Ruins of Khazan - Part 1: All Things Among Fallen Leaves

[Sharkerbob]

As she attempted to observe to plan out her next move, a thunderous explosion rocked the battlefield, and the shockwave hit her on the back. As her body went forward, her head was snapped up, and wacked against a particularly jutting section of the wall. Rae's hat was interposed between, but the blow was still hard enough to momentarily dizzy her, as the force of the blast sent them to their hands and knees in the muck. A moment later, a deluge of toxic rain rattled and splattered against the carousal, drops hissing where they landed.

Nemo, still dizzy, had to take another few moments to orient herself. Rae, meanwhile, was still not in top shape herself. With a mighty wriggling shudder, she squeezed as much of the goop out of her threads as she could. The sounds of further battle sounded around them, cutting through the ringing in Nemo's ears, from both the heavy blast, and the staccato striking of the acid rain reverberating through the carousal.

With a huff, Nemo forced herself to her feet, steadying against the jagged wall of their crumpled cover. A haze of acrid goo-gas wafted around them, thankfully sparing their little pocket of space. Not wanting to risk breathing anything more in than necessary, Nemo waited to let the air clear itself, the splatter-mist settling on the ground quickly. Rae, meanwhile, lifted her hat off Nemo's head, and peaked around the corner with it.

"Well... huh... things are looking up," Rae mused. "They got some of the goo-guys fightin' each other... Krys and Kinu are lookin' kinda rough, but hangin' in there... I think the robot is in some kinda swarm mode... oh, hey, Jane's back! Oh, shit, they just took out the Commander!"

"Wonderful," said Nemo, flatly sardonic. "I hope this was actually the right choice, because otherwise, we just wasted a bunch of lawmen on an errant whim."

"WE COULD HAVE GONE AROUND!" Rae said pointedly, flapping her shawl once in a huffy manner.

"I know," said Nemo. She took a breath. "Let me know when we're clear. If the threats are under control, I should have enough power left to lend some healing."

Rae paused, then flopped her hat onto Nemo's head rather forcefully. "Bunny, I love you and I'll wade through Hell with you, but let's look at our damn priorities for a second. A bunch of weirdos who don't even know what they're doing here, getting wrapped up in fights they could have just avoided. Every corner we turn, there's some new threat, some new non-sequitur scenario. And this wasn't like the hounds, rescuing someone from getting eaten by monsters, this was a stand off we just butted right into, and we still don't know who was in the right!"

"It's a Wayfarer's duty to help," said Nemo. "But I'll grant it isn't clear who we're really helping. I should have tried to parlay. I should have--"

"We're not Wayfarers out here!" said Rae. "We're just a couple of lost tourists who took a wrong turn out of the airport, and instead of the resort hotel, we ended up in the ghetto! Our only clue is some nebulous compulsion to head for that tree, and there's no telling what's awaiting us at the end! And need I remind you, we're running on fumes! You burn up any more Mana, and I won't even be able to help you!"

Nemo all but glowered at the muck, weighing her options. This was a mistake. They should never have stepped through that portal. But did they even have a choice? Had they really done it of their own free will, or was it all just the whims of the Author, nudging their decisions along? She couldn't feel his influence now, but was she actually free of him, even here? Was she really beyond him, in this realm of multi-canon mayhem, or was this place merely putting a veil over her intuition?

She glanced around the corner, watching the events unfold, this ragtag group of lost souls recollecting themselves together for one more push to the finish. She had a sense of the bonds forging between them, happenstance slipping tenuous threads of fate around them. Would those threads weave into strong braids of companionship? Or would they unravel before they could even be secured? There was no telling. But one thing she did sense was that she wasn't bound by those same threads. Being the outsider looking in was not an unfamiliar feeling, but in this moment, it was telling to her. She was out of her depth here. They all had more going on, they all had some sense of purpose, some drive, that the strange forces here could tap into, and motivate them.

But what was she? She was just... here. A passenger along for the ride. A drifter. A runaway already missing home. She'd already met her goal, "escaping" the Scribed Lands, the moment she stepped through that portal. And she hadn't had much time since to really think about what to do after that. She'd chosen quite the sub-optimal rabbit hole to follow.

Rae flopped her hat on her head again. "Well, bunny? You listening to me, or is all the poo-gas still addling your big brain?"

Nemo scowled and let out a little sigh. Whatever else she was doing here, she had her principles. She had enough magic left to help finish the fight. Whether that was firing off a final shot, or, preferably, do some healing, she would at least see this fight through, and see the group on their way. After that, she was going to find her own path through this hell zone. Not every rag-tag band of adventurers brought together by happenstance was destined to become some legendary hero team. Especially not here, with an infinity of stories in conflict.

"We'll help them through this situation," said Nemo. "Afterwards, we'll found our own way."

"Alright," said Rae, sounding relieved. "Sounds good." Rae gave her mistress a soft squeeze around the torso, as Nemo wrapped an arm around her chest, a quick "hug" between the two, as they got ready to move.

[Nik Hasta]

As the battle finally begins to calm, Trevor rushes out of the building, clambering over the remains of the barricade, on to the flipped car and jumping into the muck of the swamp. He has a hand crossbow in his hand and a small quiver of arrows loop around his shoulders. He struggles through the mud toward Krys, Kinu and Jane.

"Ser Krys!" he yells, "Mistress Kinu! Are you okay?"

--------------------------------------------------------------

Conversations and actions continue in the building, unseen by any member of the party.


--------------------------------------------------------------

On the other side of the garden, Lanky and Calvin exchange a look and a brief quiet conversation that swiftly dissolves into an argument and minor shouting.

"They're good people Lanky!" the tall redhead bellows, his deep voice rolling across the garden, "I'll not be so callous as to just slip away with our pride intact!" He places a hand on the shoulder of the slender figure.

"Don't you come at me with that 'good in people' rubbish!" Lanky snaps back, slapping his hand away, "S'not our business to take on waifs and strays who like to blow stuff up. Morgan wouldn't go for this, you know that. Keep it simple, keep it clean, keep it to our people,"

"Is Morgan in charge or am I?" Calvin retorts, folding his arms and beginning to inch toward the edge of the swamp. Lanky throws his arms wide and hesitates just slightly before answering what seems to be a slightly complex question.

"Honestly, it's hard to tell," he says in an exasperated tone, "You're the guts, charisma and the muscle. He's the experience, grit and the ruthlessness. You need both in a crew and you definitely need both in a situation like this," He gestures around at the apocalyptic scene of destruction that has been rendered unto the garden and the everchanging skyline that surrounds them all sides.

"Am I in charge?" Calvin said, his jaw raising just slightly in a posture that suggests that he isn't looking for platitudes but has a clear answer in mind that he wants to hear. Lanky strikes a slightly craven look before crumbling at the question.

"Yes boss," he mutters. His deference isn't out of fear, or so it seems. Despite his apparent objections, there seems to be no doubt in Lanky's mind that Calvin is the boss in this and perhaps every other scenario.

