Windhelm Barracks
Tremont is conflicted. He knows the way to the front entrance is to the left, but he doesn't know for sure that it's his friends intruding. He knows Tahn has a point and the source of the feathers isn't someone Tremont knows personally, but he's also wary of trusting Tahn's advice.
He ultimately follows the feathers, albeit taking it slow.
Palace of the Kings
"Oh? What could be so urgent that you don't have time for me?" Schezo asks in an accusing tone.
"A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."Makima
raises an eyebrow at the part about the Loan. But it's a performative one, mostly meant to show Nymbulda that she heard that. Her true reaction to that information, she keeps close to her chest. For it wouldn't do for her to reveal how giddy she feels at knowing that the mighty knight is, as anyone else in the world, bound by such material things as money.
It was a weakness to exploit - especially after seeing how happy Denji was with her, the young man's tension dropping as Nymbuylda held unto him. Yet it wasn't fully gone, what's with Makima standing there.
Hihi, it's so fun when you purr like a cat! Denji says. He'd add "but you're a fish!" but he knew she wouldn't like to be called that. And as such, the usually blunt Denji actively refrained himself from making that comment.
Which reminded him - he hadn't thought of asking her her species's name again, doh!
We are named Public Defense. Money merely fund the tools which we use to defend humans against Devils... or each other, she adds. We would be glad to hire your services. Some would call it mercenary work. I would call it charitable slaying. And you will be paid if you want - although the Yen might be hard to convert as a currency to your world.
Makima smiles.
I can always convert it myself if needed
Nautolan picture belongs to Bonesmarinated on twitter"Good. After everything you've been through, you need it," Wanda says, putting her hands on her sons' shoulders.
"Hey, if I ever run into a female Ninten, what the odds she's gonna call herself Barbie?" Pietro chimes in.
-
"Let's see what they want. Iris is right, they don't appear to have anything malicious in mind," Thor says.
"Hopefully, they'll not go running off screaming at the sight of us," Loki says.
"If they're any of our children or descendants from the future or some alternate timeline, I'm going to have several questions," Sylvie says.
MAKIMA
Smiling at Denji's remark, she almost had half a mind to nuzzle him. But seeing Makima's expression she stopped. A sudden protectiveness washed over her, and she simply ruffled Denji's hair. Still smiling, but she was focused on Makima's word.
"Pay me for my actions. You like it, you pay. But I will not take a mercenary's banner. Devils are dangerous, and they don't seem to care for people."
She steeled her expression, looking back at Makima with conviction.
"That puts them at my Lance's end."
AwawaMakima
whistles, and Denji moves over to her, freeing himself from Nymbulda to do so. The actual movements are fairly mechanic - as if she was using a remote to guide a robot to her. He doesn't even look apologetic for doing so, letting her stroke his hair as he almost clutch her leg. Which he only doesn't do because she glances at him in disapproval when he attempts to.
... Good boy.
Denji glances up at Makima in nervous joy, then sit down when she gestures down at the ground.
When Makima glances back at Nymbulda, her smile is a bit wider.
Of course they are. They're like dragons, fitting preys for a brave knight like you to slay. Not all Devils are born... appear equal. Their power is tied to the fear their name evoke, you see. And though no one fears paper, there are plenty of little bundles of fear across history that had devils manifest as them. Guns... War... Darkness... Even the sea itself was a cradle of fear for ancient men. So... your methods might falter. Your charge might be met with overwhelming violence not even your bravery or skills can handle.
Makima joins her hands together, again.
And you might die.
Edited by Bolded1 on Nov 28th 2024 at 12:46:24 PM
Nautolan picture belongs to Bonesmarinated on twitterWindhelm Barracks
Tahn would question the choice to not even check, but he's too sleepy to complain. Besides, Tremont seems to have some kind of plan in mind given the whole feathers thing. Claus follows too.
In the middle of the hallway though, they'll suddenly see Dheginsea nearby. He was coming their way, also about to check out what the sound was. He halts, and so does Claus. Are they busted? Is this guy really on their side or is he going to rat them out? Claus is frozen to the spot, because if they run, he may shout.
Dheginsea looks conflicted, but then opens a door to the right and gestures for them to go in. A peek will reveal that it seems to be a normal-looking medieval storage room.
There's footsteps coming in fast from behind Dheginsea. Cultists for sure. No shouting yet, so they haven't spotted the kids yet.
Trust Dheginsea?
- Yes
- No
—
Palace of the Kings
"Well, you see... I was getting ready to head out to a very special initiation." , Julius chuckles.
"But perhaps that can wait. They won't get started without me anyway."
He sees the guards outside slowly getting back up. Had Julius not already known that Schezo was something special, he would have executed said guards for just letting him charge through.
Said guards, once back to it, notice the sounds of others approaching as well...
Blackreach Base
Tommy and Billy don't seem to get the joke. But Ken does, and he suddenly starts laughing.
"Why's he laughing?", Tommy asks, confused. When Ken notices that both of them are confused by his reaction, he laughs even harder.
Now he really sounds like Ninten.
"Are you okay?"
"J-just go before I laugh hard enough to open my wounds.", Ken jokingly says, waving at the two for them to leave.
The twins clearly don't get it, but they do as asked and leave the room for now. Pilly'd be back soon with a soda for him, maybe he'll have calmed down by then.
—
"Sounds good to me."
Iris starts leading everyone to the entrance/exit (yeah, they know the way by now, but she's in the front so it counts in her head). Once there Iris opens the door with a code panel on the wall.
The kids immediately duck further behind the rock, clearly afraid that they were spotted. Iris noticed and looks back at Sylvie.
"You should go first. 'Cause you look like the most approachable appearance-wise. ... well, you tie with me, but you don't have wings so they won't be as confused.", she says with a slight smirk. She stops teasing.
"They're obviously scared by something. So it's probably for the best if we don't all go to them at the same time or they'll feel overwhelmed. Which is why I suggested Sylvie goes first."
In the year 202X, all is devastation... Soon, any last shred of hope had by the saintliest optimist shall die and decay.MAKIMA
As soon as Denji leaves her side and begins to... not act like Denji, Nymbulda feels an overwhelmingly strong desire to just, grab this thing. This Ngayurnangalku. Body-snatcher.
Demon.
Snap her, drown her. Protect her pod. Her vassals.
Nymbulda on the outside could seemingly be just envious. Envious for Denji's attention. His warmth. His company.
But her distaste was because THAT... That codependent, canid display... That was not Denji.
