[RP]Skies of Elleard

Athena woke up on the ground, head pounding incessantly. Her eyes were stinging,and as she blinked to try and wake herself up and relieve the pain, tears fell from her eyelids and onto the carpet. Her eyes were watering. Probably had been all night. A nasty side effect of too many Ephemera pills.

Picking herself off the ground and shaking her head in a vain attempt to drive off the headache, she limped to her bathroom. A stabbing pain shot through her leg, but quickly faded after a few seconds. Fucking Ephemera. Leaving her in this state.

Ugh. Her face was all pale, and full of emerging acne. Disgusting. Slapping a little cream on her face, she hoped it would be gone by noon. She was on patrol today, which was always fun, and she had to contact a few privates about protocol. They had been breaking the rules or something like that. How dull.

As she changed into a uniform adorned with the Skylerk colours, she looked at the pills on her bedside table. Hand on her hips, she contemplated her options. She was still "hungover," for want of a better term, on the last batch.

...One couldn't hurt. Unscrewing the lid, she took out a single, rose pink Ephemeron and put it in her mouth. They could be swallowed with water, but Athena liked the sugary taste chewing them unleashed. Upon swallowing it, Athena hesitated. Taking out two more pills and slipping them into the pocket of her shirt, she walked briskly out the door.
 
(OOC: G'modding permitted by Kevin so that we can both get to the convention)

Dominic grinned as Wilheim finally shook his hand to confirm the deal, delighted by the fact that he'd been able to find a qualified person to hire at the very first place he visited. He was also a tad relieved that the man didn't seem to recognize his name; despite the media's rabid plight to alert everyone in Skylerk of his family's tenuous financial situation, apparently they hadn't fully succeeded yet. And while he did have the cash with which to pay the man, he didn't exactly want him to get the wrong idea. Just as he was starting to feel optimistic about the mission, however, Wilheim brought up a good point.

"Fair enough, kid. but first we'll need to find an airship. I don't own one, and my contracts usually provide an airship."

An airship would certainly help one search the world for an artifact, Dominic thought, feeling a slight pang of annoyance at the fact that his father had recently sold the one he'd been scheduled to inherit. He was about to agree with Wilheim, and inquire where they might look for one, when the professor spoke up.

"Well, there is a convention currently ongoing nearby. Maybe someone there can provide an airship for you."

He was absolutely right: the annual Zyklon science convention, where every technological wonder and its mother were displayed in fascinating exhibitions, ranging from small-scale household inventions to huge steam-powered vehicles. How could he have forgotten? He, Dominic, had always been in attendance; despite the fact that the Atherton steam engine had always been more of a staple in society than a spectacle, it was still used by many of the technicians to power their innovations, and he'd always enjoyed walking around knowing many of the featured presentations wouldn't be possible without the help of a manufacturing company that he would one day be in charge of. The inventions themselves were very exciting anyway, and he couldn't imagine how much fun it would be to walk away from the place with an airship this time. He was, admittedly, a little concerned about the cost; but if they were lucky, maybe they'd be able to find a good deal, or at least talk themselves into one. And, if they were lucky, they might even find other things they could use on their expedition, or more people who would be willing to come along and give them a hand with it.

"Heh, thanks Professor Hillenberand. Till we meet again."

"Cheerio, old bean, and you take care now."

Dominic was drawn back out of his thoughts by Wilheim thanking the professor and starting to leave. Not wanting to fall behind, Dominic quickly gave an appreciative wave to the elderly gentleman, and followed Wilheim out of the building, hoping that they would find what they were looking for.

It wasn't long before the two of them reached the convention center, a massive blue dome-shaped building that looked like it could house a number of large inventions. As Dominic strolled up to the door, he turned to Wilheim and said a temporary farewell. “I'll meet you in a little while. I think if we split up we can cover more ground, and find something worthwhile much faster. Come find me if you see anything appropriate.” He suddenly remembered the terms of their agreement, and thought of the cash buried deep within the pocket hidden in the back of his coat. “Oh, and I'll pay you once we get on board,” he added. “It'd make a bit of a scene if I pulled it all out right now, and you do need to watch your pockets around here.” He turned back towards the entrance, and made his way inside, waving at an older gentleman near the door who recognized him.