"Okay, then we'll go have a chat with these - our rescuers - and see what's what? Eh? Bright smile now, let's make nice," Calvin shoots him a grin and claps him on the back, swiftly leaning in and whispering something that goes unheard to onlookers. Lanky looks at least slightly mollified by whatever is said and idly twirls a knife between his fingers before looking at the swamp they will have to cross to approach the party without much enthusiasm.

"Ho there!" Calvin bellows and, with no care for his boots, leaps bodly into the mud, he takes a few more steps and, with a herculean effort, springs out of it again and sits on the flattened remains of the crushed car that the Commander folded up earlier in the fight with his legs crossed, "Seems your timing was well done. How fare you, bold ones?"

He's a tall and musclar man, medium length bright red hair and a strong jaw. He wears a slight garish outfit, orange trousers, a white simple shirt that clings to his body and red and brown leather waistcoat. All of it has seen better days but it suits him well. At his hip is a hand crossbow and he has a selection of long curved knives, sheathed and attached to the back of his belt, his left calf and right bicep. He wears worn leather gloves, which look to have a set of metallic knuckles built into them.

He's clearly a fighter, an accomplished one at that, but also doesn't give off much of a threatening aura. He seems jovial and even-tempered in his affect.

[Postmania]

As Trevor approached, Jane nodded to him.

"Staying inside was an optimal choice in this mess," she said, gesturing around at the wrecked battlefield. "Some of those foes would likely have inflicted you notable collateral damage in knife range, as I discovered."

She raises her mostly superficial but still visible semi-melted right hand before turning to Calvin.

"Please standby," she said, as she activated Immortal Technique. The illumination of the black crystal eyes transformed from mere orbs to skulls once again as she turned to the Brutes, the sniper rifle once again extending from her arm to snap off a shot at one Brute, which was followed by twin revolver shots as the initial shot buried itself roughly into the area of the first's head and the salve went into the necks of the two.

She frowned as the two continued to tussle as she turned back to the man. Something of his frame was familiar to her, but she dismissed such idle thoughts.

"Our timing?" she inquired, cocking her head as she took in this information in delayed fashion from directing her attention to the Tire Men. "I suppose you should thank Krys for that," she nodded over at the other white haired figure.

"I raised an objection to getting involved, but they insisted we recon the site. Once multiple guns were raised on them," Jane shrugged, "Primary objectives demanded I intervene. I doubted your defenses would stand against the remainder of their attack, so I thought it optimal to gain the upper hand with a surprise strike. As for our condition..."

Jane grimaces, looking around at the group.

"We have sustained some level of damage. Would you have ways to aid in repair?"

Jane studied the man openly, glancing at his clothing, which was both brightly colored and somewhat nondescript, and the crossbow.

"Your group seem to have been spared the need for much repair, yourselves. Are you a...roving caravan of adventurers?" she inquired. "Your equipment loadout indicates operating in...an older era."

[Nik Hasta]

She frowned as the two continued to tussle as she turned back to the man. Something of his frame was familiar to her, but she dismissed such idle thoughts.

"Our timing?" she inquired, cocking her head as she took in this information in delayed fashion from directing her attention to the Tire Men. "I suppose you should thank Krys for that," she nodded over at the other white haired figure.

"I raised an objection to getting involved, but they insisted we recon the site. Once multiple guns were raised on them," Jane shrugged, "Primary objectives demanded I intervene. I doubted your defenses would stand against the remainder of their attack, so I thought it optimal to gain the upper hand with a surprise strike. As for our condition..."

Jane grimaces, looking around at the group.

"We have sustained some level of damage. Would you have ways to aid in repair?"

Jane studied the man openly, glancing at his clothing, which was both brightly colored and somewhat nondescript, and the crossbow.

"Your group seem to have been spared the need for much repair, yourselves. Are you a...roving caravan of adventurers?" she inquired. "Your equipment loadout indicates operating in...an older era."

"Older, you say?" Calvin says, raising an eyebrow, "And yet here you are using words like 'adventurer' - Lanky, you hearing this?"

As Calvin speaks, Lanky hops gracefully over to the flattened car, clearly attempting to get as little mud on his shoes as possible. With the grace of aerialist, he lands on the metal frame, standing behind his boss and looking off into the middle distance, apparently effecting some kind of aloof pose that seems distinctly cultivated.

Lanky is taller than Calvin but stands much skinnier, more the build of a dancer than a fighter. He has medium length hair, a deep blue in colour, that has been aggressively spiked and slicked back - causing it to look not dissimilar to the fin of a shark. He is wearing clothes that, while clearly from a similar origin as Calvin's garments in terms of material and style, are closer to a tight leathery jumpsuit kind of affair. Clearly built for speed and aerodynamicism. He idlly twirls a stilleto knife between his long fingers, his own hand crossbow at his hip. He has a detailed tattoo on his neck that just peaks up from beneath the neckline of his clothes.

As Calvin asks his opinion, he lets out an amused sigh and glances up and down Jane's metallic body, his lip curled and his eyebrows raised in wry amusement.

"What's with the automaton?" he asks, whether his question is directed at Calvin or the group is unclear, "Seen a lot of weird stuff but most are like the other one," he points a thumb at Cassa, "All beep-boop this and doot-doot that, you know? This one seems... articulate. Mmmm... yeah, no, I don't care for it,"

He lets the words hang in the air, clearly an insult but also clearly some kind of rhetorical test. Watching to see how they react.

[Sharpandpointies]

Krys offers a tired smile as Trevor approaches, calling their names. They wave one hand in an enervated gesture of greeting. "Not so great, Trevor," Krys admits, and it's true. Despite their choice of a less-damaged pattern, it's still damaged. Seriously. And worse, the fraying has eaten into their vitality. Organs, systems, cellular structures, all are no longer working quite so properly; take a tiny fraction out of a machine, and that machine can break down. And likely will.

Even so, they nod toward Jane. "Jane has the right of it," Krys manages. "This...wasn't easy." Jane, it seems, has come out the best of them. Both Kinu and Krys are hurt, and what of Nemo and Rae? "You didn't...happen to see what happened to Nemo, did you?" Krys inquires of the approaching young man.

More gunshots, this time the slugs slamming into the enormous, brutish enemies. Krys wearily assesses, nothing both have suffered no more than minor injuries; they look away, too tired and lacking in energy to consider joining in. And lacking in spirit, as well. Still don't know who was really in the right, and probably never will. Just...ended up getting caught up in it. "Not idea," they whisper. "We should have gotten more information."

Too late now.

They leave the answering to the man from inside to Jane. Given how things went when Trevor and Krys entered the building, Krys has little interest in such discussions. Jane uses their name for her explanation; Krys nods her blood and sludge-slicked head, and runs both sets of fingers through lank and sodden hair as Jane continues, oddly absolving herself of responsibility. Breathing out a sigh, Krys simply chooses to continue sitting, struggling to regain some measure of their strength and wincing occasionally at the thud of a blow as the towering enemies continue to hammer away at one another.

Then another arrives.