Luminance radiated across Nymbulda's body, almost like tattoos carving themselves into her flesh as it trailed up to her face. Dotted lines and stripes that only framed her bulk. She craned over the two, almost seemingly gaining height.
Before stopping suddenly taking a tentative meter back. The glowing on her body ceased, and she looked back to Makima's face.
She knew what she was doing. And Nymbulda hated that. Though she took a few steps forward after Makima's little comment-
"I've died before. It's not foreign to me.
And I'd gladly lay my life down the line again."
AwawaThe Coming War
Dewa Faisung slinked through the shadows, putting his shotgun up as he scanned the surroundings.
"Do what you will, Wilhelm. I'll cover you. Same for you, Gravia."
Though both could sense some tenseness in the prince, as he kept his eyes peeled on the surrounding foundry. With a raise of his hand Arzohis quickly jumped to his side.
"Why you mopey bro?"
"I am not. But I refuse to be a weak link. Too quiet. This is intentional."
"Oh! The calm before the storm right?"
"Something like that. Activate your camouflage and go up the walls. Slowly. Report back with a ping if you see something. Because whatever is out here, will see you by then."
Arzohis nodded, and soon disappeared from sight, quickly jumping onto the foundry walls as he ascended up their tall vertical lengths, hoping to see more in the factory from a higher point of view.
AwawaGlitchin' out
🤔
You know what? He trusts you, Shadow the Hedgehog from the hit game Sonic Adventure 2 for the SEGA Dreamcast. You are the Good Guys.
oh hey the robot's coming back-
"'EEP!"
The comically small person becomes even comically smaller for a moment à la Kirby Smash Bros duck, flattening himself as Omega sails above them.
However that is resolved, once it's done Boyfriend pops back up, says 'we do not claim this Blue person', and yeets a microphone at Blue Bowser straight out of Hammerspace with bonking intent.
Edited by Rbade on Nov 28th 2024 at 4:15:37 AM
/\。。/\There Be Dragons
If Soulstealer wasn't mad before, he was now. Snarling at the injury, Veyolkos would only get a few seconds warning before the Elder Dragon used his heat explosion to force him to either back off or get blasted with enough heat that surrounding trees burst into flame.
And through said flames and smoke would Soulstealer charge, uncaring of his injuries or the fact he's on fire as he attempts to run Veyolkos down like a frenzied Akantor.
"That was a pointless encounter with a pointless person."There Be Dragons
Veyolkos snarls as he is thrown back. He is able to keep a grip in the root in his mouth, bloodied from both of their life-essence. His right wing is torn. He's forgotten how ruthless Arena folk are. But he doesn't make the mistake again. Cracking one stone across another, he makes another Neanderthal-like spear head and begins to tie into the roof, running blooding and burning across the forest floor before turning especially sharply, hoping to trail the bladed root across the elder dragon's throat and neck.
Their pride was getting in the way, both weren't willing to back down.
So be it.
AwawaWanda and Pietro simply follow Tommy and Billy out of the room.
-
After the Asgardians have followed Iris outside to where the mysterious boys are hiding, Thor and Loki both shoot perplexed looks at her.
"I beg your pardon?"
"What exactly makes me unapproachable?"
Shrugging, Sylvie makes her way towards the newcomers' hiding spot with her hands raised.
"I don't know if you two are somehow related to my family in any way, but don't worry, no one here is going to hurt you."
Tropique
Previous Post: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/posts.php?discussion=14315151240A21923900&page=15677#comment-391910
Partner Post: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/posts.php?discussion=14315151240A21923900&page=15678#comment-391934
Tropique
While that punch was meant to be a finishing blow, Jerrod didn't truly expect it to land with absolute certainly, because there was ultimately still room for Sukuna to avoid it, something the sorcerer displayed by heading forward and upward. Quick to realize that he is at risk of overextending, the EGO user quickly retracted his fist, something that gave him just enough time to avoid the punishing Dismantle from creating a large wound on his body, suffering only a small cut on his right abdomen instead.
Looking up at Sukuna, Jerrod realized that as long as he try to avoid significant injuries or refuse to take risks, he will never have a chance to land a proper blow against the incarnation. As such, instead of avoiding the Dismantle as usual, the young man crouched down and performed a mighty leap that launched him right towards his opponent at an angle that allows him to avoid only a few potentially lethal Dismantles flying his way, such as those aimed for his neck.
In addition, he didn't even use his golden portals or dimension tears to reposition himself in order to try and surprise the sorcerer. Jerrod actually charged right through the flying slashes, resulting in large, bleeding gashes appearing on his thighs, legs, and chest. Despite this, he can't help but feel very pleased because none of the Dismantles fired were aimed at his arms. As such, the ritual-bearer was able to throw an immensely powerful punch at his opponent's neck with his gauntlet as he met Sukuna's charge, while keeping the blade on his right hand at the ready in case his punch was defended against.
The devil whale has a lot of Anders's attention for a good while, with him trying to tune his connection to the waters to better understand it... Though Pina's glare does slightly disrupt that, and soon enough it seems like the group wants to move on nonetheless. After a moment to glance at the group, then back at the whale again, Anders turns to move with them but still faces the big guy for a bit, checking to make sure it'll follow.
"Hopefully you understand, even if it's difficult to speak properly..."
Knowing that such a large being is accompanying them is... actually reassuring, all things considered. Though to be fair, Anders doesn't know what to expect, and the experience with the wraiths earlier was more than a bit harrowing. And, mulling it over for a bit... There's probably someone he should spend some time getting to know, ain't there? He hurries along slightly faster than he'd been walking before in order to catch up, tensing slightly as he draws near to the shortcut...
He's faster than one would expect, unless they happened to assume there's more to his leg muscles than initially made apparent given he can onehand a comedically oversized sword without issue. Regardless, soon Anders pulls up relatively close to Pina, contemplating her more with curiosity than anything else. Plus the mild hope that she'd be open to some more meaningful discussion. Speaking of which, he'll lead with a bit of questioning. See what she has to say.
"So... I've been meaning to ask. How long have you spent down here? It seems like you're at least... well familiar with the general area. Even though it doesn't look or sound like a great place to stay."
The fact that only 140 characters are allowed here is honestly so disappointing to me. TUNNELS (Hollow Rock)
Astral Knight Konngara
Konngara would follow behind Pina and the rest. Staying close to the middle of the path, her wispy lower body would snake around the railings as she went past them. The blade that ran through her head would always get up close to the ceiling, before each set of stairs let the yaksha descend.
Suddenly, the Astral Knight had an ominous feeling...