The convention was swamped with people by now, with onlookers from all walks of life—couples with small children looking to enjoy a day out, distinguished elderly socialites looking to invest in anything that appeared novel and promising, a few scroungy-looking characters here and there who were waiting for wallets to be abandoned on the ground in the excitement of the festivities....And, of course, people like himself—young men fascinated by the innovative possibilities offered by steam-powered mechanics. He gave nods to acknowledge all the men he saw that he knew, and winks and charming smiles to some of the women, though he received no positive responses; most of the men they were with were admittedly far more financially successful than he was. It was a bit disheartening; but still, he enjoyed being out of the house for a change, rather than staying hidden from his creditors; being in a large crowd gave him at least some degree of refreshing anonymity.

Finding no real opportunities to socialize for any length of time, and driven by his original purpose, his eyes soon drifted over the top of the crowd, which was somewhat easy given his height, and he quickly located an area with a few airships on display, stationed on elevated platforms to enhance their presentation. Uncertain from this distance which one might be best suited to their needs, he worked his way through the masses, hoping to get there before anyone else had placed a claim on the best one. He didn't get very far, however, before he heard a voice that made him want to claw his own eyes out and mount them on the wall on a stick.

“Well, if it isn't good old Dominic Atherton!”

He knew that arrogant, syrupy voice anywhere. It belonged to Jeremy Leywater, the sole son and heir of Leywater & Co.'s chief executive officer. He was a master at contriving congeniality, and having lived under the shadow of Atherton Industries' market dominance for most of his life, it was only natural that he reveled in taking out his frustrations on Dominic. This time, however, the cards were entirely in his hand; the two hadn't encountered each other since the new Leywater engine had been unveiled, and Jeremy had a whole backlog of insults just brimming with excitement to be unleashed upon his finally upended nemesis.

Dominic slowed to a stop with blatant reluctance; he knew this couldn't end well. He rolled his eyes, sighed to himself, then turned around slowly to face his addressee. “Jeremy Layabout!” he replied with mock enthusiasm, folding his hands behind his back cordially. “Fancy seeing you here. I would've thought you'd be too busy now with grown-up things to mull about in a toy store.”

“Heh heh heh,” Jeremy chortled, through an annoyingly saccharine, toothy grin. “Yes, well,” he drawled, his slicked-back blond hair reflecting an irritating amount of light. “You know I always like keeping up with the finest innovations. That's what business is all about, after all—staying one step ahead of your competitors.” He exchanged a cheerful glance and a giggle with the young woman who was attached to his arm, who seemed fascinated by him; then he returned his gaze to Dominic, and faked a gasp. “Hey, but you would know all about that, wouldn't you? After all, I certainly wasn't aware you could turn a profit from full-time recreation! How do you manage it?” He feigned a look of fascinated interest which merited a thousand smacks across the face.

Dominic hesitated, choosing his next words carefully, then acknowledged the knock with a chagrined laugh. “Well,” he replied coolly, “if I told you, it wouldn't be a secret now, would it?” He nodded at the elegantly-dressed young woman on Jeremy's arm, and decided to take a knock at her. “Your sister looks nice today, by the way.”

“Sister?! Noooooo,” Jeremy retorted incredulously, squeezing her more tightly with the arm he already had around her. “She's my darling date for this evening! Isn't that right, pumpkin?” he cooed at her, giving her an overly sentimental peck on the lips and making gurgling noises at her, which she seemed very happy with. After what seemed like forever, he finally came up for air, and sighed contentedly, returning his gaze to Dominic. “Ah, it's so nice to be admired,” he said airily. He cocked his head condescendingly at his foe. “You must remember what it's like, don't you, being sought after by people who don't have a gun pointed at your body?” His eyes went wide as he pretended to suddenly remember the newspaper that was rolled up under one of his arms, and he pulled it out, then shook it open to the front page. “Hey—we were just talking about you a short while ago in fact, after seeing this in the afternoon post. It was quite...intriguing.” He held up the paper for Dominic to see, his eyes wide; in big, bold letters across the front were the words “ATHERTON FORTUNE CRUMBLES IN FACE OF DEBT,” followed by a sepia photograph underneath of Dominic's parlor wall, his belongings visible through the gaping hole the ruffian's mech had made.

Dominic frowned at the article, narrowing his eyes as he read the headline, then raised his eyebrows and gave an amused laugh. “Heh,” he replied with feigned relief, “I love how they do that. Always blowing things out of proportion for a profit. I was merely doing some renovations to my parlor, that's all. Where do they get this stuff—”

“Heh. Really?” Jeremy eyed him with stern skepticism; clearly he wasn't buying it. And from the look on his face, he wasn't about to let Dominic walk away from this one without suffering some sort of public humiliation.