Krys studies the newcomer with a bland lack of emotion, blinking several times as he speaks. One eyebrow rises - perhaps a hair, no more. Then they slowly push themselves up, losing interest. "You know what, Jane?" Again, the fingers slide through their hair, pulling it back. Reaching into their jacket pocket, they draw out the cut hairband and begin using it as an impromptu tie. "I think you were right. And I was wrong."

"No need to stop off or dilly-dally looking after us, we're not wanting to be in the debt of anyone..."

"What's with the automaton?...Mmmm... yeah, no, I don't care for it."

"My mistake." A apologetic shrug to the woman. And the people inside the structure are safe now, whatever the situation and what they are. "Let's just find Nemo and Rae and go."

[grampagen]

The Commander burbles incoherently as the shard of metal stabbing into his brain does its grisly work. Krys sees, just for a moment, a slight eruption of grey goo around the edges of the wound, foaming and mingling with the blood and toxic slime that leaks from his skull. The nanites from Cassa are still doing their work, even as life fades from his large a bloated eyeballs, his hands are driven upward and try to reach toward his men who continue to exchange blows in a Sisyphean display of combat.

"Gotta - gotta - kill mur boys," he mutters, as he strains towards a target that is firmly out of his reach. As his strength fades further and the light in his eyes goes very dim, he looks at Krys and slurs unintelligibly; "Yer... yer... this is... mrdr - 'um killd yer - pshgg urgh uurrr,"

His body slumps and he is still, passed on from this world and left lying the filth and stench of his own making. His body starts to split and fluid leaks into a large puddle in the crater he is lying in from the explosion - a toxic soup of slime, corroded bones and, floating in the middle, a NYPD Police hat.

With the final blow struck, the commander died in a cesspit of his own creation, surrounded motes of hellfire.

"Yeah, that'l do it alright," Kinu mused, "Messy business, but the strike was clean."

Mailaise spread through her limbs, and her tendons felt loose, as if something had come unbuckled. Kinu planted her feet, and sunk into an idle squat in the mud and sighed. As she watched the rubber tire men go at it in all futility, her thoughts remained with the death rattle of the toxic authoritarian that scattered his essences, and with it, the steely enigma that had stuck the mud creature to his fate.

"How's that for your justice," she started, them grumbled as her thoughts fell to silence.

Did your head honcho turn ya into this? Or was becoming something you never wanted to be part of who you are?

Whatever vanities the Commender once had were now dissolved, leaving only the cap of his office in the muck. All for Cassa to make them worthless with a single utterance.

Whatever was, will never be remembered, for you forgot yourself already.

As the battle finally begins to calm, Trevor rushes out of the building, clambering over the remains of the barricade, on to the flipped car and jumping into the muck of the swamp. He has a hand crossbow in his hand and a small quiver of arrows loop around his shoulders. He struggles through the mud toward Krys, Kinu and Jane.

"Ser Krys!" he yells, "Mistress Kinu! Are you okay?"

"Shh-shh...look at this..."

Kinu lift a hand, waving Trevor over. Still kneeling on the mud, whe was keenly overseeing the two creatures levying their brimming strength against each other, unable to so much as knock the other back, yet somehow unable to turn away from this course of action.

"Forget about me, ya know, probably should've stayed outta this swamp, kid. Ain't gonna be going anywhere quickly once you set foot in this stuff," she said, "More to the point, it ain't over...but you came dressed for business, heh-heh..."

On the other side of the garden, Lanky and Calvin exchange a look and a brief quiet conversation that swiftly dissolves into an argument and minor shouting.

"They're good people Lanky!" the tall redhead bellows, his deep voice rolling across the garden, "I'll not be so callous as to just slip away with our pride intact!" He places a hand on the shoulder of the slender figure.

"Don't you come at me with that 'good in people' rubbish!" Lanky snaps back, slapping his hand away, "S'not our business to take on waifs and strays who like to blow stuff up. Morgan wouldn't go for this, you know that. Keep it simple, keep it clean, keep it to our people,"

"Is Morgan in charge or am I?" Calvin retorts, folding his arms and beginning to inch toward the edge of the swamp. Lanky throws his arms wide and hesitates just slightly before answering what seems to be a slightly complex question.

"Honestly, it's hard to tell," he says in an exasperated tone, "You're the guts, charisma and the muscle. He's the experience, grit and the ruthlessness. You need both in a crew and you definitely need both in a situation like this," He gestures around at the apocalyptic scene of destruction that has been rendered unto the garden and the everchanging skyline that surrounds them all sides.

"Am I in charge?" Calvin said, his jaw raising just slightly in a posture that suggests that he isn't looking for platitudes but has a clear answer in mind that he wants to hear. Lanky strikes a slightly craven look before crumbling at the question.

"Yes boss," he mutters. His deference isn't out of fear, or so it seems. Despite his apparent objections, there seems to be no doubt in Lanky's mind that Calvin is the boss in this and perhaps every other scenario.

"Okay, then we'll go have a chat with these - our rescuers - and see what's what? Eh? Bright smile now, let's make nice," Calvin shoots him a grin and claps him on the back, swiftly leaning in and whispering something that goes unheard to onlookers. Lanky looks at least slightly mollified by whatever is said and idly twirls a knife between his fingers before looking at the swamp they will have to cross to approach the party without much enthusiasm.

"Ho there!" Calvin bellows and, with no care for his boots, leaps bodly into the mud, he takes a few more steps and, with a herculean effort, springs out of it again and sits on the flattened remains of the crushed car that the Commander folded up earlier in the fight with his legs crossed, "Seems your timing was well done. How fare you, bold ones?"

He's a tall and musclar man, medium length bright red hair and a strong jaw. He wears a slight garish outfit, orange trousers, a white simple shirt that clings to his body and red and brown leather waistcoat. All of it has seen better days but it suits him well. At his hip is a hand crossbow and he has a selection of long curved knives, sheathed and attached to the back of his belt, his left calf and right bicep. He wears worn leather gloves, which look to have a set of metallic knuckles built into them.

He's clearly a fighter, an accomplished one at that, but also doesn't give off much of a threatening aura. He seems jovial and even-tempered in his affect.

"Older, you say?" Calvin says, raising an eyebrow, "And yet here you are using words like 'adventurer' - Lanky, you hearing this?"

As Calvin speaks, Lanky hops gracefully over to the flattened car, clearly attempting to get as little mud on his shoes as possible. With the grace of aerialist, he lands on the metal frame, standing behind his boss and looking off into the middle distance, apparently effecting some kind of aloof pose that seems distinctly cultivated.

Lanky has taller than Calvin but stands much skinnier, more the build of a dancer than a fighter. He has medium length hair, a deep blue in colour, that has been aggressively spiked and slicked back - causing it to look not dissimilar to the fin of a shark. He is wearing clothes that, while clearly from a similar origin as Calvin's garments in terms of material and style, are closer to a tight leathery jumpsuit kind of affair. Clearly built for speed and aerodynamicism. He idlly twirls a stilleto knife between his long fingers, his own hand crossbow at his hip. He has a detailed tattoo on his neck that just peaks up from beneath the neckline of his clothes.