...'infested'...? Oh dear... Konngara let off a sigh, shook her head, and subsequently moved her right hand, grabbing the handle of her sword and preparing to unsheathe it at the first sign of trouble.
Arbormark
Bordering the Freljord and Demacia are a plethora of small states and lordships. Civilizations unfortunately sitting between the maw of great giants. A new player had entered the game, and it's presence was far more unsettling.
It was marked by flocks of Laitiverns flying south, returning north with hordes of Manticores, Brackern, and Troll. They heard stories of humans which worshipped an infernal roc, gathering at the roosting spots of ancient drakes. Of castles that bore an insignia none could recognize, proudly displayed on walls erected atop the mountains. Those of the Iron Boar, and The Bellowing Ways would come from these settlements, ranting and raving. Speaking tongues more like grunts and clicks, whistling and hissing.
They were of the "Kuh-rej"... Under the rule of a Skylord-
Veyolkos.
Strange people from Demacia would come up to talk with the locals, they never shared their names. Never uttered their House's title.
But they were obsessed with that name. Asking for any one who bore the talon-flame mark.
Marreik was a small settlement, which bore one of the few forests atop the steppe. It brought with it a profitable timber industry, and while it could export fine wooden and fleece goods on the road, it's remote nature meant it wasn't sought after to raise a family. Travelers were decently common.
Especially one traveler in particular.
The village children waited at the mouth of the road through the northern forest pass. They had been told not to do that, what with such hostile raptor and wolf packs in the area. But the three kids- one eight year old boy with dirty blonde hair and a scarred nose, one nine year old brunette girl with a tooth missing from each jaw, and a nine year old boy with raven black hair and lean build -never cared much for their chores. And always wanted to catch a glimpse of the man they had heard pass the town in night. A strange, but kind soul, if distant, who sold things from far off lands.
They were not dissuaded from waiting after hearing that he only came through town at night. Which in these forests was an odd enough sight to begin with. They didn't care that he usually kept his head low. Or that he asked questions no one could answer, they just wanted to see-
"There!" The little girl would shout, pointing at a humanoid shape coming through the evershade of the canopy that blanketed the road. A pair of large moccasins came through, both worn and yet still possessing an ornate quality as ivory crescent decorations clicked together. Black baggy pants frilled and layered jingled as they bore sea shells studdings.
The youngest boy crawled onto the top of the fence railing that marked the edges of the road into town, staring forward with a bewildered expression. Because he didn't dress like any northman he had ever seen. He wore a teal chiton with psychedelic pictures on the ends of his sleeves and a dark red wrap with swirling gold marks on his waist.
As they took a step out of the shade and were just a dozen feet from the fence which marked the village boundry, the oldest boy was a bit frightened by the ethereal glare of the man. He was a head taller than most in the village, with amber orange bangs and sun-kissed skin. He hsd sharp ears, and piercing orange eyes. The outsides of which are outlined by white and red markings with the ones underneath forming the appearances of teardrops. What at first seemed to be a smirk was actually a faint purple mark on this stranger's upper lip.
They could not see his hands, and on his back was a billowing cape of fiery patterns and lunar moth eye spots. Though there was also a pretty hefty pack on his back.
"...woah." Was all the older boy could say as they stared back at the man, some 6'1 oddity that resembled nothing of what they had heard about those of the Freljord.
Assuming, that's where he's from.
"...Hello." They also didn't have a northman's accent. It was, something else. Ethereal, but it seemed inlayed with a subtle amusement. Curiosity maybe? But it was far from hoarse, or nasally.
Regardless the kids smiled back at him. Thid had to be the guy, but how could they go about asking it-
"Are you the stranger?" The bluntness of the youngest got the other two to start swatting him.
"You can't just ask him that!!" A shrill girl's voice wrang out-
"Now he's going to think we're weirdos!" Responded the older boy in kind as he tried to separate the two.
"Arpaktiko."
It came off as a warm chucjle.from the stranger, and the kids paused their rather anxiety driven friendly fire. They saw the man smiling faintly back at them.
"Arpaktiko. It's my name. It is an odd name, but I assume its more interesting than The Stranger." He waltzed past them, his clothes and pack rattling.
The girl was the first to follow agter him, trying to keep pace as she spoke up, "Don't you come at night usually?"
"I do. But I would like to lighten my pack of a few things." There's was no animosity, or annoyance. Nothing that told the three kids they were being a nuisance. This Arpaktiko carried a sort of confidence that only a seasoned traveler can bare. One the older boy wished to help in anyway he could.
"Would you need help... finding where to sell your uh, goods?" There were moments where his voice seemed to slow or crack, as if he wanted Arpaktiko to see something embarrassing. Rather it was about his earlier behavior or something about the town was hard to discern.
Luckily Arpaktiko gently nodded his head 'no', meeting him eye to eye. "You fortunately need not to do so. I remember the square." He then looked back ahead of him, at the small timber-framed and post-and-beam construction of Marreik, and continued towards the Plaza, the kids following behind.
The youngest had of course, no qualms with being a nag in the questioning department, but he looked to the other two confused before asking something he thought was obvious:
"What do you sell?"
"Goods from around the world..."
"...But mostly knick knacks and books."
Laid out atop a blanket was an assortment of oddities the children had never seen. The blanket itself was already fascinsting: finger-woven strips of cedar bark wrapped in yarn made from mountain goat wool as the warp and blue & green dyed fury horn wool as the weft. There was a fine piltover wrist watch and broche, several fearsome masks, fabrics from the north, a ornate scale of ivory and gold, and the most striking was a hill troll panflute. The kids were wide eyed, talking amidst eachother as they speculated what each gadget and decorative piece meant.
It didn't surprise Arpaktiko they didn't care for the books he had. Children either lived to read or hated it, no in-between. Same could be said for adults. Though he thought the ones he had were pretty good. They were his works afterall, along with some translated Ionian texts he had. They could speak Demacian, right?
The youngest chipped in once again, lifting up a tengu-mask and trying to look through its eye slits, "Where'd you get all these?" There was no suspicion laced in his inquisition.
Arpaktiko seemed to smile at this question with a bit more sincerity than he had the others. "I have traveled the world. Well, Valoran and Ionia. I spent some time in Northern Shurima above the Sai Faraj. I was actually on my way to the mountains that bordered the Renek River, and the Sai Kahleek."
"Shurima? Why?" The kid now sat across from him, mirroring the cross legged manner the trader held themselves.
"Oh, just to see a king."