Dominic blinked at him hesitantly, a bit taken aback by his sudden cut-the-crap attitude. He thought for a minute, eying the other man warily, then finally came up with a good answer. “You know,” he said finally, smirking and taking a casual step towards him, “I must say, I'm flattered that the most exciting thing you can think of to do with your lady friends is talk about me.” He glanced down at the paper in Jeremy's hand, then back up again, and gave him a look of sympathy. “What's the matter, Jeremy—you're unable to entertain them in any other way?”

FLOP.

Jeremy had removed the glove from his left hand, and tossed it onto the ground in front of Dominic, glaring at him coldly. His expression was rather pallid, as though the issue had hit home. He stood there for a minute, stone-still, seething, then finally grew impatient. “Well?” he pressed him, nodding vigorously at it, eager to see if his rival would accept his challenge.

Dominic gazed at him in shock. He couldn't help but grin; he had actually hit a soft spot. He gave a short laugh, amused by his fellow socialite's reaction, and decided he would humor him. He brought his hands together in front of him, staring at the man levelly, and slowly pulled off his left glove. He tossed it onto the ground casually, landing it precisely on top of Jeremy's, then eased the gun case off of his shoulder and gently lowered it the rest of the way to the ground, a little off to the side of where they were standing. He readjusted his long coat with a shake; and as the other man slowly began to draw a steel dagger from a sheath in his overcoat, Dominic withdrew one of his own long, silver-handled daggers, from the respective same place. He brought the tip level with Jeremy's chest, and positioned himself in an appropriate refuse stance, as several of the spectators around them realized what was going on and began to clear out and away from them.

Dominic thought through their options for a second, then offered a suggestion. “First blood?” he asked in a low tone, indicating what rules they would adhere to.

“That's all I'll need,” replied Jeremy coolly, settling into his own stance with obvious confidence.

Dominic smirked with approval, and nodded, confident he could handle him. “Lay on.”

The young men began to circle each other slowly, keeping their guards up, as the crowd around them looked on from a safe distance. Then, unable to wait any longer, Jeremy made the first move. He lowered his guard arm, and lunged at Dominic, aiming for his chest. Dominic moved out of the way easily, and caught Jeremy's offensive arm near the wrist, bringing his own blade around towards Jeremy's throat. Jeremy was ready for him, however, and caught Dominic's offensive wrist with his own parrying arm, then kicked Dominic in the stomach, throwing him backwards onto the ground. Dominic got back up, in a slight daze, then raised his blade again, sore but visibly uninjured. He watched his opponent warily, waiting for him to let his guard down again, and soon saw another opening. He went for it, then was blocked, then parried another incoming attack, careful to avoid being kicked in the stomach again if they were to indeed throw the rules of etiquette out the window. He thought of something equally devious he could do, and attempted it as soon as possible: another opening presented itself, and he clocked Jeremy in the head with his pommel, hoping he had hit him hard enough to draw blood. To his disappointment, however, the skin didn't break, so he withdrew a few steps, and settled into a comfortable defensive stance as he considered what to do next. He sparred with Jeremy quite a few more times over the next few minutes, both of them failing to get an opening on each other, until finally Jeremy left his upper arm unprotected. Feeling the fight was his, Dominic went for it eagerly, slashing through Jeremy's coat with his blade tip, and stepped back triumphantly, waiting to see the precious trickle of red he was hoping for.

Jeremy stopped, and glanced with concern at his shoulder, wondering the same thing. No blood spurted forth from the tear, however, and he shook his head at Dominic smugly, indicating that he had not succeeded. Dominic frowned, astonished, then put up his guard once more, as Jeremy continued to barrage him with revenge-driven attacks, almost relentlessly.

The fight went on like this for a few more minutes, both men exerting large amounts of energy and making no progress, despite landing an occasional grappling-related blow on each other. Then, as Dominic went in for what he thought was a routine attempt at catching Jeremy's offensive wrist, the unthinkable happened: he overcompensated to the left, and as he came in with his off hand, Jeremy thrust the tip of his blade all the way through it, skewering Dominic's left palm in a bloody mess.

“AAAAAAAAGH!”

Dominic shouted at the blinding pain, frozen in his tracks, cringing as he squinted at the blade sticking through the center of his palm. Jeremy hesitated for a moment, smiling cruelly with unbelievable satisfaction, then removed the knife through a different way than he'd come in—by dragging it out laterally between Dominic's fingers, slicing his hand open even more widely. Dominic screamed again, feeling a pang of nausea at the pit of his stomach, and doubled over, grabbing his hand, oblivious to the blood that was now staining one of his favorite gloves.