As Calvin asks his opinion, he lets out an amused sigh and glances up and down Jane's metallic body, his lip curled and his eyebrows raised in wry amusement.

"What's with the automaton?" he asks, whether his question is directed at Calvin or the group is unclear, "Seen a lot of weird stuff but most are like the other one," he points a thumb at Cassa, "All beep-boop this and doot-doot that, you know? This one seems... articulate. Mmmm... yeah, no, I don't care for it,"

He lets the words hang in the air, clearly an insult but also clearly some kind of rhetorical test. Watching to see how they react.

"Hah? Who the hell are you?"

Wait. The glob corps, they were mad about somethin'...

The ginger was at least cordial - least he could be for they finished their fight for them - but the tall, skinny one made her bloodied, black lips fall into a frown. With a strained growl, Kinu stood back up.

"Psh~!"

With a curt prompt, her Hellhound came back to her side, and Kinu ran her hand between the ridged brows between its six eyes.

"And I don't care for fairies skippin' around and flaunting shinies, especially when they're stupid enough to start barkin' at a bot with a gun for an arm, yeah?"

The judgement call was annoying, but that spike of blue hair made him look like even more of a punk.

"So what, ya gonna stick with somethin' with that, Sparkles? Or are we gonna figure this out?"

[Postmania]

Jane was about to reply to the leader figure when the blue-haired man, Lanky, she thought, made a comment, one that her group did not care for. She raised her hand in what she thought might have been a calming motion, perhaps borrowed from Krys again, glancing over at the two and tried to convey a signal of "standby".

"One section of his statement is true," she replied flatly. Her lips curled into a smile as she turned to Lanky. This one was different from her previous ones which had hints of softness despite her metallic exterior. Broader, and open mouthed as opposed to the curved suggestions with lips pressed together, she grinned back at him and those close enough and looking now would see the missing hint to a puzzle she had presented earlier.

Her savage grin displayed not human teeth in her mouth, not even the approximations that might be assumed from her vague mimicry of the human form as was visible in her exterior, but shiny black-jacketed bullets, many revolver round but also some larger, higher caliber sniper rounds acting as incisors and other larger teeth. And unlike a standard set of human teeth, rows and rows of bullets grew? loaded? beyond her front teeth, going back deep into her mouth, perhaps into her throat.

"There's no one like me."

After just a brief moment her mirthless smile dropped like a stone and she turned back to Calvin, clearly dismissing Lanky.

"With regards to terminology, my missions have taken me to many times and places," she replied, now back to a casual conversational tone. "Many interesting targets have abounded through the different universes where I come from, and my Facility deployed me as necessary."

She shrugged.

"I was simply curious as to whether you were as close to the setting where Trevor was from as I assumed. As for continuing on," she looked over at Krys now, "It was not a complete waste. I may have learned some interesting pieces of information from this place which I would not have been able to without this battle."

Something about her voice was a bit strained on the words "interesting" and "this place", seeming more of a projection of a casual air, but regardless Jane glanced back at the commander after.

[Sharkerbob]

The last of the acid-rain fizzled out in the muck, and Rae confirmed the hostiles were either down or pre-occupied. Nemo crawled out from beneath the carousel wreckage and schlorped her way through the muck, not wasting energy on a sky jump, despite the temptation. Coming up to the assemblage, she noted Trevor had come back out, and two of the people from the building had come out to talk to them. The two brutish figures, the last of the Muck Men, were still locked in grapple, despite the further attacks sent at them. Cassa was still in some kind of particulate form around them, presumably keeping them at their struggle. They were handled then.

"Good to see everyone's made it through," said Nemo. She took stock of the group, noting how ragged Krys and Kinu looked especially. Both looked quite battered, but Krys' injuries seemed the more severe of the two, while she could sense a stark exhaustion in Kinu's reserves. "They're not my strongest spells, but I have just enough juice left to do some patching up."

She touched Krys' shoulder, and the latter felt the rather disturbing sensation of flesh moving in ways it shouldn't, or perhaps in ways in should at speeds it shouldn't. A feeling like termites wriggling beneath the skin, rent flesh melting back into place, the rush of lost blood regenerating through the body. A disturbing feeling, but once the work was done, a sensation of relief, and a considerable ebbing of pain followed.

With Kinu, she held her hands and went in semi-trance again, pulling from the veils of reality around her, tapping into the multiversal energies that she had earlier used to recharge some of her Mana. Instead of soaking it into herself, she funneled that power into the wild woman before her. She drew as much as she could in one go, and she felt the deeply dry well start to refill. She wasn't able to pump enough to respark her power, but at least now she was stabilized enough to respark it much sooner.

Nemo took a breath, feeling her own power bleed down to a sip. Rae went silent, and the dress seemed to hang a bit more heavily on Nemo's shoulders. "Whew. If we are secure, and the rest of you are able, might I suggest we do some round-robin with our recovery techniques? Once we get going, I think we should be able to fully recover each other fairly quickly."

[Nik Hasta]

Krys offers a tired smile as Trevor approaches, calling their names. They wave one hand in an enervated gesture of greeting. "Not so great, Trevor," Krys admits, and it's true. Despite their choice of a less-damaged pattern, it's still damaged. Seriously. And worse, the fraying has eaten into their vitality. Organs, systems, cellular structures, all are no longer working quite so properly; take a tiny fraction out of a machine, and that machine can break down. And likely will.

Even so, they nod toward Jane. "Jane has the right of it," Krys manages. "This...wasn't easy." Jane, it seems, has come out the best of them. Both Kinu and Krys are hurt, and what of Nemo and Rae? "You didn't...happen to see what happened to Nemo, did you?" Krys inquires of the approaching young man.

At Krys' question, Trevor looks around swiftly, he is about to answer when Nemo and Rae appear from the remains of the corroded and devastated carousel and approach the group.

"It was a hard battle," Trevor says, "I-I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. Mr Calvin there - " he gestures at the redhead sitting on the remains of the car, "He wanted to come help you but his whole team were rightly afeared of the chaos out there. I - I tried to make them. Then Mr Lanky jumped out the window because one of 'em was going for reinforcements and that - well - we... you all barely survived with this lot and more comin' would have... we would have. I'm so sorry Ser Krys. If I'd been quieter and snuck in better, you wouldn't have had to cover for me and - and you've saved my life again and the debt is gettin' pretty steep,"

The boy chokes back tears, mostly of frustration. He's clearly coming to terms with the fact that he is even further out of his depth than he first thought. He slugs through the mud, a little closer to Krys and hangs his head, gripped with shame.

"Shh-shh...look at this..."

Kinu lift a hand, waving Trevor over. Still kneeling on the mud, whe was keenly overseeing the two creatures levying their brimming strength against each other, unable to so much as knock the other back, yet somehow unable to turn away from this course of action.

"Forget about me, ya know, probably should've stayed outta this swamp, kid. Ain't gonna be going anywhere quickly once you set foot in this stuff," she said, "More to the point, it ain't over...but you came dressed for business, heh-heh..."