Sitting atop the cobbled earth, the other market salesmen looked startled. Some tried to not show it, cutting him side glances from behind their small wooden stalls. But others, such as the candle maker and butcher, were leaning over to hear the gossip.
And just like that the children's eyes widened, and The Trader was bombarded by questions, of how many Kings he had seen, how many knights he had sat down with and had dinner. Any pirate lords he had bested. If he had ever seen a dragon.
Before he could answer them, a woman in her late 20s approached the man, the kids scattering as she looked down at him with some scrutiny. Oh, Arpaktiko recognized that look. He narrowed his eyes, expecting this blonde-valkyrie to impoae some wisdom about how he should take a hike.
She leaned in close, he voice quiet but hoarse, her steppe accent thick.
"I am looking for... some... "literature", if you have it."
She crossed her plaided sleeves, looking to him as if he were a fox in the hen house. Arpaktiko blinked confusedly before growing suddenly flushed. He went into his pack and pulled out a wooden box, which laid in it 5 smaller scrolls all nicely rolled up.
"I didn't expect such a question to be asked when the noon-star had just lowered." He handed the box to her, his composed expression returning to normal. She eyed him further, seeing the cape slowly rise and fall over something, long as the salesman was tall probably, something she couldn't tell. But she wasn't going to snoop. She had already putting both of them on the spot.
"...star consort?"
"Targonian print and make. I had acquired it from a auction. It's part of a set, with few copies. Luckily I know a certain caretaker who preserved some for my collection." The look she gave him told him everything. But he didn't think to try and argue or correct it.
"Perv."
"Art historian. If you want to learn more, I have a Avarosan journal made as a cultural analysis of pre-rune war motifs from that region." The amused cadence of this man was unrivaled. In fact, it was a little too sweet. There had to be a price she didn't see. These goods were too good.
"...what's the price for the book?"
"12 Valors. But for the Star Consort, double. But, I also take... your own art piece."
The woman seemed stunned, and leaned in again to ask-
"...repeat good sir."
"The Star Consort are illustrations and prose directly from the Luminous Ward himself. I know him, and a skilled artist. But I dont know you. Or what this town makes. It's a fault I need to state is my own. Prior I just passed through during the dead hours. Only the innkeeper knew my name. Do you happen to be a wood carver?"
She seemed at first a little freaked out, nodding a bit before he spoke up.
"I am on my way to Demacia. And will come back up through here. I want to exchange a piece, and I can return with some of the Valors and Silver Serpents that you deserve. But I also want to keep a piece. What would you say. Two pieces, or one?"
The blonde paced back and forth, looking to the wooden box to further unscroll the "Star Consort". Something caught her eye, and she quickly took the scroll and handed him the box, searching through her pockets for some of the coinage.
"Anything in particular... Mister..?"
"Arpaktiko. And while I would ask for something of your own personal taste...
I wouldn't mind a piece depicting a local monster."
He had placed two Valors on the counter of the inn, taking his seat in the lantern light of the room as the windows seeped with late dusk.
He had a good day.
An ocarina, some text, fabrics, and that piltover set. Some good coinage, and he wasn't particularly stressed about his coffers prior to entering town. But he couldn't pass some good opportunities.
They had provably believed to have swindled him. Afterall, wood work for Targonian print? A month's earnings for some Piltover goods? They hardly believed he was shrewd.
Well, there was some truth to it he had to admit. But Arpaktiko seemed to love the expressions on their faces. True, genuine fascination. An expression that sometimes would soften up for banter. Others their best attempt at a poker face. Never hostility.
Humans were so diverse and odd. This small town wasn't perfect, but it did leave him feeling...
Warm...
The sliding of some cider across the table caught his attention. An older woman, thick white haired and full faced, the shorter gal had to be in her early 70s. Dressed in thick plaid gown she took a seat across from Arpaktiko, putting on some thick glasses as she got a look at the man.
"...Arpaktiko?"
"Yes Misses May?" That's was him all right, that overly calm voice, that stare that most found intense but she knew was just relaxed, overpowering confidence. Though it was all so odd having him in town for so long.
"Heading back to Demacia?"
"And Piltover. Might even take a peak at Zaun too." He added with a light chuckle, causing Misses May to look at her map of Valoran, than back to the man with concern etching her face.
"On foot? You do all of this on foot?"
Her tone surprised Arpaktiko, who cocked his head back at her as if he had not heard her correctly. "Is there a problem with that?"
"Why yes, your feet have to be clubs at this point. And your knees with that pack of yours! If this is going to be your lifestyle, a Bantham Beasts or Elmark can help keep that youthful visage of yours."
She expected him to laugh her off, or look unimpressed. Unenthused. But instead, she could see a distant stare come from him. Not directly pointed at her, but beyond her. Misses May looked behind her and saw... nothing. Her looking the same direction must have alerted Arpaktiko that he was being odd.
"You are kind Misses May... I shall consider it. Truth be told I sometimes find myself in unsavory situations. And I have not the heart for anything or anyone else to get hurt."
The older woman looked surprised at this, which in turn, had The Trader return to his typical, gentle grin.
"That's sweet. Idealistic, stupid, but sweet. An Elmark could easily be a good steed and attack animal. If you're gonna come back, at least have a an Elmark with you so I know you weren't killing your poor hips."
A short snicker left the man's lips, as he would bring the keg of apple cider to his lips and take a few deep drinks, before gently setting the wooden bottom to the table. "Understood. I'll make sure to get something nice for you too."
"Oh you don't have to... But if you must insist..."
Second floor. Nightstand, Table, Closet, King-Sized bed. Woolen sheets. Autumn Cinder-petals within a stone vase that helped warm the room.
Fancy for a steppe inn. Almost reminded him of the average den back home.
He took a bandana and wrapped it around his head and hair, keeping his hair in shape as he took the chair out to sit down.
He took a journal from his pack, a plain bkue-dyed leather back. The handwriting within it was of the freljordian family, though any linguists would find it more... abstract.
On the back of The Trader's hands were tattoos, resembling flames burning into the symbol of talons. His long nails were hooked, more like a raptors set of claws. And yet he was surprisingly deft in the use of the charcoal-granite pen he bore, writing down into the journal:
ᛙˎ╮◟ו ⸍◟ᛁި× ⠃⸝◟◟ᛁᛁᛍ (Fourth Trip: Marreik)
Slumping off his cape finally, his long golden-rufous tail swaying behind him, scales splayed across its length Pangolin-like till forming a blade at its end. Stretching, he yawned, revealing elongated canines. Lowering the light on the oil-lamp on the table, his pupils became far more feline, widening as he focused on his journal.
