The Massive Multi-Fandom RPG: Season 3

Kyle had joined the others downstairs, and found himself mulling over the deeper implications of Ezio's profession. If what he was saying was true, then he could make a useful addition to the team - they could always use scouts or perhaps even infiltrators, albeit most wouldn't be wearing such bright clothes. There was every possibility that the Assassin was lying. After all, assassins could be expected to be economical with the truth.

Still, we could do worse, he reminded himself.

"Excuse me, but just hang on a second," said Kyle in as polite a tone as he could muster. "I'm sorry if this seems rude of me, but do you have any proof to back up your description? I don't mean to offend you, but it's not every day we come across an assassin."

He paused. "By the way, I'm Kyle Katarn, Jedi Master."

Locking you up on radar since '09

Ezio listened to both Oswald and Rogue, nodding in the correct places. "I understand, now. Well, mostly," he corrected himself, chuckling. "Most of these terms are unusual when they get translated to my language." He paused. "I assume you all realize we're not speaking the same language, right?" Quickly after he said this, however, he waved it off, turning it into a rhetorical question. "Of course you do. I'm sure you all have been here longer than I have."

Then Kyle questioned his identity. Ezio's head snapped to the Jedi Master, his eyes narrowed. "I carry no identification, but I have no need to." He raised his arm, his hand tilted at an angle. With a flick of his wrist, the hidden blade sprang out of its mechanical sheath. "I am an Assassin like my father before me, Giovanni Auditore of Florence." Ezio realized how he sounded, an sighed, retracting his blade and lowering his arm. "I apologize, Master Katarn. I am not used to having my identity questioned." He pulled down his hood, revealing his face. "We assassins, as you would expect, carry no proof of our identity around with us other than the robes we wear and the blade we carry." Ezio patted the sword that hung by his side. "I should have expected one of you would doubt me. You need not apologize." He sighed again. "I know that I have no proof of my status as an assassin, but I stand by my statement."

Ezio then realized he did not answer Oswald's question. "And by the way," he said to the rabbit, turning his head to him, "I come from the year of our Lord 1503." He thought for a second. "So...the sixteenth century. Is that correct? I did not pay much attention when it came to school."

edited 12th Jan '12 4:06:29 PM by Chilifro

Be kind.

Aki was already downstairs, having decided that they were probably somewhere safe enough for her to not have to wear her boots. Not that she actually disliked them, per say. They were a part of her uniform, and she had it on foster-parental

authority that they were good boots, it was just that they weren't the most pleasant things in the universe after having worn them all day for almost week. The coat had stayed, however. The coat always stayed.

The floor of the bar was stone, the nondescript sort of grey-ish stone she'd gotten used to seeing on the floor of more or less every single building that existed in the Imperium. It was also dusty, and cold, and had a carpet that probably used to be a bear in front of the fireplace. She moved past it silently, and tried not to walk into any empty chairs on her way to the bar. She was hungry. She was also not entirely sure what they were doing with their rations, and completely unsure she wanted to risk going to the tank to get them. The bar was long and wooden, lined with stools and the kind of decorations people who live in an armoured keep in the middle of the wilderness found entertaining. There was sword above it, which might or might not have been real. Aki tried not to speculate, but couldn't help but notice that most of the swords she'd seen tended to have less gold on them.

The man behind the bar was slim, and sinewy, and not actually a man at all. At least she guessed he wasn't. The skin she could see above his collar was a sort of bluish-grey, and his ears were much longer and pointier than any human. There were also hoops through them, in varying shades of silver and something she didn't recognize which was black and had an odd way of catching the light. His hair was white, and shaved on the back and sides, with what was left pulled back into a short ponytail neat the top of his head. She recognized that, from the Schola. That was a military haircut, to stop the helmet chafing the top of his head. She found herself remembering the basic description of Dark Eldar she'd been given by the Schola, but he didn't appear to be wearing enough leather for that to apply. He was also standing still, and cleaning a glass, and probably not killing anyone. That had been another fairly large part of the description.

He was also very tall, at least from Aki's point of view. She managed an "Um.", which he didn't appear to have heard, and then made a tactical retreat into silence.