Trevor wipes his face. Already caked in thick mud from his strides over to the group, he smears grime on his face as hides his tears from Kinu.

"I don't know Mistress," he says, voice just slightly choked up, "Those two look occupied and fair hardy on top of that. Should we not just... leave 'em to it? Rolling around in the mud, seems a fitting end to creatures such as these,"

"Hah? Who the hell are you?"

Wait. The glob corps, they were mad about somethin'...

The ginger was at least cordial - least he could be for they finished their fight for them - but the tall, skinny one made her bloodied, black lips fall into a frown. With a strained growl, Kinu stood back up.

"Psh~!"

With a curt prompt, her Hellhound came back to her side, and Kinu ran her hand between the ridged brows between its six eyes.

"And I don't care for fairies skippin' around and flaunting shinies, especially when they're stupid enough to start barkin' at a bot with a gun for an arm, yeah?"

The judgement call was annoying, but that spike of blue hair made him look like even more of a punk.

"So what, ya gonna stick with somethin' with that, Sparkles? Or are we gonna figure this out?"

Lanky's eyebrows raise at this.

"Fairy? Excuse me?! This bitc-" he begins, his hand snapping the stiletto blade into a firm grip, but Calvin silences him with a raise of his hand.

"Easy there Lanky," he says in a firm but gentle tone, "And you as well, Masked One. There's been a fight, blood and tempers are running high. We, though if I'm to be truthful it's definitely you, have prevailed against monsters. Let's not let tempers fray and lead to more violence without cause that would soil that victory. Our party ain't looking for anything without profit and, politely, you don't exactly look like you've got much in the way of resources beyond the strength of your bodies and the magics therein,"

He keeps his hands open and raised just to the level of his chin, clearly shooting for diplomacy. Behind the obvious confidence and bravado, the party gets the sense that Calvin is sizing them up a little - just in case things go sideways.

Jane was about to reply to the leader figure when the blue-haired man, Lanky, she thought, made a comment, one that her group did not care for. She raised her hand in what she thought might have been a calming motion, perhaps borrowed from Krys again, glancing over at the two and tried to convey a signal of "standby".

"One section of his statement is true," she replied flatly. Her lips curled into a smile as she turned to Lanky. This one was different from her previous ones which had hints of softness despite her metallic exterior. Broader, and open mouthed as opposed to the curved suggestions with lips pressed together, she grinned back at him and those close enough and looking now would see the missing hint to a puzzle she had presented earlier.

Her savage grin displayed not human teeth in her mouth, not even the approximations that might be assumed from her vague mimicry of the human form as was visible in her exterior, but shiny black-jacketed bullets, many revolver round but also some larger, higher caliber sniper rounds acting as incisors and other larger teeth. And unlike a standard set of human teeth, rows and rows of bullets grew? loaded? beyond her front teeth, going back deep into her mouth, perhaps into her throat.

"There's no one like me."

After just a brief moment her mirthless smile dropped like a stone and she turned back to Calvin, clearly dismissing Lanky.

"You know what?" Lanky said, smoothing his hair and returning to twirling his knife, though with a slightly fraught edge to his demeanour, "I take it back. I like this one,"

Calvin rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers thrice, presumably indicating that he should be the one to do the talking from now on. Lanky tsks slightly and turns back to look toward the bank, waving a hand at the rest of the crew who are still holed up within.

GM Note to Krys:

spoilers:

They only just catch this, it's very quick and smooth but Krys notices that, embedded in the apparent waving, is a couple of quick hand signals. It's unclear what is meant but Lanky is communicating more complexly with the group in the building than would first appear.

end of spoilers

"With regards to terminology, my missions have taken me to many times and places," she replied, now back to a casual conversational tone. "Many interesting targets have abounded through the different universes where I come from, and my Facility deployed me as necessary."

She shrugged.

"I was simply curious as to whether you were as close to the setting where Trevor was from as I assumed. As for continuing on,"

"If there's one thing this place has taught me," Calvin says, gesturing around at the infinite city, "It's that assumptions are seldom correct. Your boy Trevor there is a bit more backwoods than the likes of us. Though, that said, not all of us from the same homeland neither - The Bez, Digger and Bones are all lads we met here in the big city,"

He leans back and rocks onto his feet, standing up.

"Now, least we can do is get Bones to have a look at you. He's a good healer, decent guy. Patching you up is the minimum. Best good to get you of this mud, can't imagine it's good for you neither. Now, I can't speak for you, not sure who's in charge in your outfit to be honest, but you've helped us with a score so, if you're so inclined, you're entitled to a cut,"

Lanky spins around at this.

"A cut?!" he says, his voice almost a shriek.

"Honour amongst thieves, Lanky," Calvin says, his voice hard and uncompromising.

"Morgan is going to positively shit himself," Lanky remarks quietly.

The two Brutes continue to strike at one another, their fists punctuating the conversation with thunks and dull impacts that echo through the gardens.

[Sharpandpointies]

At Jane's gesture, Krys halts. But they hold to silence, placing their attention on the woman rather than those to whom she speaks. The munitions grin - very much out of character for Jane, or at least the Jane Krys had come to know - is somewhat disturbing, but the woman seems well enough. Finally Krys shrugs, the motion small within the slightly oversized jacket. "As long as you're satisfied, then." But their veiled disgust - with the others, not Jane - fades as Nemo and Rae make an appearance; the battered fighter offers the pair a weary but relieved smile. "Good to see you're still all here. Both of you." Straightening slightly, they place a hand on Trevor's shoulder - lightly, just a touch. "Don't worry, Trevor. I'm pretty sure I was the one who gave the game away when we were sneaking around, but even if I wasn't...you did well. Had a good plan. We made it in. And debts?" A shake of the head. "I'm not interested in such things, not from friends. You're a friend, Trevor; we watch out for one another."

This exhausts what energy remains to Krys; enfeebled by injury, they lapse into silence again as Nemo approaches. The woman reaches out, and her touch puts an uncomfortable feeling in Krys' body - a feeling that nonetheless ends with much of Krys' injuries soothed and healed. If not all, what of it? Nemo has done them an enormous service. "Thanks." One word, but carrying a heavy weight; the damage to Krys' body had been severe, nearly lethal, and their own reconstitution hadn't been nearly enough. With this? They nod their head to Nemo's suggestion. "Thanks to you two, I think I'll be okay until then."

For now.

There's some back-and-forth between Kinu and the other group - it nearly comes to blows, but the one named Calvin at least manages to defuse his own side. Lanky's gestures do not go unnoticed, but thus far nobody has attempted to stick a crossbow bolt into anyone in their group; Krys hopes that continues. They shift their weight from foot to foot, then grimace with the aches and twinges that inspires. One hand goes back on Trevor's shoulder, this time with a little more weight. "Sorry," Krys murmurs. "But I could use a little support."

[Postmania]

For a split second the corners of Jane's mouth twitch slightly at Lanky's response, but she manages to suppress her reaction in a microsecond, returning to blandly listening to Calvin's reply.