This would be short and sweet for a journal entry. And if anything would serve as a inventory of what he had sold today. Though there was a warmness in his text, his eyes following the obadidian black chunk at the end of his pen.
"ˎ⸜ ⠃ᛁ ᛙˎ╮◟ו ᛁˎ╮◟⸜ᛁᛁ ᚽᛁ◟ᛁ, ᛁ ╮⸝╵ ⸝⸍⠃ᛁ⸍⸍ᛁ⸍⸌ᛁ ╵ᚽˎᛍᛍᛁ⸍ ו⸝⸍ וᛁ╵ ╵⠃⸝⸌⸌ ⸌╮⠃ިᛁ◟ ᛍˎ⠃⠃╮⸜ᛁ⸍ᛁ ᚽ⸝⸍ ިᛁᛍˎ⠃ᛁ ╵ˎ ᛁ⸜⸍ᛁ◟ᛁ╵⸍ᛁ⸍ ᛁ⸜ ⠃ᛁ. ᛁ ᚽ⸝╮ᛁ ⸜ˎ ᛁ⸍⸝ ᚽˎ╮ ⸌ˎŊ וˎ╵ᛁ ᛁˎ╮Ŋ ⸝⸍ וᛁ ╮ᛁ⸌⸌⸝ᛍᛁ×╵ ⠃⸝╮ ⸝╮⸝ᛁ⸍ᛁ⸍ ᛙˎ◟ ⠃ᛁ ◟ᛁ⸍╮◟⸜. ᛁ⸜ ⸝⸜ᛁ ˎוᛁ◟ ᛍᛁ◟ᛍ╮⠃╵⸍⸝⸜ᛍᛁ, ᛁ⸍ ╮ˎ╮⸌⸍ ިᛁ ⸍ˎ ⸝⸌ᛁ◟⸍ וᛁᛁ◟ ᛁ⸌⸍ᛁ◟╵, ި╮⸍ ᚽᛁ◟ᛁ... וᛁᛁ ⸝ᛍ⸍ᛁ⸍ ᛁ⸜ ⸝╮ᛁ. ᛁ⠃ި⸝◟◟⸝╵╵ᛁ⸍ ިᛁ וᛁᛁ◟ ˎ╮⸍ި╮◟╵⸍╵, ᛍ╮◟Ö╮╵ ⸍ˎ ⠃ᛁ ╵⸍ˎ◟ᛁᛁ╵, ⸌ˎˎᛍᛁŊ ᛙˎ◟ ⠃ᛁ ╮⸝⸌ᛁ⸍⸝⸍Ö⸜. ⠃ˎ╵⸍ ╵ᛁ⸌⸌ᛁ◟╵ ⸝⸍ וᛁ ⠃⸝◟ᛍᛁ⸍ ᛁᛍ⸜ˎ◟ᛁ⸍ ⠃ᛁ, ި╮⸍ וˎ╵ᛁ ╮ᚽˎ ⸍ᛁ⸍⸜×⸍, ᚽ⸝⸍ ⸝ ᛍ╮◟Ö╵ᛁ⸍ᛁ ⸝⸌⠃ˎ╵⸍ ⸝╵ ╵⸍◟ˎŊ ⸝╵ וᛁ ᛁˎ╮Ŋ×╵. ⸝⸜⸍ וᛁ ᛁ⸜⸜ᛍᛁᛁިᛁ◟... ᛁ ╮ᛁ⸌⸌ ⸜ˎ⸍ ⸌ᛁᛁ, ᛁ ᛙᛁ⸌⸍ ⸝ ᛍᛁ⸜⸍⸌ᛁ⸜ᛁ╵╵ ⸍ˎ╮⸝◟⸍╵ ᚽᛁ◟. ╵ᚽᛁ ᛙ◟ᛁ⸍⸍ᛁ⸍ ˎ╮ᛁ◟ ⠃ᛁ ╵⸝ᛙᛁ⸍ᛁ ˎᛙ ⸝⸌⸌ וᛁŊ╵. ⸌ᛁᛍᛁ וᛁ ᛁ⸌⸍ᛁ◟╵ ⸍ᛁ⸍ ި⸝ᛍᛍ ⸝⸍ וᛁ ◟ˎˎ╵⸍ ╮ᚽᛁ⸜ ᛁ ╮⸝╵ ި╮⸍ ⸝ ᛙ⸌ᛁ⸍ᛍ⸌ᛁŊ. ⸍ᚽᛁ ⸍ˎ╮⸜ ᚽ⸝⸍⸜×⸍ ◟⸝⸌⸌ᛁ ᛍ◟ˎ╮⸜. ᛁ ᛍˎ╮⸌⸍ ⸝◟ᛍ╮ᛁ ިᛁ╵ᛁ⸍ᛁ╵ וᛁ ⸌╮⠃ިᛁ◟ ˎިᛁ◟⸝⸍Ö⸜, ᛁ⸍ ᚽ⸝⸍ ᛍ◟ˎ╮⸜ ╵⠃⸝⸌⸌ᛁ◟. ި╮⸍ ᛁ⸍╵ ᚽ⸝◟⸍, ᚽ⸝⸍ ╵ˎ⠃ᛁᚽˎ╮ ◟ᛁ⠃⸝ᛁ⸜ ╮⸜ᛍᚽ⸝Ŋᛁ⸍. ⸝⸍ ⸌⸝╵⸍ ᛙ◟ˎ⠃ ⸝ ᛍ╮◟╵ˎ◟ᛁ ᛍ⸌⸝⸜ᛍᛁ. ⠃⸝ᛁިᛁ ˎ⸜ᛁ ⸍⸝ᛁ, ᛁ ᛍ⸝⸜ ᛁ⸜⸍ᛁ◟ ⸝╵ ⸝ ᛍᛁŊ. ⸝⸜⸍ ިᛁ ⠃ᛁ⸍ ╮ᛁו וᛁ ╵⸝⠃ᛁ ╮⸝◟⠃⸜ᛁ╵╵.... ╮⸜⸌ᛁᛍᛁ⸌ᛁ."
(On my fourth journey here, I was admittedly shocked that this small lumber community had become so interested in me. I have no idea how long those young at the village's maw awaited for my return. In any other circumstance, it would be to alert their elders, but here... they acted in awe. Embarrassed by their outbursts, curious to my stories, looking for my validation. Most sellers at the market ignored me, but those who didn't, had a curiosity almost as strong as the young's. And the innkeeper... I will not lie, I felt a gentleness towards her. She fretted over my safety of all things. Like the elders did back at the roost when I was but a fledgling.