She heard someone chuckle in an accent she only just recognized recognize, and turned her head to see another man sitting in the shadowy corner where the bar connected to the wall. He was wearing some kind of fur, and quire a large amount of dirt, and appeared to be drinking a slightly murky glass of water

. She caught his eyes, and glanced downwards on general instinct. The man wasn't wearing any shoes, either.

"That's not how it's done, girl." He said, softly. It was the same kind of accent as Beryl, she realized, but as far as she could tell it wasn't the same language. Not that she would have been able to tell. Languages spoken by strangely manic looking men wearing strangely manic looking fur probably weren't something anyone in the group knew. Or wanted to know. She had the horrible feeling he'd be smiling, if she looked at his face. She tried to fix her eyes on the glass of slightly green water, only to be distracted when his fist came down almost knocked if off of the bartop.

"SERAS!"

The Dark Elda- the barman swivelled around like a shot, and glared at him. He had a long sort of face, now she could see it, with high cheekbones and something odd going on under the skin of brow. He didn't quite look human, somehow. Humans tended not to have faces quite that long, or eyes that shade of red. He also had a nose that made him look slightly aristocratic, which was probably quite unfair from the sound of his accent

"What!?"

The Beryl-sounding man was, in fact, smiling. Aki was no expert on smiles, and was generally didn't like to look too hard at what people were doing with their faces, but this wasn't a particularly pleasant kind of smile. Or maybe it was. It was hard to tell. It looked friendly enough, as far as she knew, but some of his teeth seemed to be altogether too sharp for it to really work. You got the impression he was going to lunge at a rabbit, or possibly a small child. "You have a customer." He said, happily.

The cold eyes of Barman Seras fell on her, at which point he deflated slightly and lamented the fact that squaring up only works when your customer wasn't the waifyest waif that ever wandered into somewhere warm. Children weren't his area of expertise, mostly due to his area of expertise being big mean Nords with big mean beards who thought they could hold the big mean drinks they always ordered. Children didn’t really figure into it, especially children this obviously dishevelled. The way she was apparently trying to look everywhere except that wasn't his face wasn't exactly helping.

"You're hungry, right?" He said. He doubted anyone who looked like that wouldn’t be, and he didn’t remember her earning anything the night before. "Do you have anything you could trade?"

Aki continued to stare at the bar top, and silently sank her hands into her pockets. The coat had deep pockets. Mostly they were full of ammunition, because over the last week she’d been given enough to jangle slightly whenever there was a wind and vaguely wish her rifle had come with more than one clip. She’d barely shot any of it, but she knew that had more to do with good luck than good management. This was a medieval town, too. It dawned on her that they might have no reason to accept it, even the twenty or so she had clinking gently in her pockets. She wondered if they even had any guns, and how likely they were to be the same calibre if they did, and if the barman was still glaring at the top of her head.

There was an awkward kind of pause, and for half a minute you could just about make out the sound of the universe slowly undergoing heat death if you listened closely enough. Aki managed another “Um”, and then wished she hadn’t. The man in the furs caved first, mostly out of mercy.

“I don’t think she has anything, Seras.” He said. “Not anything you’d need. Look at her.”

Seras didn’t appear to have heard him, and stayed silent. He was already looking at her. There was a complicated set of moral algebra currently swirling around his head, and quite a lot of it was the repeated observation that she didn’t even have any shoes. He was a businessman, yes, and he was in a business where the only emotions he usually had to show were a dislike for free refills and enough patience to listen to how much better things were Back Home. The thing was, there was a lot more to life than just business. He didn’t know where they were, and he hadn’t seen any evidence further than the strange visitors that occasionally passed through and that damned light on the horizon, but he could guess all too well what it might be like to have to travel through it. Especially if you didn't have any shoes. He sighed, and muttered something about there maybe being some of the soup left.

Aki felt the pressure of his gaze lift, and glanced up up in time to see him moving towards an archway to the kitchen. The man with the pointed teeth turned his head, and grinned at her in a friendly sort of way. She looked away, and jangled slightly.

edited 12th Jan '12 4:33:14 PM by TheMalignancy

"We had already figured that for the most part," Rogue said to the Assassin, crossing her arms. Rogue hadn't actually noticed the translation of anyone's speech, but then most of her group had spoken English as their natural language.

"And yeah, that's the sixteenth century," Rogue explained to Ezio. "I'm from 1999, the twentieth century."

