of dregs she was with, and of course Biby the House Hippo that seldom left the confines of her messenger bag she had organised just for him. His head occasionally popped out of the pet-opening to sniff about and yawn before retreating back inside.
On the occasions where Zarina had free time, she shot a glance at both correspondences she had been given. One was straightforward and the object of most of her pondering while the other held a more cryptic message, one surrounded by easy enigmas but ushered in moral choices she did not expect out of a mere animal control operation. Although then again, you never knew with the powers that be.
Once they had arrived, introductions were in order. Appearing a tad blasé, like she had been in a ship for a bit too long, the dishevelled Virangish raised her hand. "A pleasure, Brother. Zarina. The Water Bug Connoisseur." she tapped her own chest and then gestured to the little head that emerged from the partially opened bag like a handbag dog. "And this is Biby. No doubt a key to my success strategy." she flashed a cheeky grin with her eyes still half-lidded.
The bright light of day hit hard, prompting her to raise her hand and shield her eyes. "Busy." her barely opened eyes scrutinised the port she laid her feet upon. "And familiar." she remarked in a distinct lack of surprise as she saw the other group of students - most notably Ayla and Leon.
Before they would stray for ‘preparations’, the beastmaster turned to her group. "A few hours aren’t a lot, and we know better than to just blast the bug." she looked briefly to the side where coastal lines spanned with walls of stone and green continued on without any human interference. "First thing’s first, we’ll need a place to trap the thing that isn’t, well, here. And not in deep waters. It’s not only more dangerous in its element but we’ll have a hard time keeping it in place if we do manage to immobilise it." she rubbed her chin as she continued to muse their situation. "Someone that can be useful in that ailing camp could get information on the attack.” her attention briefly jumped toward the conspicuous pirate ship and her crew. "These less than savoury folks probably have a tale or ten to share. It wouldn’t hurt to buddy up with the sailors we’ll be working with either, if anyone’s feeling it. Especially if other interests are involved here."
Zarina looked up the cliffside to notice the lord’s home that stood out among the architectures. "It would be wise for us to make our presences known and pitch a plan to those that hired us." she chuckled before glancing at her colleagues with a smirk. Biby yawned whilst looking their way as well. "Anyone feeling like they could represent the group? Or should I have the honours?"
"We hustle, then we reconnoitre during that festival, mmkay?"
Penny realized that she was standing quite aimlessly in the midst of her evaluations. She shrugged and shook her head to clear it. "Right, well I suppose I should follow her lead," she concluded. "It's rather a walk out to that ship." With a polite nod and a smile, she took her leave. "I shall reconnoiter with you all in a handful of hours, by the large disturbingly phallic statue in the square, no?" With that, she was off.
Zarina gestured toward the pirate ship in agreement as Penny offered herself up to handle it. “If you need backup,” she peered over toward Rikard. “we can always have the titan killer himself, Rikard, stay nearby.” she winked his way, recalling the visions of him slaying grand demons and taking on Tojarra himself. A free electron, to be sure, but an effective one.
Her head then shifted to the other side with Yvain being suggested for the meet. “Ah.” the Virangish crossed her arms while Biby's head poked out. “Right.” her scowl wasn't stifled whatsoever, her disdain very clear from the mere aura she projected. “Do you think yourself capable of speaking for us, Berbignon?” she nudged her chin to expectation of a response.
“Well, then again, risking that boat suddenly exploding would be a pretty bad start anyway.”
Yvain felt the utter disdain of the Virangish woman fall upon him. Multiple different responses ran through his mind, running from How dare this merchant scowl at me? to a apology. With a heavy sigh, he tried to wash the filthy disdain from his mind. "I will speak in the interest of the Sovereign pact." He scoffed. Looking at Zarina with his signature shit-eating grin he nearly lost. "But back to the question of being capability."
His grin turned to a sour expression. "There is a high chance your friends are your opponents in this task, so to let me ask you this.. . . Will you let that cloud your judgement? Will you work in the interest of Virang and the Sovereign pact as a whole?"