Jeremy, still smiling, narrowed his eyes, and taking a step back, pulled a large handkerchief out of his coat pocket, completely unconcerned. “Oh—pity, isn't it?” He brought the dagger's blade up to the handkerchief, and wiped it clean slowly, tenderly, as though he were enjoying it. “Now you'll only have one hand to pleasure yourself with.” He eyed the blade, ensuring that it was clean, and then repocketed both it and the soiled kerchief, as though he might keep it for its sentimental value. “Or beg with, whichever one suits you.” He shrugged carelessly, then turned around, and began walking away, as though nothing had happened.

Dominic raised his eyes heavily at him, shaking with anger and nightmarish agony. “B—bastard!” he groaned, straining to put any words together. “That wasn't—”

“Fair? Heh.” Jeremy gave a cold laugh, then shook his head bitterly, and walked away for good, taking up the arm of his onlooking female companion once more.

Dominic stood there panting, shaking his own head, unable to get any more words out. He eyed the man's retreating form with seething hatred, then straightened up, trying not to embarrass himself any further by giving off an impression of weakness to complement his lack of skills. He gritted his teeth as he held his hand together firmly, and looked around the room anxiously, trying to figure out what to do. The nearest physician he could think of was about ten blocks away, and he'd surely pass out from the blood loss before he got there...
 
At the Show, Skylar only had to stand and Move the guns in his arm around. His weapon integration was the best in Skylerk. He had heard a commotion from behind him, but it wasn't his place to interfere. He had a paycheck to make. But then after a few minutes, he heard a shout that caused Skylar to look. He saw the end of everything, and even heard one of the men say something degrading about having one hand. As a result, going against his job, Skylar stepped to the man that had emerged victorious and clasped his mechanical arm on his shoulder. "Would you know I only had one arm as well?"
After saying this smartass remark, he approached the man that had lost the spar. He could see that it was only that it was the left hand that had been caught. Skylar could help. As a result, Skylar said to the man after realizing how familiar he seemed, "My name is Skylar, I think I can help you." Glancing around really quick, he then asked, "Are you alone?" If he was alone this would be much easier, else he would have to find a way to carry 2 others in his 2 seating car.

OOC: Low inspiration so Lewa will wait I guess :hmmm:
 
OOC: Short one.

Cuclainn was happily viewing the exhibits, particularly a small little device that produce light in different spectrum. Whilst being entirely absorbed in the display with a bunch of children around her, a commotion to the rear caused the crowd to surge and move. This in turn made people bump into her and the children before one burly man elbowed Culcainn. Indignified, Cuclainn proceeded to grab the poor man by the collar and hoisted him into the air. His legs kicked the air as he struggled to break free when Cuclainn drew his face just two inches from her own.

{Agitated} You bumped into me and the children. I do hope you have a good excuse for such rudeness.

Urg! I do! There is some duel over there! People are gathering to watchj or trying to get away!

Cuclainn held the man there for a second before she dropped him. There was no reason for him to lie. What did annoy her was the idea of two men fighting in such a magnificent place and where children were. Her wrapped poleaxe in hand, Cuclainn pushed her way to the front.

“AAAAAAAAGH!”

She had pushed through just in time to see the knife of one of the gentleman plunge through the other's palm before mercilessly sliced outwards. While she cared not too much for the man as it was a duel, Cuclainn tried to avoid bloodshed in the presence of small children. It as best to get the man to some treatment and stop the other in case of more attacks.

“Now you'll only have one hand to pleasure yourself with. Or beg with, whichever one suits you.”

It didnt come, but the comment about the loss of arms irked Cuclainn. As one without any, such comments were insulting. Even without her own, she would not beg. Whilst he walked by, Cuclainn whispered coldly in his ears

{Murderous} Do not look down on those without limbs. Unlike the soft man there, you're head will not be on its neck if you make another wisecrack such as that again.

Almost simultaneously, a rather familiar man also approached the other duelist.

"Would you know I only had one arm as well?"

Of course Cuclainn recognised the other man from the surgery. It was a miraculous coincidence, to meet less than a day later, in a place far away inside the same convention in the same section. Truly, a greeting is in order. Cuclainn pushed her way after him, who seemed to be approaching the man with the injured hand.

"My name is Skylar, I think I can help you. Are you alone?"

{Matter-of-fact} A tourniquet is in order, and if possible, lift the hand upwards above the heart.