A cut?

"A share," Jane responded, cycling through the various definitions and implications of what Calvin had said. "If currency matters here still, there must be some form of civilization we have not yet seen. So there is more than just," Jane's hand moves, tracing the ever-changing skyline in the horizon, "chaos."

Although likely there is chaos still in any civilization that survives in a place like this.

Jane tilted her head in assent.

"Regardless, assistance in the matter of repair is appreciated."

As she turns away, Jane processes some of Trevor's grief. She looks over at him, seeming uncomfortable with the sudden emotion, but unable to articulate a proper response, until Krys speaks, their words seeming to bolster her desire to reply.

"Do not be...troubled," she stated haltingly. "As we travel together we are one machine and various parts must necessarily have different functions."

Even as she was saying this, Jane thought these words were somewhat limited in their application. Searching for a better response, she narrowed in on particular subset of responses that her system calculated might be more effective.

"I would not have been able to act in my role without the help of my support base," she clarified. "Without Duke- without my instructor, and the rest of the Facility, I would have been lost."

She thought back. The fruitless search for the dagger which felt like so long ago. The prey that eluded her, and the ambush in the desert. Months of wandering through interstellar bazaars, slinking across rooftops, and loitering in spaceports, utterly baffled at how to proceed, all the while lacking proper maintenance.

"As I was lost in my hunt, before I was brought here."

She shook her head.

"I was always informed about how important the various functions of my team were, but I never truly thought about them until they were gone. I lacked even knowledge of transport or how to use the local databases in my search. And whether for positive or negative effects, I now strongly believe our passage here was no accident," she continued.

"While on the battlefield just now, as my defensive countermeasures activated, I saw..." Jane hesitated, looking away. "Something impossible. Infinity, in a similar fashion as this city is infinity. And it possessed...intent. It looked into me-"

-with an intensity that was *terrifying*,

Jane trailed off for a moment.

"What I am trying to convey is that we are all here for a reason," she concluded, trying to return to the point. "You have a part in this as much as we do. And, also," she added, with a smile that was more sly than the others had seen previously, "after all you will see on this journey I highly doubt your wizard foe will be able to surprise you the way he surprised you before."

[Nik Hasta]

Straightening slightly, they place a hand on Trevor's shoulder - lightly, just a touch. "Don't worry, Trevor. I'm pretty sure I was the one who gave the game away when we were sneaking around, but even if I wasn't...you did well. Had a good plan. We made it in. And debts?" A shake of the head. "I'm not interested in such things, not from friends. You're a friend, Trevor; we watch out for one another."

--- snip ---

There's some back-and-forth between Kinu and the other group - it nearly comes to blows, but the one named Calvin at least manages to defuse his own side. Lanky's gestures do not go unnoticed, but thus far nobody has attempted to stick a crossbow bolt into anyone in their group; Krys hopes that continues. They shift their weight from foot to foot, then grimace with the aches and twinges that inspires. One hand goes back on Trevor's shoulder, this time with a little more weight. "Sorry," Krys murmurs. "But I could use a little support."

Trevor shifts his feet in the mud, aiming to offer whatever support he can. He's small but stocky, Krys finds him to be a reliable support.

"Back into the building?" he asks, "See about getting ol' Bones to patch everyone up?"

For a split second the corners of Jane's mouth twitch slightly at Lanky's response, but she manages to suppress her reaction in a microsecond, returning to blandly listening to Calvin's reply.

A cut?

"A share," Jane responded, cycling through the various definitions and implications of what Calvin had said. "If currency matters here still, there must be some form of civilization we have not yet seen. So there is more than just," Jane's hand moves, tracing the ever-changing skyline in the horizon, "chaos."

Although likely there is chaos still in any civilization that survives in a place like this.

Jane tilted her head in assent.

"Regardless, assistance in the matter of repair is appreciated."

Calvin shakes his head.

"Currency? Oh nah, nah, no. Y'know, for someone who speaks of being well-travelled in different universes and such - forgive me for sayin' - but you seem a touch naïve," his voice is quite gentle, he's clearly not trying to offend Jane with this assessment.

"We've been here and carving out a survival, such as it is, for a while now. As far as we've seen, the city is largely empty. Most folks arrive dead, usually toward the gate or walls. Everything else, no natives, no commerce, nothin'. Course, given the wyrd and shifting size of it, it's hard to know how much (if any) we've explored of it. But we've been here... what...? Well... it's hard to say right Lanks?"

Lanky shrugs at this question and rubs his chin with his free hand, considering the figures.

"Yeah, there's not really much in the way of night or rather, there is but when does come it's inconsistent," he says, "We try to sleep when we can, mark time by meals and fatigue and the like. Bones was keeping closer track than me, old fella like him needs to sleep more than the rest of us so we have to move at his pace when we're on the move. All said, I think we'd settled on say - month and a half?"

Calvin nodded at this, "Right, so we've been here more than a minute. To your point - there's currency here, scads of it actually. When we first got here we thought we was in the money. But, obviously, it doesn't matter because there's no place to spend it and, so far, no way out,"

For a moment, for perhaps the first time in their interaction, Calvin looks genuinely worried for a moment. The group is aware that they have been here, at most, a few hours. This group has been here for a month and, in that moment, the wear and tear of the situation shows on his face.

"What there is that does matter is artefacts; weapons, magical objects, technology we don't even know what the hell it does - shit like that. Our group is trying to get as much stuff as we can, in the hopes that said weaponry will offer us some protection from..."

He gestures at the wreckage and the scrapping monsters.

"... stuff like that. And maybe we'll find some tech or magic or something to get us out of here. We ain't looking for home - that ain't a requirement at this point but we'd settle for not here,"

Lanky pipes up again.

"Yeah, it's been nice. Got some good gear, pretty sparklies, learned a lot about myself and others but - yeah - kinda over it at this point,"

Calvin chuckles drily, "So then. Back to the bank? Get you healed up, see about a cut for your services and then we'll be on our merry way,"

As she turns away, Jane processes some of Trevor's grief. She looks over at him, seeming uncomfortable with the sudden emotion, but unable to articulate a proper response, until Krys speaks, their words seeming to bolster her desire to reply.

"Do not be...troubled," she stated haltingly. "As we travel together we are one machine and various parts must necessarily have different functions."

Even as she was saying this, Jane thought these words were somewhat limited in their application. Searching for a better response, she narrowed in on particular subset of responses that her system calculated might be more effective.

"I would not have been able to act in my role without the help of my support base," she clarified. "Without Duke- without my instructor, and the rest of the Facility, I would have been lost."

She thought back. The fruitless search for the dagger which felt like so long ago. The prey that eluded her, and the ambush in the desert. Months of wandering through interstellar bazaars, slinking across rooftops, and loitering in spaceports, utterly baffled at how to proceed, all the while lacking proper maintenance.

"As I was lost in my hunt, before I was brought here."

She shook her head.