Zarina cocked a brow and studied Yvain's demeanour briefly. A challenging look soon clashed with his. “I'll get the job done right. Preferably with most of us alive.” she answered, arms crossed and posture adamant. “So we got a speaker for us. Then I'll go check on that boat and the coast. Hells, I'll see if I can scout out the hot zone, even.
Yvain clapped his hands together and smiled. "I'm glad we are on the same page here. I'd rather not get violent with the others either." He tried to picture the Virangish with a smile as well but all he could picture is disdain and annoyance. "I am not your enemy, miss Al-Nader. If you need assistance, I shall offer my help."
As Zarina made it to the rowboat, she was greeted with the sight of many strongmen loading the last crates of supplies on a rowboat. All of them seemed friendly, nothing but smiles and they ended up directing her to the captain of this small voyage. A tall, rotund man dressed in beautiful clothing and jewellery.
He was smoking a pipe and seemed generally jolly. He was staring at the sea with childlike amusement of his little journey. One of the men called out that they had a fine looking guest. He bounded over, tripping over some oars to eventually get to his new shipmate.
"Hello! Welcome! Salutation young lady, what can Keanjaho do for you today?"
An airborne Zarina descended with considerable meticulousness onto the small empty space she could find on the rowboat. Even after over a year of practice, tight landings were always tricky it seemed as her arrival came with a light rocking of the vessel.
“Salam brothers and sir Kee-nej-ajo.” she waved in their general direction and nodded curtly. “My name is Zarina, and I’m studying local wildlife.” she flashed a reassuring smile at all of them while Biby eyed the unknown factors from the hole in the bag. “And according to my findings, you lot are rowing into dangerous waters. Very dangerous. May I ask why?”
"A pleasure to meet you! You look Virangish no? I have many friends from Virang," he waved over to one of the men to bring some stuff over, somewhat listening making small gestures to make sure Zarina knew he was. A table was whisked in and 2 drinks of tea made.
"Your studying local wildlife? Their are some beautiful birds that roost in the cliffs. Truly a rainbow of variety-" his mind jumped from one spot in the conversation to another. "Ah! Yes, yes, the thresher. I am well aware of Miss Zarina," a momentary pause took place where he seemed to contemplate what he was doing but then a big smile appeared on his face. "But there must be some one to help scout out the day before and we are the best rowers in all of Zengali!" Keanjaho waved his glass around to his men and they let out a cheer.
“Well well, you came prepared.” chuckled an amused Zarina, opting to not sit but accepted the tea as a gesture of politeness. Still, as taught by her betters, she had a brief chemical cleansing of the stuff before indulging at the peril of its flavour. “Gandakar, actually. You must've met a few friends. Mustafa Derari ring a bell?” she tilted her head expectantly before moving on to the more pressing point.
“Ah, well, that's precisely what I came to study.” the tall girl held the cup with both hands as she briefly pondered how to formulate her approach. “I'm here to investigate and research the causes for the Bluewater Behemoth's unusual behaviour, and help stop it if I can.” and with that, she smirked. “Looks like I've found the right people. Would you accept a coastal city girl as a plus one?”
"Well of course," Keanjaho laughed and was just about to start a story before sitting in to listen to Zarina's request. He set his tea down with much more purpose. The friendly smile was still there but his eyes carried more weight to them. He judged her with the eyes of a merchant, weighing the value in her addition versus the risk of her loss as a fighter tomorrow.
"I can accept on 3 conditions, miss Zarina. One, you must pull your weight and be an active member in the voyage," he stuck up his thumb. "Two, you must, if able, secure your own life if the need comes. I won't have a young soul like yourself in my guilt," He put up is index finger. "And third-" Keanjaho expression became light again, "Share a drink with me and crew before we set off! It's only tradition, no?"
“Naturally.” Zarina grinned as her feet levitated off the group, literally carrying her own weight.
“Of course.” she landed back down and crossed her arms. Biby had since poked his head out to yawn.
“Hmmm.” the Virangish hesitated on the last one, with her right hand rising up to rub her chin. “If it isn't some Tettari piss water, then count me in.”
Keanjaho stood up the good ole fashion way after Zarina agreed to his stipulations. "This is nothing like Tettari piss water, I can assure you!" he said proudly, "This is a family recipe that people have been drinking in Zengali for generations at this point. Let me go make it." Keanjaho headed off to prepare the tonic.