The town hadn't really grown. I could argue besides the lumber operation, it had grown smaller. But its heart, had somehow remain unchanged. At least from a cursory glance.
Maybe one day, I can enter as a king. And be met with the same warmness....
Unlikely.)
He sighed, closing the journal ad he went to turn off the oil lamp completely. There he caught a glimpse of himself in the window, framed by dying light.
"...handsome as always."
He shot finger guns at his own reflection, before going to stretch again, moving towards the bed. He undid his moccasins to kick them off, revealing falcon-like talons as he walked tiredly to the bed. Jumping onto the mattress like a animal, he curled himself up, shielding his face with his tail as he soon began to doze off comfortably atop woolen sheets.
Veyolkos needed all his strength for tomorrow.
Edited by ArbiterOfTheBog on Nov 29th 2024 at 4:47:18 AM
Awawa"As in, you're both tall guys, and Thor's also buff. That might come off as more intimidating to a pair of scared children.", Iris says, smiling as she explains her logic.
Meanwhile with Sylvie, two small gasps come out as they realize they were spotted.
"Someone saw us!"
"Yeah, I know!"
"What do we do now!?"
"I dunno... uh... uh..."
...
The two slightly peek out from behind the rock. Sylvie may be a little taken aback at their appearances. The pink-haired boy has a scar on his nose, what seems to be burn scars on his face, and one of his eyes lacks color, meaning he may be potentially blind in that eye.
The blue-haired boy looks unhealthily pale, sporting a dark mark over one of his eyes and looking so tired that it's a miracle he's still conscious right now.
"Are you a G.E.M. soldier!?", the pink haired boy calls out to Sylvie.
In the year 202X, all is devastation... Soon, any last shred of hope had by the saintliest optimist shall die and decay.Thor and Loki exchange looks following Iris's explanation before shrugging.
"Fair enough."
"I suppose I can see that logic."
Sylvie, meanwhile, raises an eyebrow at the boys' appearances.
"Unless G.E.M. soldier uniforms have suddenly had a complete bloody overhaul, I think you can rule that possibility out," she replies. "Why? They didn't do any of... that to you, right? Because G.E.M. sure as Hel doesn't torture and scar kids."
Blackreach
The boys don't really look convinced when Sylvie talks about G.E.M.
"Yeah they did!" , the pink-haired boy says, sounding angry. As that happens, while an aura doesn't form, there's still static forming around him as if there would be one.
"And I don't believe that you don't know that. If you're not with them, why would you be in a building that has their logo on it!?"
The blue-haired boy looks intimidated. Partly by what he thinks the current situation is, but also apparently from the sparks that his friend is creating.
"Y-you're doing it again!", he says. The pink-haired boy glances at him.
"Sorry, but I'm just really angry right now!"
The blue-haired boy starts to full-on look afraid... and sparks start forming around him as well. This is looking less like they're actively creating them and more like they just happen in response to their emotional states.
Iris sees the sparks happening and pauses.
"Whoa, uh, things look like they could escalate. Do we do something, or...?"
In the year 202X, all is devastation... Soon, any last shred of hope had by the saintliest optimist shall die and decay.Hollow Rock
At the mention of infected by Konngara and her readying for action, Elizabeth opted to follow suit rather than ask Anders how his whale talking went. She also had Harvey keep an eye and ear out for any sign of trouble whilst doing so herself.
Burning Sandstorm in Lourent - Aftermath
Stella flinched a little at Charlian putting a hand on her shoulder but soon relaxed. His words do make her sniffle a little, Stella no doubt not wanting to cry in front of strangers but she does take his offered hand. Though her grip is maybe a tad bit too strong.
"I'd like that." she mumbles.
Gundam Borger
"Err... yes. Haro is a Haro." Nena blinks, patting the aforementioned ball shaped robot. "Celestial Being made them to do boring stuff like maintenance or assist Meisters like me in the cockpit by automatic certain functions. Haro handles the Drei's ECM suite for me."
There Be Dragons
Soulstealer is fast enough to avoid getting neck slashed, instead the spear slashing his shoulder as he course corrects. He hisses and skids to a stop, turning around to face Veyolkos again. Energy gathers in his mouth before he fires a shotgun blast version of his standard heat beam.
"That was a pointless encounter with a pointless person."Burning Sandstorm in Lourent
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Tabalia, Lourent
With a pat, Charlian stood up and guided Stella towards the Huckebein's cockpit with a small smile on his face after successfully convincing her to accept help and keep moving forward. "Thanks for fetching her Amelias, I'll take it from here. Contact me when you need my stregth in battle." The young man gave his comrade a grateful nod before opening the cockpit. This time, instead of piloting the machine herself, she'll be a guest who sits by Charlian's side as he started up the Boxer once more. The not-Gundam would then step out of its exoskeleton and reconfigure it into its G-Sword Diver form, before riding on it like a hoverboard towards Hub Centralis, where he'll have her meet up with his two roommates. Hopefully, this'll be the last time she'll have to fight in a war.
Charlian Jackson
- Bolded Text: Loudspeaker / Comms
- Huckebein Boxer
(Replication)
- Height: 28.4 meters
- Weight: 113.7 metric tons
- Weapons: Vulcan Cannons, Roche Saber, Fang Slashers, Photon Rifle (swappable), Graviton Rifle, Geist Knuckle, Catapult Kick
- Special Maneuver: ???
- Equipment: T-Link System, Uranus System, Gravi-Con System (G Territory)
- Ability: Afterimage
The Wrong End
"... Damn it." Matthew does as agreed, even knowing that it was the woman's word. She and Metal Blaze were in a position to kill him regardless. And he himself had very little to gain from slaying Silco. With the way death worked in the Arena... as such, the young man indeed lowers his weapon, shoulders tensing up as if expecting one or two of the bodyguards to laugh at his foolishness before moving in for the kill.
But then they don't. And all that Matthew has to deal with as he put his rifle back on his back is Silco's smug smile, the Underground boss not appreciating how he had been threatened, but deciding to let bygones be bygones. He wasn't exactly looking for a fight - fights are such a loathsome, unproductive affair to get into unprovoked. Especially when Silco was very well-aware of the environement he was standing in.
Meet Metal Blaze and Irina. I would not walk into a town such as this without an entire army at my side - but taking just those two is perfectly viable as well. Silco says, holding an hand out towards the two "ladies" as he introduce them.