"If you're from Florence, then ya must be speaking Italian, then?" Rogue had asked. She wasn't quite sure how to explain where she was from without confusing Ezio any more. The United States was founded in 1776, which was long after his time. Heck, Columbus only discovered the Americas in 1492. Every child of the United States probably knew both of those facts. But then, that's the annoyance with time travel.

edited 12th Jan '12 5:08:00 PM by GameGuruGG

Wizard Needs Food Badly

It was at this point that Sandy made her way down the stairs.

"Morning, y'all," she greeted, taking a seat.

She glanced at Ezio.

"Howdy," she grinned, offering her hand, "Don't think we've met, stranger."

Molly responded to Gene's wave with a quick upwards nod. "Morning." She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one side. "You're planning on getting out of here today?"

Waiting there for the others to come out of the room, it was very tempting for Gene to lean on the old wooden door and eavesdrop on what they were saying, partly because he could swear that one of the voices he was hearing wasn't one he recongise. But he had two if silent and witnesses nearby, and the martial artist did not feel like getting in trouble and yelled at this earlier in the morning. He'd just have to sit back and hope on the good judgement of all parties involved, and kick down the door when the screaming starts.

While waiting for his friends/screaming/breakfast (whichever comes first), he noticed that the new girl gave a nod and reply to his wave, showing she had the capacity to talk to others and making her less socially awkward than a lamp. "Yep" he said back as he stetched out to better relax into the the wall that creaked at his weight "Wouldn't want to out stay our welcome. Besides, it's kinda boring here"

Sometimes I even amaze myself. Currently: Nice and sneaky like

"1999?" Nick said. "I'm about ten years into your future then. I don't work for SHIELD anymore, too much..." Did he really want to tell her that the organization he'd spent years working for had turned out to be a front for it's arch enemy HYDRA? Or the takeover by Norman Osborne? "Well lets just say a lot of crap went down that I didn't like and a bunch of us went independent contractor."

Trump delenda est

Ezio nodded in response to Rogue's question. "That is my native language, yes. I also know a bit of German, and quite a bit of Arabic." He shrugged. "I would know more, but my travels have not taken me so far that I need to learn more dialects."

Ezio glanced at Sandy, and it immediately clicked in his head. "No, I don't believe we've met." He looked slightly confused at her slang words — 'howdy' and 'y'all,' — but his mind quickly corrected him. He shook his head. He would just have to get used to the translations being slightly muddled, by both time and language barries. Ezio shook the squirrel's hand.

Be kind.

"Something tells me I don't really want to know the details," Oswald responded to Nick. "Hopefully it didn't have anything to do with some kinda villain taking over the organization and kicking you to the curb," the rabbit said, completely and totally unaware of how accurate he was.

DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!

Kyle's expression had darkened for the slightest of moments, and he surreptitiously called his lightsaber into his hand*

, though he found his body relaxing slightly as Ezio assuaged his concerns somewhat. He almost winced at the 'Master Katarn' comment, though. He would never get used to that for as long as he lived, even if he was called that day and night. He wondered briefly how other Masters such as Luke and Tionne Solusar managed it.

"Uh... just call me Kyle. I'm not a fan of titles," he said awkwardly, trying desperately to find something to talk about. Belatedly, he thought of something to ask. "I am not familiar with Italy or Florence. Care to fill in a poor old man?"

Real smooth, Kyle.

Locking you up on radar since '09

Nick raised an eyebrow at the rabbit's disturbingly precise statement but didn't say anything.

Trump delenda est

Agatha's ears had metaphorically perked up as Wheatley animatedly explained his world of origin. A scietific research facility? Most interesting, especially the apparently modular system of test chambers - although she wasn't sure what a "robotic" arm was. She'd heard Mr Katsuya use the term earlier - she assumed it was another word for Clank or automaton. She made a mental note to ask about it later.

Wheatley went on to mentioned the "near-constant fatal accidents" that apparently plagued the compound. Agatha raised one eyebrow. There was always some risk involved in any scientific endeavour, especially research, but what the sphere described seemed decidedly sub-par.

"For a renowned research facility, it sounds as if their safety standards were rather lax." She commented, getting to her feet. "What was it you were testing there, if you don't mind my asking?"