In the meantime, some of the crew introduced themselves as they waited for the drink as well. They were a relatively friendly group who didn't speak Avincian well but enough to get by. One of the larger men, truly massive in frame and muscle, gave Zarina a warning, "Plug your nose before you drink it." Other than bickering, some said it wasn't that bad, some said it was that bad. None said it was good.
Soon ten full cups of thick yellow drink came out. Swishing it in the cup gave off a pungent spell of lentils, spices, and the twang of fermentation. It was just a bit thicker than ayran and it didn't look appetizing at first glance.
Keanjaho rose a glass, "To us and safe voyage even if it may be a short one. May the gods protect out souls and this drink strengthen our hearts." With that the entire crew began to chug it down quickly. The large man from earlier was choking it down like it was the worst thing in the world.
The warnings met with shows of confidence and dismissive chuckles. In truth, the prospect of slurping something absolutely rancid prompted a visceral reaction from Zarina. Already she was planning a way to dull out her senses. And yet ...
As she saw the piss-coloured 'delight', she pursed her lips and stared at it for a moment. “To safe voyages ...” she spoke with a distinct lack of enthusiasm that was easy to recognize, so much so that she even realized it. In an attempt to correct her landing, she employed a deeper and louder voice. “And the end of that white blight!” and with that, she chugged the stuff like a madwoman.
The first gulp was led with a delicate salt flavor that gave way to a high of warm floral flavors. As you got through the cup, more subtle flavors became apparent. Things like cinnamon, cumin, cardamon, coriander, and a hint of fennel became more noticeable.
Finally the main flavor took form, this fermented earthy notes of the lentils developed on the tongue. Bringing the with it a slight hint of smoke that came only at the final sip. As an experience, it was wholly unique in the way of its development. It had the flavors you would associate more with meats and fish but it played with the fermented lentils quite well. Too heavy and spice forward to have as daily refreshment but quite good for your last warmth on a perilous journey. You did feel it in your stomach though.
The fact the taste was not only quite mild compared to what she had imagined but also familiar to some degree had Zarina worried. Was the aftertaste going to be terrible? Was it going to linger like a Virangish Pepper? Ultimately, none of her fears were realized, leading to a somewhat anticlimactic, if not welcomed outcome. “Huh.” Zarina cocked her brows and observed the empty glass before her. “Honestly, not too bad.” she gave a thumbs up, even if her stomach wasn't so sure about giving out so much positivity. She could feel the gurgles coming already.
It had been a few hours since they had left the high activity wharf and daylight was slowly sinking into an orange-tinged dusk, although they still had time before it got dark. It did leave Zarina wondering just what was the plan once they had their recon? Each time she alluded to it, they reassured her it was typical work and the fjord held no secrets to them. Not exactly reassuring, but the temporal factor she kept close to the chest pacified her somewhat.
Her heart went out to this crew, however, who had little recourse if something happened. Clearly this mission was urgent given the lack of resources other than a conspicuous journal Keanjaho wrote every detail into. Zarina did the same, only mentally with Biby occasionally emerging for some pats and hand feedings to distract her.
The house hippo wasn’t the only distraction, but it was definitely a magnet for more attention going her way. If the crew wasn’t already intrigued by the presence of a random ‘scholarly’ girl among them, the bright coloured critter did the trick. The hours were decorated with pleasant exchanges and joy.
Djembe had recently had his third daughter and couldn’t stop boasting about her supposed attunement to the ocean.
Kilik was a crass older man always seeking to make light of everything. Vulgar but clever, and was the one to veil the true risks of the expedition.
Ade was the youngest of the crew and often the butt of jokes. Barely Zarina’s age and definitely more reserved, if not a good sport about it all.
Daoud always had a story to tell, making him the most consistent voice they’d hear during the trip. He was also clearly making half of the things up.
Hami didn’t speak a whole lot, but when a good joke was cracked, he had the heartiest of laughs.
Jabali was the very large and muscular of the bunch, and quite the sweetheart too.