As such, Gau and Casper's own wise decisions not to start a fight are greatly pleasing. Even with Casper being lightly... jubilant, mocking. But Silco could deal with that much more easily than he could deal with a physical assault. Especially when, from the looks of it, the new group would have backup accompanying it very soon - meaning that the former (?) mob boss should take his advantage and run off while he still could.
I do not have a- Something flies right past Silco and into Casper's outstretched hand, although the odds are that he could possibly miss. Either way, a long wooden cane either smoothly land in the palm of his hand... or falls to the ground in a heap at his feet. Thank you, Mirae. Silco sighs, though he try keeping his cool. He had a golden opportunity to please a remnant of Laxin's army right now, by bringing in a "runaway traitor" with an Holocron, but that would complicate a situation he was desperate about seeing come to an easy end.
Mirae had left the Underground a few days ago - and while he was used to her eloping, he could still find her within the Underground. Her disappearing from it entirely was already a tad bit more worrisome. If only because Silco could really use her bizarre prophecies - he chided himself for even relying on those to start with, but still found it even stupider not to rescue a valuable asset.
She'd left clues for them to find. And after a few days, he'd deduced where she was. The dilapidated Anthill, left to rot following a massive attack, whom Silco only knew as an attack, with any further details on its nature unknown to him. Having to undo the barriers and defenses he'd put up himself had not been fun on his mind. As were the mechanics of suddenly leaving his throne, daughter and court unchecked... But he had expected the trip to be a short one.
So anything that could significantly disturb his return, he was going to ignore, politely. Though he still made an effort to keep the Holocron close. He had no idea if that would hurt him or not - but it was a useful gift.
"... Why'd you do that though? Why'd you kidnap Baz like that?" Matthew asks, peering over to Mirae.
you did not trust me in my earlier visions and it delayed us Mirae explained i could not make you follow me into the tunnels... i had to make you. Matthew frowns, unconvinced by the answer.
Your friend is safe. I will only be taking that away from her - it is a tool that the dead lords of her order use to communicate with the living, apparently. You'd do well to question her on why she was hiding that on herself, Silco says, preparing to turn around. He could try recruiting them to the Underground, but he was in a hurry and did not want to find himself having to negotiate. I doubt we'll meet again. I bid you well in your journey, wherever it leads.
He steps away from Baz - who grunts slightly, still being out of it. Unless someone else does it first, Matthew will pick her up, carefully putting his hands on her back and the back of her knees and lifting her up. "Fine." He says, glancing down at Baz in concern. She was concerningly light.
Their journey lead them beyond the Mad Arena. Mirae suddenly cut through, her tone of voice clearer now as she slowly stands up. ... Some of them will escape it..
Silco stops, blink, and slowly crane his head back to glance at Mirae, looking outraged. As if what she told him wasn't her usual creepy foresight, but an actual insult which he had to stop himself from snapping at. Although perhaps his irritation wasn't caused by her. But by the fact that Reed and the others had made it into the room, interrupting from a door on the left of it - whereas Silco seemed to want to slip in from the back.
A minute earlier...
Soan's prodigious transformation deserves a raised eyebrow from Reed but he doesn't see fit to question it. He'd seen weirder things, and Soan's apparently reluctance to use that form was so evident that the FIA Agent saw little use in asking him why he'd held it back. He had usually very little thought in regard to the privacy of others, but right here right now, he was just fine having to navigate these halls with a much more lithe ally.
And as such, Soan and his group are able to easily close the doors behind them, progressing extremely fast through the halls.
That extensive network of tunnels... I'm familiar with it, Reed says as he runs alongside the group. Bigger towns tend to secure their safety by creating underground areas they can escape to when danger comes knocking! Reed says.
He, Soan, Cap and an (unconscious) Siffrin then make it to see that the other members of their groups have been busy - with Baz having been K.O'd and the others left confronting a one-armed russian woman, a humanoid robot cat and the boss of the Underground, Silco, accompanied by his seer, Mirae.
... It wasn't that useful for them in the end, was it, Reed? Silco says, sounding slightly more agitated as he puts his hands behind his back. I thought you were headed for Twillight Town.
Terrorcons got to it.
Silco shrugs, not surprised nor moved.
... What are you doing here? You're not one to step far away from your den. I'm surprised.
And I don't plan on making an habit. Silco says, pointing in Mirae's direction. But I'm not the only here full of surprises - You, trying to escape from the Mad Arena? I didn't think you still had hope, Reed. Silco stares at the group as a whole, looking at how... ragtag it was.
A Gravitas soldier.
A member of Laxin's tattered army.
A boy who'd feriociously kept up with Mirae's full speed.
A tall man, his imposing stature surely concealing a secret.
And another man whom Silco could see... change, in the shadows of the room. Little pair of floating eyes and all.
There is no escape to be made out of this realm. The portals leading out of it... if you can access them, you will be punished by a bolt of lightning, Silco says, sighing exasperatedly, as if describing basic math to children. He even hold up then lower his index, mimicking a bolt of lightning. The King At The End Of The World... Or Ryomen Sukuna, as he calls himself, blast any would-be escapee with lightning bolts from afar. His reach and senses are insanely long - I've tried the farthest portal from the City of the Dead and he got to me. Silco says, voice growing slightly strained as he recalls dying.
And that he wasn't the only one of his group to do so - to have their flesh blasted apart by ligthtning.
"You're bullshiting!" Matthew immediately replies. "It doesn't make any..."
He takes the time to compute - to understand. And a bunch of horrible little details he'd noticed and dismissed across his time in the Mad Arena suddenly start making sense. Like the constant lightning bolts peppering the realm. Soan himself, and Gau, might remember seeing such prodigious spears of lighting themselves, back when the group was making their way towards the Anthill.
I tasted that annihilation for myself - and due to how this world... resurrect its fallen sentient combatants, I was reborn close to the King. In the City of the Dead. It was no easy escape, I'll tell you. Silco says, rubbing his scarred face. It discouraged me from trying any further escapade. Mirae's vision is wrong. So insultingly wrong that I feel like I have to correct it. There is no escape possible from this world. And the sooner you realize it, the sooner you can try to wrangle some sense out of it.
No. I've seen it for myself. This group... The fighters within it, will escape. Some will do - and a few others will fail gloriously. But they will escape for some of them. Mirae steps back and raise her hand, poking at an unseen lever in a corner of the room. It lowers a small flight of stairs from the ceiling. And light instantly stab into the underground lair, as Mirae herself start stepping up the stairs.