Ezio listened to Kyle, and then nodded, a smile on his face. "I understand. I do not like the title 'Grand Master' myself." He paused, realizing what he said. "Oh, I forgot to mention — I am the leader of the Assassins in my time. Like I said, I am the Grand Master of the Order." Ezio then shrugs, chuckling. "But that is neither here nor there. My Order is in another time and place, and there is on basis for my title here." Kyle then asked if Ezio could fill him in. "There isn't much to say, really. Florence is one of the big towns in Italy, next to Rome and other places. It's a nice place — lots of shingled rooftops perfect for running on. I remember the times my brother and I used to race across these said rooftops, trying to see who could get up the church tower quicker."

Ezio paused here for a moment, and then he sighed. "He is dead, now, however. Betrayed by one of my father's friends." He then shook his head. "But mourning is over for him and my other relatives. I still have a mother and a sister to protect. I plan to get back to them as soon as possible." Another sigh. "Anyway, Italy itself is a smallish country, compared to England or Russia." Ezio shrugged. "But it is a nice place to live. The people I have met there are nice enough, when they are not trying to kill me." He chuckled at his joke. "We live on the contient known as 'Europe,' next to Asia and across the sea from the New World." He smiled. "I believe I am one of the few who knows that, by the way. Did you know that the man who went on the exploration, Christopher Columbus, was an assassin as well?" Ezio smiled. "The previous Grand Master told me he had sent him out to gather information on the Templars in Asia, but the New World kind of...hindered his progress. He got word back to us fairly quickly, and soon the entire Order knew about it. It wouldn't be until Christopher" — he used Columbus' first name, as if he knew him personally — "returned a few years later that England would hear about it. I doubt Italy has received news yet." He shrugged. "We are always the last to know, it seems."

Be kind.

"Wait, YOUR version of Christopher Columbus, the man who officially discovered America, was an assassin?!" Oswald responded to Ezio, his tone being mind-blowing amazement rather than horror. "Oh......WOW.......heck, if this were a cartoon instead of real life, my head would literally explode into confetti like a firecracker that's so mind blowing! That is TRULY freakin' AWESOME!!"

A beat.

"Wait, what exactly are these Templars?" Oswald asked. "And how far into Asia you last heard they were at? India? China?"

edited 14th Jan '12 4:04:33 PM by UdtheImp

DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!

Batou looked up from his thoughtful staring at the ground as he heard a voice comment on their meal. "Huh?" he questioned automatically and somewhat halfheartedly before noticing the scruffy-looking detective that was looking longingly at what was left of their meal. "Sure, help yourself," he said in response to the man's request for food. Normally they couldn't afford to just give out their food like this, but there was still some left from the meal and it wouldn't keep for long, so there was no harm. Beryl and May even offered up their own cakes to the man, who cheered up rather significantly at the prospect of food.

Agatha made the mistake of mentioning seconds being a possibility and Lina shouted, causing Batou to look back in the sorceress' direction with a mild sigh. Is she ever not thinking about food? he thought. The scruffy-looking man finished eating and expressed his thanks, then introduced himself as Dick Gumshoe before asking their own names. "Gumshoe, huh?" Batou parroted as he glanced at the detective, before saying "Name's Batou."

Lina expressed her wish to inquire about another town where they could stay. Beryl said she thought they should sleep on it before making a decision, and mentioned that they would run into the Bloodhounds again if they headed towards the Conduit. "Agreed," Batou said with a nod, adding "We need to explore our options before we make a decision. Staying here probably won't work for long, but we shouldn't be in a rush to leave just yet."

Beryl also brought up the point that they still didn't know what the Bloodhounds were up to. She then hesitated for a moment and segued into saying they might be able to stay at Dedede's castle for a while. Odd, Batou thought. Why did she suddenly change focus like that? Then again, they had just been discussing where they could stay until the Bloodhounds were done, so it wasn't too significant of a leap.

The conversation started to wind down and people began excusing themselves to their respective rooms for the night. Batou went up to his own room and, seeing that their sleeping arrangements consisted of cots of questionable stability

, elected to find a mat to lay on the ground instead. After finding a mat and lying down, Batou spent some time staring blankly at a wall as he again went over the files he'd been sent before getting dragged into Extremus. After he finished reading through it Batou briefly wondered what had come of the op, or if the refugee tensions back home had gotten any worse.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind; Wondering about that wouldn't do him any good right now, he'd just have to find out when he got home.