And finally there was Penda, the first mate to Keanjaho. He took his job very seriously and hardly smiled. It seemed he was all too aware of what was going on.
“That cove.” the Virangish plus one pointed at an isolated opening by a large cliffside. “It looks just shallow enough for us to work with. You got a map?”
"Of course, what captain would I be if I said no?" the jolly man tugged one of the many scrolls he had in his sack - a spare and virgin map he so graciously gave to his guest. Zarina accepted with both her careful hands.
“Gracias.” she said.
"De nada." he replied.
It Came from the Depths
Soon enough, they had reached the floating graveyards of the recent attacks. Wooden and human remains were being dragged by the currents but many stagnated still near the site of disaster. With the use of flight, Zarina scouted out while the boat remained at a relatively safe distance.
Dismembered ships just as much as torn apart people. It was a horrid sight to be sure, and she could only imagine just how wicked the depths truly looked. Corpses that had hit the nearby shores were riddled with crabs and other seaborne parasites feasting on their bloated carcass. It was there that Zarina realized just how dire of a situation this was - as dire as that demon from An Zenui. This thing was but a source of misery and had to be stopped.
As she returned toward the ship, she noticed one unusual detail: Foam. It resembled seaweed foam at first, but as she drifted closer, the consistency did not match up. Nor did any sort of sensing reveal an abnormality. And yet the peculiar spread of clustered foam near the coast but also around the attack site left the teen at a loss. As a coastal girl, she knew they didn’t cluster like this. With a portable cup she used for her coffee, which she selflessly sacrificed the remains of her caffeine boost for the cause, scooped a few samples before sealing it away.
“Hmmm.” Zarina pondered as she returned. “Isn’t that smell familiar?” she peered down at a clueless Biby as if she expected an answer. “Just at the tip of my tongue …”
She arrived on the ship with the captain still dutifully scribbling everything he saw. “You find it weird too?” she asked as her feet hit the wooden surface. "That foam isn’t from any sea I’ve voyaged through, Lady Zarina." he didn’t seem to jolly as he turned to face her. "The smell reminds me of a bar somehow." Zarina flinched. “A bar, really?” for a moment, they both pondered.
"Of course!" the big man clapped his hands. "It’s the-"
Then, they felt it. It was unmistakable. It was gargantuan. It was coming.
Only eyes spoke at this moment. Zarina quickly sealed her bag to protect the hippo and the crew quickly manned their positions. There were no more merry demeanours, only cold hard professionalism.
"Penda, zhue-" a massive wave erupted from right under the ship, splitting a third of it away instantly and leaving the other two-thirds to capsize. Those at the front had no chance, and those at the back all met the sea. Someone was impaled by a piece of plank, another had been dragged in by that thing.
Zarina desperately reached out for the nearest two people she could with barely any control over the massive kinetic forces driving the currents. One man was hurled into her, while another had barely caught her hand. Keanjaho, however, had taken too much time to secure his diary and missed Zarina’s other hand by a second before another crash from the beast’s claw separated them. With that, the student had vanished with her rescued duo.
One second they were in the hands of death, the next they were among the rubble at the coast. When Zarina rubbed the salt water off her eyes, she realised she had saved both Daoud and Kilik, the latter without a scratch and the former with a few wood splinters dug into his leg and arm.
They could see the carnage unfold. A mass of foamy waves as white as the claws that clobbered them. The water had turned red with screams of the survivors left behind reaching them.
“Hold this.” ordered Zarina as she passed her bag to Kilik.
”Don’t go girl, it’s suicide!” pleaded Kilik as her caught the bag.
”Let it go, you can’t change her mind.” a pained Daoud spoke up and gestured toward Zarina’s resolute eyes. ”She got that look the captain had.”
With that, she zipped into the fray once more. Most were dead or drowning after losing consciousness. The red fog made it so much worse, but-
“Captain!” she called out as she sensed a familiar form. However, it was within the murky waters, and alive! She dove, only to witness it.
Unbelievably large, pale as a ghost meshed with the blood of its victims, and burning with an unnatural rage. The mere sight gave her vertigo. Almost enough to let her just drift away in utter horror. She had forgotten to breathe, and had it not been of Keanjaho’s kinetic strike on her cheek, she may have become perfect bait for the creature. Shaken out of her daze, she frantically reached for the captain.