Then towards Skylar, she continued.

{Inquiring} I do believe we have met at Dr Aspel's clinic. Cuclainn at your service. Let us get this gentleman to a surgery. Is there anything i can help with?

​
 
“I'll meet you in a little while. I think if we split up we can cover more ground, and find something worthwhile much faster. Come find me if you see anything appropriate.”

Wilheim thought it was a good idea, gives him time to find something decent in this affair. "Alright then, I'll find you if I find anything."

“Oh, and I'll pay you once we get on board. It'd make a bit of a scene if I pulled it all out right now, and you do need to watch your pockets around here.”

"Fair enough..." Wilheim said, already moving his way into the crowd. For a few moments, he checked out the various sights and technological advances. One such tech piece that caught his eye was an Arm designed for mechs, another was a High-Powered Shoulder-Mounted Shotgun, named the Slug Gun.

“AAAAAAAAGH!”

Wilheim heard a scream not far from his current location. Pulling out his revolver, he headed straight towards the source of the scream. Running and pushing his way through the crowd, he saw Dominic writhing in pain and an unknown assailant already walking away from the situation.
"My name is Skylar, I think I can help you. Are you alone?"

"No, he's got me..." Wilheim said calmly.

While he let the assailant get away (for now) his focus now is getting his new contractor medical attention. Removing a piece of cloth from his side pocket, he quickly wrapped Dominic's bloody hand. "Come, we need to take this kid to a hospital. You have a mode of transportation?"
 
Julius:

"To be frank, I dont care about them either. Though I would ask that you refrain from maiming them. I get enough of their type asking me for my assistance. As for the cost itself, seeing as its just a room, 250 bani a month. And if you would like I can offer you one of the tables in the back room."

As he spoke he was writing out the terms of the contract on a paper before him. "This is an unlimited lease. As long as you want or a short as you want. I will be needing first and last month's pay however, even if you only decide to spend a month. So it would be in your best interest to remain at least that long."

Julius grinned as he slid the paper across to Shadow. "And one more thing. By signing that, you leave me completely neutral and without knowledge of what you do, have done or will do despite what, if anything, you decide to disclose to me."

The ratting of metal from the graft room caught Julius' attention. "It would seem our guest is awakening." A yell echoed out from the room, confirming Julius' suspicions. "I would've thought he would be out of it longer," he said, sliding off his chair.

He went back to the graft room to find the unfortunate young man looking around wildly, trying to clutch at the spots of pain on his body. "Will you calm down now? I think this is just an awful way of thanking someone who just saved your life. Though considering what youve been through, it's expected."

Walking to the boy's table, he let one of his mechanical arms snake down and grab a syringe of sedative. The boy let out another yell of pain. "Expected. I doubt you would want to talk after this ordeal and whatever caused you to come under my care. So, we'll let you sleep it off." With that he stbbed the boy with the needle in his left arm and injected the sedative.

"Sleep well now, and I'll see you in the morning." Julius watched as the boy's eyes fluttered a few times before they finally closed. Coming back to the front desk, he shook his head. "A shame it is, really. I had high hopes that he would be ready to talk when he awakened. But I suppose we will wait for morning to find out just who he is. A remarkable kid he is, maybe only a few years younger than me but hes definitely seen a lot."

"Anyways, Shadow, your bedroom is upstairs on the second floor, second door to the left. The first door is the bathroom which is connected to the bedroom. I will be remaining down here." He pulled out the notebook he had sketched in while looking at Skylar's tech. Tapping the book, he smiled. "The peacekeepers around here will be getting a new upgrade option very soon."
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Alistere:

He sat at the edge of the roof, high above the rest of the city. From the mission briefing, this merchant was usurping the buisness away from about three others in the Neristrian port city of Thalnax. The three had come together to ask the Underground for assistance in eliminating him.

Wasn't that interesting but the pay was about five times the norm. And that was the job cut. Who knew what secrets lay beneath his feet, ready to be taken?

Pushing off, he grabbed the edge of the roof with one bloodstained glove and swung in through the open window to the bedroom on the top floor. With one swift movement his sword was out and he was standing, the moonlight glimmering on the crimson blade.

The vacuum obliterating the sound of his movements, he took his place beside the door and waited, Bloodscythe at the ready. As expected, the merchant came into the room, rubbing his eyes sleepily and smacking his lips from his midnight snack.

He had expected the merchant to be more corpulent; like the ones that had asked for him specifically. Shrugging slightly, he blurred behind the merchant and stabbed him through the back, the blade coming through the front of his nightshirt, still reflecting the moonlight though now it was the color of blood.