If you wish to know more about this... If you wish to avert the events that led to the creation of the Mad Arena... Follow me. She says. If you wish to leave - you will need to wait. Your car is still getting repaired. A gunshot echoes way above. And the marksman has yet to be dispatched. And with that, she steps towards the light-filled room, with an irritated Silco walking up right behind her.
Mirae...!!! Silco's rage, however, is then cut short when he sees where he is.
GORGEOUS GARY'S DISCOFLOOR
It's a disco floor, with a bunch of hacked-apart statues on the side, having been shoved off. Presumably, this is because Mirae sought to fully exploit the entire floor - a glinting disco ball shines over the group's head, with countless lights illuminating them and the entire room they're standing on. Silco stops to stare, completly bedfuddled now.
As familiar song begins to play
as Mirae spins and point her finger at the top of the room, most of which is curiously shadowed.
If you want to understand... you need to... dance. That is all I ask of you.
Silco blinks.
Gas Station
Not bad... Rick mumbles. I'd have had the same idea but I forgot to bring a gizmo. Rick had forgotten to bring a lot of things - it wasn't the first time he'd do that and he intended to not make it his last. The Mad Arena had pissed him the fuck off with the way it had butchered Morty. And he intended to escape it, if only because it was obviously sentient and very dead set about them escaping.
But not dead set enough - the statues are easily confused. All around the Anthill, they flock to the camera, being held at bay and more or less entirely frozen by them. So long as Avia and Rick work together well, they'll be fine. And for his part, Rick is happy to pick up the easy part. Since even if he mess up, well, it's only a camera gone, right?
Yeah, yeah. Wasn't tired with the sound of your voice and everything. Rick grumbles.
The arrows in the tunnel will not lead to the car directly but to a parking with it inside - Koiyu's trip will be a short one, even if she'll have to contend with some occasional bursts of steam. Ones that likely aren't that threatening for her, but might end up surprising her.
That, and the flickering lights of the tunnel - sometimes threatening to plunge her into darkness.
Still, it's a short trip. And Koiyu will make it to the the other side of the gas station via a trap door on a corner of the room. She'll come face to face with a disagreeable sight though - a statue, in the midst of reaching for it. The reason why is obvious - it's due to the fact that the car totalled its brethren, with chunks of them lying about, while a few others are pinned beneath it.
Shit, shit! Shoot it!
If Koiyu does not comply, then the statue lunge at her unless she remembers how, precisely, they work.
If she does comply and acts very quickly, then she'll be able to get rid of it and move on directly to the car. It's in ruins from all the attacks done to it earlier - holes in its windows, or sides, one hole on its wheel, a tattered metal shell... It's busted - whatever strength it managed to use to drag itself to the gas station was the last it could summon. And unless Koiyu put the metal cube right on it, then the gas station will be its final resting place.
But if she does, the cube vanish into the car - it melds into it, becoming a goopy purple liquid that seeps into the vehicle in the blink of an eye. Its "injuries" close up real fast right after that, but that might not be the most surprising part for Koiyu. The most surprising part is that it shifts. Discarding its vehicle appearance for something distinctly more... humanoid.
If she had been at Twillight Town, she'd recognize it - It's a Transformers. And one bearing the dreaded purple insignia inherent to the Decepticons!
Deathswheel turns her left arm into a cannon and jab it towards Koiyu. She's small enough to fit in the actual building -when crouched on all fours-, but it's still a gun the size of Koiyu's upper body being set on her!
Fleshling... M-meatbag! You've straddled around my innards for the LAST time! But if Koiyu does not fight back, then Deathswheel's fury dies a little. And she lowers her arm to glance at her in slight surprise. Blue optics dance within the Cybertronian's face, and she furrows her metal browns in confusion.
No wait... You are not...?
Edited by Bolded1 on Nov 29th 2024 at 9:10:29 PM
Nautolan picture belongs to Bonesmarinated on twitterSylvie quickly motions for the pink-haired boy to calm down.
"Alright, alright, I think I know what's going on here. The guy who did this, did he have brown hair and was he wearing sunglasses? Because that wasn't really him, it was his corpse being used as some twisted flesh puppet by Mara," she assures. "She's the one who manipulated G.E.M. into doing things like that through her puppet. Now, let's turn off the lightning and sort things out calmly."
Thor grits his teeth.
"Of course that sadistic wretch had innocent children tortured through 'Seth'. As if I needed more of a reason to see her rotting in Hel where she belongs," he mutters. "To think, Pseudo actually wants to just let her go while the Divine Guardians happily allow her free reign to indulge in such vile depravities."
Loki frowns.
"Perhaps we ought to give Ishizu a call. I'm finding it very hard to believe that someone like her would even consider approving of something so... distasteful."
There Be Dragons
Soulstealer sees nothing from his blast. Was Veyolkos gone? That's when something slammed forward towards Soulstealer-
A deviljho-sized something. A massive theropod-like beast would attempt to smash into his side, covered in thick black feathers and with a red bare face, and golden bill meant to rend and tear bone. It was sufficiently bulky enough that it practically took up the elder dragon's vision.
Enough that only their 6th dense could alert them of the Laitivern scales heading towards their face.
The earth beneath them rumbled, and they could sense something coming up underneath them-
The Wrong End-Talk
With his cane he seemed to twirl it around a bit, letting Silco explain himself. Occasionally shooting a look at Gau as he walked forward with the cane. He nodded to Mirae, and spoke to Silco rather, casually. While yes it was Jubilant, it was earnest. A tad analytical.
"We all have our loyalties. But Baz doesn't seem like a grand schemer, smart... but to play chess with the dead it requires a callousness and ruthless I haven't seen from her."
He walked forward on the Cane, and having it lean against the wall, began to pick up Baz, gently holding her close to his chest with her head on his shoulder. With a arm wrapped around her, he reached for the cane and continued walking.
"All I've seen is someone empathetic, and selfless.
Again we all have our loyalties, our comforts.
And my conclusion, is what I choose to believe. You can tell me I'm wrong really but... you got to understand sir. We're all tired of this place."
Awawa

MAKIMA
She sees the light scowl and returns the favor, staring down Makima in turn before Denji starts speaking. And she seems to go from trying to read Makima's expression to going flustered in a instance. Full on swooning until Denji mentions her financial status:
"I... I pick up bounties I don't need a loan.." She almost sounded embarrassed before Makima made her statement about her chivalrous duty, taking a more assertive stance as she holds Denji close... unless of course he decides to separate himself from her.
"I am more than willing to help. Not as a agent but as long as you are preventing people from harm, your services align with mine."
Awawa