They were so close, doing their best to fight off the currents and influences of the Thresher’s magics.
They were so close, with Keanjaho’s advanced channelling enabling feats she didn’t think possible.
They were so close that she could just touch the man’s hand, the one holding the bag with the diary. That was it! All she needed was a strong grip. One more second.
That second passed and she finally dug her nails into that wrist. And in a tenth of that wait, she had disappeared back onto the shore.
A panting Zarina was found fifty metres away from the two she had saved. On all fours and her hand clutching that hand she had held onto for dear life. The bag the captain risked everything for lied before her, wet but in one piece. Along with that single piece of Keanjaho she could save - all up to the elbow.
Upon acknowledging the ghoulish sight with the carnage nearing its end in the background, she found her vision beginning to blur. And as the two shipmates arrived, they found her lying down, face half in the water, and with a mango-sized hold on her flank, where the spleen would be.
As her vision faded, she recalled every single one of these men that had been sacrificed.
Djembe, killed nearly in an instant by a wooden plank through the chest.
Ade was taken in by the current and subsequently devoured by the beast. He could not scream in agony when buried in the sea water.
Hami was at the front and fell unconscious immediately. He subsequently drowned in the deep depths.
Jabali fought the current and thrashing beast with all her could, but found himself impaled by a massive spike, only to be then discarded into two split pieces.
Penda was instantly obliterated when the claw shattered the boat, creating a red that painted the battlefield.
And of course, Keanjaho. Sank with his ship and fought to the bitter end until he was indistinguishable from the rest of the ocean he had devoted his life to.
Location: Ersand'Enise - Animal Farm Day of the week: Victendes Time: Morning / Daytime Characters: Zarina, Nu, Biby, Penny @Force and Fury, Rikard, Yvain @jasbraq, Taleja @Ti, Guy @dragonpiece
The board room was ornately furnished with a table in the middle, a bottle of Ellermane Bleu and a couple of glasses ready for serving. The friendly Perrench man greets the students at the door and introduces them to the comfortable chair as he pours out the bottle into the glass. Marigold cheerfully greets application with a heartful meow before disappearing under the table to reside underneath the Zeno's chair. He gave a chuckle, “She is a little shy around strangers.” He is seated comfortable, and relaxed. It is a nice and pleasant atmosphere, as if two friends are ready to chat over a glass of wine. “Your application was a refreshing read, and I am interested in you. Tell me something that I cannot read from this page.” He patted his hand on your completed application form, before it found itself scratching along the back of the cats neck as it appeared on the table.
Zarina opted for a safe middle-ground when it came to her presentation: Darker colours for her formal dress, one that would be conventionally accepted as tasteful to bring to classes, without being too dim as to suggest she was mourning something. She was fresh with an odour of lavender permeating the air around her. With a steady and calculated gait, she approached the seat dedicated to her.
“High Zeno Masson.” she spoke before bowing.
The disarming demeanor of her interviewer brought the tall student to an ease she wouldn't easily achieve in such occasions. She took a seat, tugged slightly on her dress to give space to her knees and took a seat in a proper, ladylike fashion.
“She's beautiful. Hey you!” cooed Zarina as her golden hues followed the little animal. The sight made her smile, something Olivier knew from reading her record. With a light touch of her signature chemical spell, she attempted to ease the stress on the feline and communicate the Al-Nader as a 'friend'.
“Well,” Zarina peered at her wine glass. Her personal inclinations told her to indulge, but her mother's teachings told her to wait for the host to poison themselves first. She conspicuously looked at Olivier's glass before continuing. “I'm a stickler for good Ellermane Bleu.” she said as she seized the glass and merely inhaled the aromas to distinguish the different unique quirks that made it the way it was. “I've had quite a bit catered a while ago. But not many people know just how much I love the stuff.” she giggled sweetly.
“But for what's relevant to the position? I'd say I'm one hell of a good staple that keeps many great folks attending this school together. No matter where they're from or what they believe in.”