The merchant gurgled slightly, and looked down to see his blood staining his night shirt red. Removing the blade, the assassin pushed the merchant forward to the ground, where he rolled over and pointed at his attacker, desperately trying to cast a spell.

The assassin pointed his blade at the merchant and instantly, the merchant became a dried, liquidless husk, a shell void of it's previous life. It fell, shattering into pieces as it hit the stonework floor. Sharp gusts of winds cycled around the pieces, crumbling it smaller and smaller until it was dust before carrying it out the window and into the night.

Alistere began cleaning his blade, running his tongue over the metal, the taste of a man living off others rich in his mouth. He savoured this taste; it was pure strife. People hated other people and would kill them for their own gain. Here, it had come full circle.

He found the safe where it usually was, hidden behind a picture of who else but the merchant himself. "Vanity..." he muttered, the words lost int he vortex. It was a simple mage lock; removed by time or by a keyword.

Alistere had no time to determine the keword, so he wore it down, eroding the lock with wind and water until it crumbled. Swinging opent he safe, he found several million bani.

Taking a cut for himself, the total not being known to anyone, he shoveled the rest into the bag. Hidden behind the money was something even more unusual, something no one had known about. Behind the millions of bani was a black sword, scabbarded just enough to show the metal.

To Alistere, it looked almost identical to Bloodscythe; it even had the two gem slots for focus gems. Even more mysterious was that the belt the scabbard was attahed to was the same as Bloodscythe, down to the color. He had known his blade was special maybe this was something similar.

He pulled it out and buckled it just under Bloodscythe's belt. The unfamiliar weight on his right side was unusual but he could manage. Sheathing the now clean Bloodscythe, he restored the equilibrium at his waist. Hefting the beg of bani over his shoulder he lept out the window.

As he fell, water drops coalesced at his shoulderblades and froze, creating an icy pair of wings that flapped once and then Alistere was in the air, cutting through the wind itself.

He enjoyed this part of the job. Flying was fun; he almost wanted to laugh. Without the Underground, he would probably never have known he could do this. He twisted over once, enjoyed the rush. For the first time that night he smiled.

Flying for some twenty minutes or so, he came to the waypoint several dozen miles outside Thalnax. It was one of the inns that remained open all the time, offering shelter to whoever might find themselves there at any time.

Dissolving his wings before he walked in, he smiled at the bar manager. "Hey. Can I get a Emerald Flash? And can you tell me which room is 11?" The bartender mixed the drink and gave it to Alistere. "Room 11 is down that hall, fouth door on the right. Someone's there though," he said gruffly.

"Oh I know. He's my mate. Promised him I'd meet up with him here before I left town." He downed his drink and flashed a smile. "Thanks for that drink and the help." He placed a few bani extra on the counter. "Best Emerald Flash I've had yet."

Leaving the bartender to his money, Alistere went down the hall to Room 11. Opening the door he saw Roth. "I expect everything went well Sky Scythe?" he asked, using the codename given to Alistere.

"Quite. The guy had several million to him. And he had this." Alistere pointed to the new sword. "Wasn't on the return dossier so I took it a smy prize." He handed the bag to Roth.

"Just be careful you dont take too much," the older man warned. He took the bag and left through the same door. "Next job is in Renlak. Earthen Ring will be waiting at the Frozen Howl. The room is yours if you want it," he said as he closed it.

Alistere smiled and flopped down on the bed. Felt good to rest again. He snuffed the candle and went to sleep.
 
After glancing around for a minute for someone to help him, Dominic's heavy eyes wandered back to the receding form of Jeremy Leywater, whose female companion had refused his arm and disappeared into the abating crowd somewhere. Dominic wondered with weak amusement whether he could shoot him from here, but he knew that such a move would only land him with more trouble; the satisfaction of immediate retribution wasn't worth a lifetime in prison, and if he, Dominic, did somehow manage to escape from the local law enforcement, he'd never be able to return to the city. Resolving bitterly that he'd have to let him go for now, it did entertain him to see two interesting-looking strangers confront the bastard, and offer their complaints. A tall woman in a black bodice dress with mechanical arms was standing near the front of the crowd, and she whispered something into Jeremy's ear as he walked by that gave him a very startled and unsettled expression. Then, a young man with bluish-purple hair, a mechanical arm, and two mechanical legs put his artificial arm on Jeremy's shoulder.

"Would you know I only had one arm as well?"