"I was always informed about how important the various functions of my team were, but I never truly thought about them until they were gone. I lacked even knowledge of transport or how to use the local databases in my search. And whether for positive or negative effects, I now strongly believe our passage here was no accident," she continued.

"While on the battlefield just now, as my defensive countermeasures activated, I saw..." Jane hesitated, looking away. "Something impossible. Infinity, in a similar fashion as this city is infinity. And it possessed...intent. It looked into me-"

-with an intensity that was *terrifying*,

Jane trailed off for a moment.

"What I am trying to convey is that we are all here for a reason," she concluded, trying to return to the point. "You have a part in this as much as we do. And, also," she added, with a smile that was more sly than the others had seen previously, "after all you will see on this journey I highly doubt your wizard foe will be able to surprise you the way he surprised you before."

Trevor looks at Jane, despite Krys' comfort in speaking to her, he still finds the mechanoid unsettling. Her reveal of her bullet-shaped teeth and the capacities for violence she has displayed are not helping him feel at ease.

"As you say Mistress Jane," he says carefully, "We all survived the trip here where so many others fell dead - well... you all survived... I didn't if we're being honest," He gives Krys a gentle squeeze as he supports them, "I thought I knew what my purpose was but now I'm here, lost in a sea of... well... here. If there is machination or design here then I'm not sure I'm a part of it,"

He looks back into the robotic eyes of Jane, steeling himself for what he had to say next.

"If I may Mistress," he says, "You were looked at by something - be it a god or the power of the city or infinity itself - and you think it regarded you with significance? I have looked at ants in my time, as a curiosity perhaps, let them run over my fingers or been interested in their shape or how they move and - to the ant - that might be bein' looked at by a being far beyond themselves and they might feel that I am givin' them a sense of significance but... but..."

Calvin interjects, finishing the sentence.

"From your position, they're all the same, interchangeable and meaningless and you'd forget them as soon as you lose interest," he says.

Trevor nods, "I don't think we should be here," he says quietly, "It's not a place for people. We don't have Duke, we've only got each other and that's - that's something - it's not a lot though,"

"The kid's starting to get it," Lanky muttered in a cold tone of voice.

[Sharpandpointies]

Krys listens in silence as Jane speaks with Trevor. They're starting to feel a little better now, thanks mostly to Nemo's intervention. It's enough to keep them going at least, for now. Once I feel a bit better from that, they consider, I'll fix myself up a bit more. Of course, they could just...mingle their energies with All Things around them, once again. But that sick feeling within Krys...no, maybe it's not the best choice.

I wonder how long I have?

They cough again, wipe their hand on their fouled jeans, the streaks of crimson lost in the muck and burn.

It's good to see the mechanoid speaking well with Trevor, but Jane's final point and consideration is disturbing. Krys, themselves, has felt the power that had swept over the mechanoid. It seems likely to be connected to what Jane experienced in this battle, once again. "Don't think I like that." It's a murmur, but clear enough. "Something like that...Trevor might be right." Their free hand motions toward the other group. "I like their idea; the best bet is finding a way out, if that's possible. Maybe the tree is the key. Maybe not. But if whatever looked upon you, Jane, has a purpose to bringing us here, it's the purpose of a being much greater than ourselves. And beings much greater tend to have a dim view of the health of their tools. Their livestock. Their servants. Whatever."

Just like most people do with their own versions of the same.

With that, Krys stands straighter, taking her weight off Trevor. "I'll manage now, Trevor. Thanks. And I'm glad I helped you, before. Very glad." They glance toward Calvin. "I'll wait out here. Your Bones can keep his resources; my injuries will heal." Some will not, but that's unimportant. "I'll just keep watch." For threats. And on you. Krys doesn't trust them, not with that Lanky. But can they be blamed? They're desperate. Desperate people make tribes and value that tribe. And base their choices around those values.

Just like Krys must.

[grampagen]

The last of the acid-rain fizzled out in the muck, and Rae confirmed the hostiles were either down or pre-occupied. Nemo crawled out from beneath the carousel wreckage and schlorped her way through the muck, not wasting energy on a sky jump, despite the temptation. Coming up to the assemblage, she noted Trevor had come back out, and two of the people from the building had come out to talk to them. The two brutish figures, the last of the Muck Men, were still locked in grapple, despite the further attacks sent at them. Cassa was still in some kind of particulate form around them, presumably keeping them at their struggle. They were handled then.

"Good to see everyone's made it through," said Nemo. She took stock of the group, noting how ragged Krys and Kinu looked especially. Both looked quite battered, but Krys' injuries seemed the more severe of the two, while she could sense a stark exhaustion in Kinu's reserves. "They're not my strongest spells, but I have just enough juice left to do some patching up."

She touched Krys' shoulder, and the latter felt the rather disturbing sensation of flesh moving in ways it shouldn't, or perhaps in ways in should at speeds it shouldn't. A feeling like termites wriggling beneath the skin, rent flesh melting back into place, the rush of lost blood regenerating through the body. A disturbing feeling, but once the work was done, a sensation of relief, and a considerable ebbing of pain followed.

With Kinu, she held her hands and went in semi-trance again, pulling from the veils of reality around her, tapping into the multiversal energies that she had earlier used to recharge some of her Mana. Instead of soaking it into herself, she funneled that power into the wild woman before her. She drew as much as she could in one go, and she felt the deeply dry well start to refill. She wasn't able to pump enough to respark her power, but at least now she was stabilized enough to respark it much sooner.

Nemo took a breath, feeling her own power bleed down to a sip. Rae went silent, and the dress seemed to hang a bit more heavily on Nemo's shoulders. "Whew. If we are secure, and the rest of you are able, might I suggest we do some round-robin with our recovery techniques? Once we get going, I think we should be able to fully recover each other fairly quickly."

Kinu recoiled for a moment as Nemo initiated the ritual, and her amber eyes widened. In all her experiences with magic, it had only recently dawned on her that these encounters were only as magic as she had known it. There was something in the air of this place, and though she could not see it for what it was, she'd felt it, and reached out to it, that ominous light that shone sublime from the golden boughs to the roots.

Nemo's trance, her magic, on the other hand, it appeared to be crafted with specific intention, and as the mana flowed from the Scribeland wanderer into her all too exhausted frame, rising from that feeling of hollow emptiness to the cusp of a second wind was as invigotating to her in this moment as those fleeting sparks of power that had all but possessed her.

"Auuuogh," came the strange half-moan, half-yawn, as she clasped her hands over her knees, arched her back into silent pops, than stood to her full height, "that's more like it! Boss Bunny and Top Hat comin' through again!"

Kinu found that she could breathe a bit easier, but there was a touch missing that would require some time.

"Ah, it's a shame, can't give you anythin' in exchange," she replied to the proposal to go 'round, "...but y'know, I think we can figure somethin' out sooner rather than later."

Trevor wipes his face. Already caked in thick mud from his strides over to the group, he smears grime on his face as hides his tears from Kinu.