Masson tutted a little as the cat moved away from the use of chemical magic, shaking his head lightly. He moved to fill a little saucer with some cream, as he smiled gently, "She will return on her own." As he moved his hand on the glass, raising it up as if to do a silent toast toward Zarina as encouraging her to drink. Matching if she went to drink.
"You are a little bit different than I expected," He motioned towards her presentation in a gentle manner, "and your coffee is certainly a staple, amongst the students and the faculty." He circled with a finger on her point on togetherness, "So, why do you do it?"
Zarina raised her glass in mimicry. “There's a reason they make the host drink first. Please don't make me neutralize such good stuff.” she commented with a twinge of sass. She really was tempted to just sip.
With actual questions shot her way, she took a moment to think. She pondered whilst staring into the dark-red fluid, making her look far more profound than she really was. In truth, she was just trying to remember simple vocabulary. “Because it's when I had all these good people united in a common goal that we've achieved greatness.” she answered with a tone teetering toward dramatics that matched her words. The gesturing with her idle hand added even more to it. “Changed the lives of many of our tethered colleagues forever, and for the better I feel. And saved a whole city-state from an incarnation of evil. All of it because we we tied together without any bickering over petty differences. We made a true difference to the world, the same way I'd want to do for this school and city.”
She then sighed. “Of course, all this was possible because of trust.” and with those words, she took a first sip.
Masson winked as he drunk after Zarina, "I did not share the same concern. With your chemical magic expertise, you should have been able to neutralize the toxin without further affecting the quality of the vintage." Marigold returned to the table as she mewled, and moved over to the saucer to lap its contents.
"You make such feats sound effortless in your reply, and without you, all this could have not all been possible. Truly marvellous, I am geniunely intrigued." He gave a couple of claps with his hands, "Tell me more of the specifics, how did you do it? I wish to learn more about how you completed these achievements."
“Tsk tsk. The slightest alteration can ruin it. If only I was that good.” Zarina lamented before taking a more hearty sip. “But I think you can make due without a scandal involving dead students or assassination attempts, right? Trust and character judging were key to my success.” she said, causing a recently stitched wound in her mind to open up. She hid it, of course, but it embittered her nonetheless.
Zarina then shrugged, making it a habit to sip every time she engaged a new idea. “I organized a soirée and invited friends, and those friends invited their friends. No pretenses, no ulterior motives. Just a chance to be friends again before the big war pops and an investment for the future. The same way I go about my business.” and her love life, it seemed. Although she abstained to mention that one. “'Cause this is what you're getting with me: Someone who cares about the long term, partially because I'm likely to see it, but also because I see Ersand'Enise as my home.” she pursed her lips and gestured to indicate she wasn't done. “I know that sounded a little melodramatic but I actually do literally own a home here. So, y'know, gotta be a citizen, corporate and otherwise, if I wanna live at ease here.”
Masson circled the glass in his grasp, as he listened half-attentively. "I had hoped for more about this about this tethered story, or rescuing a whole city state from evil." He moved over to a bowl of grapes as he plucked several to put in his mouth, as he suckled on the succelent rich taste of them, one for each of his five gods, and Zarina's god, then one for the goddess of the yasoi. He gestured with his hand, "So your soiree was an opportunity to invest in social credit before the event of a potential war? That sounds quite calculating and ambitious ." He offered the bowl of grapes towards Zarina.
“Oh.” Zarina blinked. “I thought you wanted to know how I got people to unite. Right, okay.” she shook her head and raised her hand. “We fought to overthrow a Tethered Refuge's corrupt governance and saved it from a maddened Royal Sand Wyrm. We all worked together and ...” she looked to the side, showing some potential shame. “I got over some ideas I had about them - the tethered. I'm hoping I can convince others to give them more of a chance, y'know?” she shrugged.
“An Zenui ... You know, it came down to finding the right people to fix a broken government - again - and Prime Minister Cozesteo, an enemy I spared out of mercy, became our solution.” she pursed her lips and took a sip of her glass - it was nearly empty. “Then came the big, bad Hetraxa monster that killed hundreds, and was gonna kill more and more.” she nodded, gaze a bit hollow as she recalled. “It's a bit more of a blur to me, as I was, well you've seen in my sheet there, transformed. Parts of it come and go.” she took a deep breath and followed up with more confidence. “That being said, monstrous or not, I saved hundreds, if not thousands, thanks to what I was - A wildblood. And I intend to do the same for this city.”