As Dominic watched with amusement, Jeremy glanced back and forth at the strangers, and backed away from them, looking somewhat put off. “Hey, this is between myself and that arrogant cad over there,” he said quickly, pointing straight at Dominic. “I certainly didn't mean any offense to either of you.” He hurried off and disappeared into the crowd; he apparently didn't want to get into any more trouble than he already had. Or, thought Dominic wryly, expose his back for too long; he'd seen Dominic sharpshoot in a competition once, and had been so devastatingly trumped by him that he'd thrown his own collection of guns into a river.

Dominic gave the strongest laugh that he could, though it made his eyes roll back in his head and he had to close them. He reopened them again in a moment, to find that the man with three mechanical limbs had approached him.

"My name is Skylar, I think I can help you."

The man glanced around quickly.

"Are you alone?"

Dominic, grateful for the attention, was about to answer him when the woman came over, and offered a suggestion, in a somewhat monotonous voice.

{Matter-of-fact} A tourniquet is in order, and if possible, lift the hand upwards above the heart.

A bit surprised at all the help he was getting, Dominic gave her a curious look, then started to answer the man's question when he heard a familiar voice reply instead.

"No, he's got me..."

He turned his head slightly, and saw Wilheim standing there next to him, his revolver drawn. Wilheim quickly took a piece of cloth out of his pocket, and took Dominic's hand and wrapped it up. It was still hurting like hell, but any step towards getting it attended to was a welcome one. Satisfied that it was tight enough, Dominic gave him a weak nod of appreciation, then tried to hold his hand up as high as he could, taking the woman's advice. “Thanks,” he managed to mutter towards all three of the people, though words were becoming harder for him to form; he was starting to get somewhat dizzy and listless, and he found himself having to close his eyes more and more...

{Inquiring} I do believe we have met at Dr Aspel's clinic. Cuclainn at your service. Let us get this gentleman to a surgery. Is there anything i can help with?

"Come, we need to take this kid to a hospital. You have a mode of transportation?"

The words seemed to be swirling around Dominic; he found himself having trouble making sense of them, or even keeping track of who was talking to whom. He looked around at everyone hazily; his vision actually blurred for a moment. It sounded like they were about to take him somewhere though, so he remembered his case, and trudged over to where it was to reclaim it. “Hang on--” he grunted, staggering over to it, “I—need...my guns...” He bent over, hoisted the case onto his shoulder with his good hand, took a few slow steps back towards the others, then collapsed face first onto the floor, and passed out.
----------------------------
(OOC: G'modding permitted at this point :D)
 
Darquewillow was happy that the shackles were off. She felt her wrists and noticed the imprint of them against her soft skin. She looked up at Raistlin again, just to make sure he was still normal. Raistlin was looking at Seventeen, who had now told him her name; Xerian.


“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Raistlin said. As he listened to Stephen announce they would all be fine. “Don't worry about anyone finding us. We'll all be fine. I'll make sure nothing happens to you, Darquewillow, or Stephen over there.”


Stephen then mentioned getting aboard the airship. “How about it, Xerian, do you want to come with us?” Asked Darquewillow. It would be nice to have another female on board.
 
Rao Thembal had been walking in a cave for what seemed like miles. His apprentice Elanora went ahead looking at strange markings on the cave walls. This was a srtange place. The cave was illuminated by cracks in the ceiling above where small beams of sunlight peeped through. "Isn't this place cool?" Elanora asked. "It just goes on for miles!"

Rao smiled. He felt like this was a well needed change. "Yes we've strayed a little far though...The ship could be fixed by now Elanora."

His apprentice stopped in her tracks and looked back at him with a saddened expression. He felt guilty at an instant. She had wanted to play with him for the longest. This quality could be well spent.

Rao could see Elanora run off further into the cave. "Wait." he said as he strode to keepp up.

The ground beneath his feet didn't feel loose or shaky but Rao did hear the crack below his feet. He couldn't respond in time for the earth below to break apart into a bigger abyse below him. Rao held outhis arm to reach for a part of the ground to grab ahold onto, but his reach was off by an inch. He went hurtling down into darkness, without a scream or flailing but with panic.

A thud was all he heard, and a stabbing pain in his back was what had resulted from the large fall. Rao no longer could see light from above. He could no longer smell the damp cave walls, he now smelled only mud and earth. He could no longer hear Elanora's happenings, he was at least half a mile below into the earth.