"I don't know Mistress," he says, voice just slightly choked up, "Those two look occupied and fair hardy on top of that. Should we not just... leave 'em to it? Rolling around in the mud, seems a fitting end to creatures such as these,"

"...eh y'know what," she said, resigned, "morons like these ain't worth anyone's time. Can't do nothin' about a critter with no wits, yeah?"

Which brought her attention back to the other conversation at hand.

Lanky's eyebrows raise at this.

"Fairy? Excuse me?! This bitc-" he begins, his hand snapping the stiletto blade into a firm grip, but Calvin silences him with a raise of his hand.

"Easy there Lanky," he says in a firm but gentle tone, "And you as well, Masked One. There's been a fight, blood and tempers are running high. We, though if I'm to be truthful it's definitely you, have prevailed against monsters. Let's not let tempers fray and lead to more violence without cause that would soil that victory. Our party ain't looking for anything without profit and, politely, you don't exactly look like you've got much in the way of resources beyond the strength of your bodies and the magics therein,"

He keeps his hands open and raised just to the level of his chin, clearly shooting for diplomacy. Behind the obvious confidence and bravado, the party gets the sense that Calvin is sizing them up a little - just in case things go sideways.



"You know what?" Lanky said, smoothing his hair and returning to twirling his knife, though with a slightly fraught edge to his demeanour, "I take it back. I like this one,"

Calvin rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers thrice, presumably indicating that he should be the one to do the talking from now on. Lanky tsks slightly and turns back to look toward the bank, waving a hand at the rest of the crew who are still holed up within.


"If there's one thing this place has taught me," Calvin says, gesturing around at the infinite city, "It's that assumptions are seldom correct. Your boy Trevor there is a bit more backwoods than the likes of us. Though, that said, not all of us from the same homeland neither - The Bez, Digger and Bones are all lads we met here in the big city,"

He leans back and rocks onto his feet, standing up.

"Now, least we can do is get Bones to have a look at you. He's a good healer, decent guy. Patching you up is the minimum. Best good to get you of this mud, can't imagine it's good for you neither. Now, I can't speak for you, not sure who's in charge in your outfit to be honest, but you've helped us with a score so, if you're so inclined, you're entitled to a cut,"

Lanky spins around at this.

"A cut?!" he says, his voice almost a shriek.

"Honour amongst thieves, Lanky," Calvin says, his voice hard and uncompromising.

"Morgan is going to positively shit himself," Lanky remarks quietly.

The two Brutes continue to strike at one another, their fists punctuating the conversation with thunks and dull impacts that echo through the gardens.

The moment the fairy grippd the stilleto, Kinu's eyes widened, and her smile split as she crouched and spread her arms...

...of course, the Ginger reigned him in and made them something of an offer.

Drawing a hand to her face, she brushed a hand over the bloody laugh line that cracked from the corner of her mouth, past her right eye, and lift a shard from her temple as it stuck to her palm. Just as swiftly as it had passed, the wound had faded to a faint red smear.

"This ain't a mask," she said, before turning her attention back to his comrade.

"Yeah, Lanky." What a goof-ass name. "Our cut. Your booty."

Watching these two moronic hulks go at it, resigned to their lot with no shift in momentum nor perceivable end, had taken any heart she had to finish the job. However, as Krys had earlier indicated, there was more to this than there first appeared. In addition, the Hellhound's nose had brought them here in the first place, and she wasn't leaving without scoping this out.

"You were after somethin' in there, which is why the Archduke's goon squad came rollin' up, yeah?"

[Nik Hasta]

With that, Krys stands straighter, taking her weight off Trevor. "I'll manage now, Trevor. Thanks. And I'm glad I helped you, before. Very glad." They glance toward Calvin. "I'll wait out here. Your Bones can keep his resources; my injuries will heal." Some will not, but that's unimportant. "I'll just keep watch." For threats. And on you. Krys doesn't trust them, not with that Lanky. But can they be blamed? They're desperate. Desperate people make tribes and value that tribe. And base their choices around those values.

Just like Krys must.

Calvin looks them up and down, appraising the effort it's taking to keep them upright and the amount of blood staining them. Krys sees genuine concern in his eyes and he opens his mouth as if to try and persuade them to contrary but pauses and then nods.

"Suit yourself friend," he says, "It's perhaps the least we could do. If you want to lurk in a swamp like this for fear of our crew, that's fine. Honestly those instincts will serve you well round here. I know you can't take the word of a thief for much but, I promise we'll not hurt any of you. As I said, you've saved our lives and you're hardly harmless yourselves. We don't want to mix it up with you and that can be an end to it. We'll offer you a cut, healing is on the table but if you're having none of it then that's what it'll be,"

He takes a breath and small breeze picks up, sending a small shower of yet more fallen leaves drifting across the shattered remains of the garden.

The moment the fairy grippd the stilleto, Kinu's eyes widened, and her smile split as she crouched and spread her arms...

...of course, the Ginger reigned him in and made them something of an offer.

Drawing a hand to her face, she brushed a hand over the bloody laugh line that cracked from the corner of her mouth, past her right eye, and lift a shard from her temple as it stuck to her palm. Just as swiftly as it had passed, the wound had faded to a faint red smear.

"This ain't a mask," she said, before turning her attention back to his comrade.

"Yeah, Lanky." What a goof-ass name. "Our cut. Your booty."

Watching these two moronic hulks go at it, resigned to their lot with no shift in momentum nor perceivable end, had taken any heart she had to finish the job. However, as Krys had earlier indicated, there was more to this than there first appeared. In addition, the Hellhound's nose had brought them here in the first place, and she wasn't leaving without scoping this out.

"You were after somethin' in there, which is why the Archduke's goon squad came rollin' up, yeah?"

Lanky lets out a slight snigger.

"The Viceroy - that prick," he said. Calvin shared a grim smile as Lanky expanded on this point, "The Viceory is some jumped up wannabe dictator who seems to think that this infinite city is his turf now. These slimey lads were some of his main goons, got a few more of them that we've seen but the Commander there," Lanky points to the foetid pool that was once their enemy, "...was the source of them. You might have really damaged his operation with that one. But nah, he doesn't know us personally. More he's either 'arresting'..."

Lanky makes air quotes with his fingers at this term and pulls a face with his long tongue lolling out.

"...or just flatly killing everyone who doesn't follow his line. You see it all over. I'm sure you've come up against dictators and the like in your homelands, 'specially with a mouth like that one you," Lanky shoots Kinu a glance with those words with a not-wholly-unkind smirk, "Tryanny, it seems, is a common feature of infinity,"

"Suffice to say, the Viceroy doesn't know of us personally," Calvin says, picking up the conversational flow with an ease that demonstrates how familiar Lanky and he are with each other's conversational patterns, "Nor does he know specifically that we're here. We cased this place a few days ago. After being here a while, you get a sense where stuff might be held - Morgan's definitely got the nose for it. We just got unlucky is all. I imagine, when they figure out what's happened to the Commander they'll be looking for whoever was here. But, joys of infinity, it's hard to track people,"

Lanky chips in once more.

"But it's weird though, right Boss?" he says, "Sometimes this place has a way of twisting you towards the last people you want to see,"