Zarina accepted the grapes but did not seem to be in any mood to eat. “You make it sound so cynical, High Zeno.” she uttered with a glum look. “But yeah, it was kind of calculated. Calculated and genuine. I've grown to care about these people - this community. And the only way we'll make this world, not just this school and city, better is by investing in its future rather than constantly destroying it to start anew. It was almost pointlessly risky for me to invite some of the Revidians after what had happened. Almost.” a light glimmer could be found in her eye. One of a shrewd businesswoman.
He waved his hand as to dismissively fend off the accusation, "Don't look so glum, I am not here to make an omelette, Miss Al-Nader" He gave a chuckle as he reached for bottle, offering to refill the glass. "But I want that shell of yours to crack, and to see what will hatch from it." He placed his hands together as if stern for a moment, then relaxed again, as the kitty leaned up against his arm. "It is approaching Marigold's lunch time," he scratched under the cats chin, as her purr rumbled gently from the action.
“Crack my shell?” Zarina narrowed her eyes to her interviewer and placed the glass back onto the surface before her. “I see.” her lips puckered up for a moment with her gaze intensifying a little more. “If you want something specific from me, High Zeno Masson, you could also just ask for it.” she looked to the hungry cat serving as hourglass prop.
Then she peered down, nodded and seemed to resign herself to something. “I'm afraid. I feel I don't have a place in most of this world - a world I feel I already did a lot for. Even before I became this thing, I was never content with what I was supposed to be. Not so much here, however.” she exhaled loudly from her nostrils and looked Masson right in the eyes. “I'm gonna live a long time as something most will fear and possibly hate. I wanted to ... Find my place. Ersand'Enise is this place. And all these fucking trials - not the games - reminded me that I'm good and decent. Not just some animal to be monitored, made to enforce and put down.”
“Honestly? I want to be an inspiration. I want to be a hero. Being one of the youngest Tan-Zenos and later Zenos in history? A WILDBLOOD to boot? One loved by,” she bit her lip, trying hard to stifle her emotions. “so many, and accepted by even more. It would be a great step up to what I did for the Tethered. That's what I want the most. And I KNOW I'd do a fucking good job.” she let her back sag into her seat a little more, sighing after letting that out. “So, yeah, a bit melodramatic there, again. But that's how I feel. And what I want.”
"All of Oraff's creations are beautiful, Miss Al-Nader." Marigold grew more insistent, as she gently nibbled on his finger. "but now is time. This turned into quite the pleasant conversation after all. Thank you for coming by." He moved to stand up as he approached the door, opening it for the applicant. Marigold decidedly head towards the food bowl was.
“Some far more than others.” Zarina added with a twinge of bitterness. Said bitterness lingered as the exchange met its end. Zarina clenched her dress as her interviewer walked past her to give her the door. She felt she hadn't done enough - not enough to 'wow' anyone.
“The Blood of Saam's beloved courses through me.” she blurted out something she had always believed should have remained secret right before the door opened. And yet here she was, desperate to prove she had value. Zarina stood up, turned and faced Masson. “In a time where you've lost the assets that made Ersand'Enise stand atop the world - Paradigm Hugo and Zenith Claresse - I still chose this school to be the one I pour my hopes and efforts into.”
The Virangish stepped forward toward the door. “And I know my potential can reach their levels with proper guidance-” grooming was a better word, she thought. “I only need the opportunity to truly shine.” she bowed her head and headed for the door. “Thank you for your time, High Zeno Masson.”
And then she looked toward Marigold. “Bon appétit, petit kitty.” she cooed.
Masson smiled as the door as he closed the behind her, "Thank you for your time as well, Miss Al-Nader."