---

Batou woke up to the sound of discussion. Beryl, May, Agatha and... someone else. The former three seemed to be attempting to keep their voices quiet, but the latter was quite a bit louder. And quite a bit more British. In fact, the conversation seemed to have an interesting range of European accents in play, now that he thought of it. Sitting upright and rubbing his face, Batou looked around the room briefly before spotting his gear. He gathered it up, holstering his various weapons and putting on his jacket, and headed out the door and down the stairs.

Several others appeared to be up already, including Gene, Matt, Aki and some woman he hadn't seen before. "Morning," he muttered to no one in particular. From the look and sound of things most of the others were awake, but only a handful of them were downstairs. Judging by the British

voice he could hear, whatever conversation they were having was still going on.

"We should probably gather everyone up and figure out how we're going to move forward," Batou said after scanning the room. "Breakfast sounds good for now, though."

"Yeah, the Americas are the name our world settled on for what you call the New World," Rogue said to Ezio, feeling a need for some explaination. "There's actually two continents, North and South America, which are each about the size of Africa."

"While every kid in my time knows Columbus's name, he's never been mentioned as an assassin," Rogue chuckled a bit and shook her head at the thought. "Heck, I've been to continents that your time hasn't even discovered yet."

"I'm actually from a country in North America," Rogue glanced at Ezio, chuckling a bit. "The United States, a... former English colony that successfully rebelled."

edited 14th Jan '12 5:30:41 PM by GameGuruGG

Wizard Needs Food Badly

Group B Inn

Someone over by the bar cleared their throat. If anyone decided to look around, they'd see a gentleman sitting at the bar wearing what might have once been a white suit but had been stripped by time and weather to something stained and extensively patched up with what appeared to be pieces of somebody's leather jacket. He had a long face, tanned and creased through years of riding horses through a desert and good honest manual labour, and neatly trimmed little goatee. His eyes were bloodshot, but oddly warm, and he liked to think the bags under them just made them look more charismatic. He was drinking a long glass of something but in Extremus it was probably a question best left unanswered.

"I apologise for the intrusion," The man said, tilting his glass at them in a friendly sort of way. The accent, provided anyone listening was in any position to recognize it, was somewhere in the region of about a thousand percent Kentucky with a side order decidedly out-of-place suaveness. Extremus made you gruff, or else it made you dead. Obviously this man hadn't been there all too long. "But I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, especially about these... organizations you fellas said you were a part of. Organizations you appear, by all accounts, to be quite valuable to. Now, assuming you had some way to contact them, and assuming they had some way to get here, how long do you reckon it'd be before they could arrive with some evacuation for you gentlemen?"

He grinned over his half-empty glass, and greases around his eyes somehow managed to shift deeper.

"Just a thought. I believe I may have a proposition for you. I'm sure you'll like it"

edited 14th Jan '12 5:51:20 PM by TheMalignancy

Oswald raised a disapproving eyebrow at the Southern gentleman. The way to spoke to them seemed similar in tone to a used car salesman selling rotten lemons, or a snake oil dealer pawning off motor oil saying they came from snakes. Still......

"Sure thing my good sir, we're glad to hear it!" the rabbit said to him with a wide smile. Outwardly the smile looked genuine, but mentally the Oswald was already thinking of telling his teammates not to trust a single word that comes out of this guy's silver tongue.

edited 14th Jan '12 6:06:30 PM by UdtheImp

DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!

Ezio opened his mouth at Oswald's question, closed it, opened it again, and then sighed, closing it again. "That is a question I cannot rightfully answer. On one hand they are a radical group of knights, out to rid the world of us assassins, and on the other hand, they are manipulative diplomats who weave their way into the higher rankings of society. They are very versatile, as are we. They are a worthy opponent. And as for your other question?" He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "I do not rightfully know, honestly," the assassin said to Oswald. "That was what we were sending Christopher there for, but as you know, he discovered the...what did you call it?" He glanced at Rogue. "Ah, yes. The 'Americas.' Those got in the way of the primary goal, and the fervor of discovery blinded our former Grand Master from the former project." Ezio then remembered something, and chuckled. "Coincidentally, I sent another man out to Asia not long before I was transported here. I had yet to hear from him when I found myself here on...hm. What was it called? Extremus. That was it."

