Standing up from the small hill of shattered glass, The Warrior of the Wasteland fanned out a sleeve, and several shards skipped across the Skyport linoleum ground. And when Owen and Levin - whether the rose-scented falconer on the roof joined them was a matter of opinion, at this point - regrouped behind her, she shrugged her shoulders with the greatest of ease as the soot-covered fur lines slipped below them.
Magicians, huh? Well, I've put over worse. Standing before the astonished - more likely, aghast - crowd of 11's and 9ers,
she flashed her hands out to the side as she walked over Ange and Mercer as yet more glass rattled onto the floor around her. Loudly coloured boots trampled ahead, carrying a mismatched set of strapped up top and gartered trunks as Kinu marched forward in a display of bizarre pageantry to the rhythm of near silence in the terminal.
They want a work, but I ain't a bit player, oh no.
The Alchemist followed her flying leap, but soon found he wasn't dressed for this kind of action.
Not bad, for a first-time. Wonder what else you got?
The Private Eye, however, spoke immediately to the bigger picture, which with En's chatter over the radio and Ange's fervent disagreement...actually seemed rather prudent.
...oh, right.
In a matter of speaking, their well-being was of a...penultimate concern, at least, for Kinu as well. Specifically in the manner of getting them over.
And then this fellow they called The Saint appeared. Apparently E.N. -
huh, turns out the guy's name is Mulvric? - had different designs, as he laid out the situation.
Turning about face and nodding to the onlookers in the crowd, she began to pace in a semicircle to address them, the people of the Urban Centres...and En herself on the other line of the radio comm as she bellowed through her mask.
"The E. N. crammed you all in here, am I right? Got you all caught up in their business when they were supposed to take the fight to the head bitch in charge? And who got the first lead on where they were going?"
A mischievous glint peeped out from Kinu's mask as she leered at Ange. "Sounds like amateur hour is over, Gee-gee," she said, "you're gonna need to red-step that popgun somewhere else if you wanna get the job done right. "
With all that The Saint relaid, Kinu, confident in a course, then slapped Owen firmly on the back. "There's our man down on level three. Time to see if the En Nation can put up, or if they should
shut up. You all know the Truth, A-9, the Admins punched you a one-way ticket over here! But the real question is, if Mulvric's got the receipts?"
Bowing her head down, Kinu fell into a crouch as she continued to holler into the talkie.
"That's right, E. N.! I'm gonna go down to the sublevel of Superjail to lay the smackdown on the Warden, and pull Mulvric's magician ass up here, and blast off at th Aerozeppelin Skyport! You're not ready, Gee-Gee ain't ready,
nobody is ready for this can of Administratum Whoopass. And if your man's good for it, he can give the A-11 the 411."
Before she even heard much of The Saint's warning, Kinu had already punched the call button of the lift down.
"Easy. Peasy."