Zarina hovered over the calm, misty waters of the cordoned off deep sea section of the animal farm in search for both solitude but also a reassuring presence. It had been rough the past two weeks and she had just about reached the limits with people in general. The cool sea air reminded her of a time far less complicated.There were very few beasts to disturb her quietude in this section as they all preferred the abyssal depths and artificial trenches made for them.
There was one exception: A pair of black, beady and predatory eyes that emerged from the waters like that of a crocodile, albeit longer. Under them was a large shadow, one big enough to cover the area of a shed. It had been attracted by the familiar presence - prey, it always thought - only for it to float completely immobile once it reached the surface. The tune became familiar after a week. It meant food. And its mistress always provided.
“You’re a big, dumb and menacing piece of work.” she spoke after a breather without ending her tune. “But not vicious. I would even say-” the beast-mistress angled herself to ‘lie’ on her stomach while floating a good twenty feet above the water surface. “Innocent.” she tossed a large slice of tuna into the water, and it slowly sank into the behemoth’s antenna.
The woman that had approached Zarina had laid out the details before her group had been made known. If there was one student in Ersand’Enise to deal with such Behemoths, it was her. The whole conundrum had her wondering what could cause the sudden aggression. The reputation of these threshers lent one to conclude it was the norm but serial strikes on ships was deviant behaviour.
Her mind wandered into the possibilities, but each time she pictured the potential destruction and slaughter an abnormal animal could do, she could only imagine herself and what she would have done to that boy, Fiske, had she not been quelled beforehand. She was going to kill him without paying any credence to his side of the story, much like a beast would. Her eyes hollowed, mind divorced from her surroundings. It took Nu’s stirring, her Bluewater Behemoth, to snap her out of it.
“You’ve had enough.” she decided before dousing the critter with an unpleasant chemical spell to convince it the session was over. “Like clockwork.”
Too many parts of the equation were missing, she figured. These things did not want or revel in glory like humans, nor were they close to intelligent. With a sigh and without a solid hypothesis, Zarina dove into the trenches blind. For now.
The meeting Penny conducted had done its job: They were gathered and Zarina could get a feel for the group. A particular sight had her posture stiffen just a little more.
Yvain. It took a lot of willpower to not just utter that name with disdain. The guy had supposedly humbled himself, but nearly being blasted to death and causing the mess that had burned a few bridges for the teen that only sought to help would understandably leave one sour for some time.
Affiliated. Guy was neither hot nor cold to her. From what she understood between Penny’s recently revealed (to her) status and this guy’s position, he was bound to her. Still, the shady nature of this operation’s premise had any sort of politics make her anxious.
Unknown quantity. She saw the odd interactions between Taleja and Jocasta. Perhaps the most brilliant student of their cohort. Perhaps a mind over emotion was what they would need to crack this.
Good kid. Finally there was Rikard. A powerhouse and known quantity. Smart but a child. The Venomhand’s brains were going to be crucial to keep a plan going.
Princess. A leader, perhaps? Or was she truly the hothead some might have suggested she was? It was either her or Zarina that would realistically take the reigns if personalities were to matter. Given who attended, however, perhaps the old legged royal was the better pick.
And there’s me. Someone’s gotta know what they’re doing, after all.
“Agreed.” Zarina crossed her arms as she regarded Yvain. “Let’s keep the trigger-happiness to a minimum, even when that big thresher is upon us. The smart thing would be to keep it alive to see what’s causing it to go mad. Hopefully without hurting our misguided peers.” her eyes narrowed on Yvain. “Or even our own allies by mistake.”
Out of her messenger bag loaded with supplies emerges the golden head of Biby, the house hippo, fully prepared for a trip. Why did she decide to bring it? One would have to find out, or just ask. The young and smol beast yawned wide and curiously ogled at every moving thing.
“That said, if the port’s in immediate jeopardy, we kill it. Straight up.” Zarina declared, solemnly.
Loadout: Gear: Hetzelburg Homburg, Conquistador’s Gauntlets, Many Moons Armband, a singular silver coin. Currency: Ỽ5 Consumables: Puffchicken Egg Salad with spratz cream coffee. Familiars: Biby
wintersoldier
CitrusArms
Danyel
rabidbacon
dragonpiece
pantothenic
Izurich
jasbraq
Ti