Ezio then turned his attention to Rogue. "A colony that rebelled against Britain? Well, bravo for them. I always thought the British were a bit...touchy, at best." He shrugged. "But I have never been to the country itself, so maybe the people I met were exceptions to the rule." He was about to then ask what colonies Rogue had been talking about, when the man by the bar spoke up. Ezio slowly turned towards the man his hidden blade sliding quickly out with another chink.

Ezio raised an eyebrow as the man spoke. "I doubt very highly my assassins would come for me. When the next morn comes, a new Grand Master will already be appointed. The evacuation I would like, but I am wholly unsure you are able to provide such a thing." He clasped his hands behind his back, making sure the hidden blade didn't touch his palm. "But propsitions I have been trained to listen to. Speak on."

Be kind.

The man's off-white grin stretched with delight as the party seemed to show interest in his proposition. Parties often did that, as far as he'd found. Everyone wanted to be in the know, and selling that privilege was his business. With a weary groan, the man turned his head to one side, feeling the silent crack alleviate his momentary stiffness.

"Well, since you folks seem so interested..." the man pressed on,taking another short swig of his nameless drink. "I reckon I might have some information regardin' your ticket outta here. And I don't mean this sorry little town'a settlers here. I mean this whole place. I heard some folks talkin' about how they'd seen the sky itself tear a few'a them spaceships apart, and I also heard 'em say we can't send messages outta here for that same reason..."

Clearing his throat again, the man took another few sips of his drink before continuing, suddenly becoming somewhat more animated.

"But I - my friends, my fellow pioneers - can tell you where spaceships and messages work just fine. With my very eyes, I saw a man standing at the very point I speak of, then get into a ship and lift off and disappear without any trouble at all. And I don't mean he flew up there and got torn to shreds. No, I know what that looks like; not pretty, let me tell you. No sir, I swear on my great-uncle Obidiah's honor that he flew a ship straight upward through a part in the clouds. I reckon you folks could send a message through there if you needed to, and I can even lead you there."

With her ever-brilliant timing, Lina returned to Group A's inn and came through the door just as Batou suggested breakfast.

"Yes, please." She rubbed her eye tiredly and yawned. "But you're not going to suggest we hunt for it like Rogue did, right?"

You guys are free to have a fight anywhere you want to, but interfering with an innocent girl’s meal is unforgivable.

Rogue looked at the man... It was the closest lead they had to getting somewhere with contacting #1 like Goggles wanted. With Goggles and Sixes both in custody, they had to contact #1 if they were to help the Trope-Tans. However, he was being a bit too helpful, and if this spot was so good for escaping Extremus, why hasn't he taken it yet.

"What's the catch?" Rogue asked the man, interested but cautious. "I gotta figure there is one, since ya are still here an' not up there."

Rogue pointed to the sky with her thumb, as if to indicate escape from the planet.

Wizard Needs Food Badly

"And I'm sure this information is available for a very reasonable price," Nick said dryly. "Of course if we were to buy we'd require proof besides your Uncle Obabdiah's honor. No offense meant."

Trump delenda est

"A catch? Gentleman and my dear lady, if there were a catch, would I really have just told you about this without namin' a price first?" the man replied, his glib rhetoric managing to broaden his grin slightly. "However, I will say that if you had known my great-uncle Obidiah..." His spiel was briefly interrupted by a dropping of his voice, followed by a breathy proclamation of devotion, which sounded rather like "Lorddeliverhimthroughthebrustlesandtheriversandoverthemountainsanddrawhimintoyourgloriousbosomofrighteousnessamen", as it had all been said in the amount of time it took most people to clear their throat. "...Had you known him, you'd be more inclined to take his honor at my word. A greater man has never lived, let me tell you. He once saved two ramshackle orphanages from bear attacks; in one day!"

Confident that his story had touched the hearts of everyone present, the man tugged lightly on his dirt-painted suit jacket, tapping his foot once against the stone floor for good measure.

"But that's neither the here nor the now. If I do show you the way to our proverbial road to deliverance, then I sure would be thankful if you'd let me come along once the cavalry swoops on in to pick us up. But if you think this information's worth somethin'..." the man raised his eyebrows smoothly, tapping his foot against the floor one more time for good measure. Perhaps he just liked the clop sound it made when hard leather met stone. "I'm sure we can work somethin' out later."

edited 15th Jan '12 6:28:58 AM by DoctorThunder