With a defeated sigh he snapped his fingers on a rune upon his gloves. Fire erupted from his palm. As he did this, torches that could now be seen lit up along the corridor he seemed to be trapped in. Rao flicked his wrist as his fire went out. The flames in the torhes lit up the passage way. The walls seemed to contain ancient markings and writings. Rao's eyes were wide. He had made a discovery of some sort, but he didn't know what of.

He followed the passageway down to the end to see what would lie at the end. In a sudden he heard noises, angry noises in the cave...
 
"To be frank, I dont care about them either. Though I would ask that you refrain from maiming them. I get enough of their type asking me for my assistance. As for the cost itself, seeing as its just a room, 250 bani a month. And if you would like I can offer you one of the tables in the back room."
"That sounds great, thank you. And I'm either going to kill them or injure them enough to leave me alone, whichever happens to suit the situation and my mood at the time. In other words, you don't have to worry bout them."
"This is an unlimited lease. As long as you want or a short as you want. I will be needing first and last month's pay however, even if you only decide to spend a month. So it would be in your best interest to remain at least that long."
"I have no place to go, so I guess I'll be sticking around for a while. I'll probably end up giving you each month as it comes, aside from the first and last."
"And one more thing. By signing that, you leave me completely neutral and without knowledge of what you do, have done or will do despite what, if anything, you decide to disclose to me."

Shadow breathed a mental sigh of relief.

"Good. That means you won't have to worry about ghosts of my past coming back to haunt me."

As Julius wandered back to check on his "patient", Shadow signed the paper and placed 500 bani on the table next to it. Doing odd jobs earned him a bit of money, and he would probably end up doing more odd jobs in the city. It seemed they needed engineers, and at the very least, he could pose as an unknown golem worker.

As Julius returned, commenting on how he wished the boy would be able to speak, Shadow slid the paper and money across the table back to Julius. Julius then gave him a mini-map of what he needed to do, a mental one anyways.

"Anyways, Shadow, your bedroom is upstairs on the second floor, second door to the left. The first door is the bathroom which is connected to the bedroom. I will be remaining down here."

Shadow stood, nodding politely to Julius.

"Alright then. I believe I will head off to bed then, and tomorrow I will figure out what to do next. If you need anything just let me know"

Shadow went up the stairs, into the indicated door, and collapsed onto the bed, asleep in about 5 seconds.
 
Within no time, a man who looked rather well-bodied for work and a familiar face had shown up. Skylar listened to what both had to say. He also watched as the man collapsed. "Skylar Toshio. I can take care of him, but if you two would come with me," He paused to pull out a small red ribbon and tie it around the mans wrist. "I have a job for you, build something, but I only have a 2 seated car, so you'll need your own transportation." Skylar then tightened the ribbon around the mans wrist in attempt to stop the flow of blood.

It was good the man was out cold, Or Skylar couldn't do this. His mechanical palm of his hand released a small butane lighter. Clicking it once, it lit right up as Skylar attempted to cauterize the wound. He would still have to do some work on the hand because the nature of such a cut would definitely have damaged the nerves. From the looks of it, Skylar could get away with replacing only two fingers. Picking the man up, "If you wanna come, just come to a town called Estes, or follow me..."

Leaving in a run, Skylar ignored getting his check. More important matters were t hand. He decided he would ignore speed limits now. He had to. Approaching his car, he set the man in the sitting position of his car's passenger seat and quickly moved to get in on the other side. He put the gas petal all the way down and sped on the road out of town. He was going much faster than before and he would arrive in about 15 minutes. That was enough time.
 
Stephen glanced at Raistlin as he dropped his rifle down off of his shoulder and griped it with his left hand "Anyway, lets get moving" Stephen muttered to the others as he began walking towards the exit of the forest keepingan eye out for any trouble in the distance, Gladly nothing was there. Stephen was thinking about what the new Furion had been doing in that forest, had it been mere coincidence that two Furions had Escaped within a couple of days of each other, or was this the neristrian's way to catch Stephen again. Shaking of these paranoid thoughts, Stephen returned his focus to the distance, searching for any Hostiles.
 
OOC: The wait has gone on long enough...

IC:

"Skylar Toshio. I can take care of him, but if you two would come with me,"

Wilheim saw Skylar tie a red ribbon to Dominic's hand to stop the flow of bleeding. "Alright then, where do you want me to go?"

"That's not a problem, just tell me where to go, and we'll see about the details when we get there." Wilheim responded as he saw Skylar use a butane lighter to cauterize the wound. For a doctor, the man was pretty skilled, but Dominic was still pretty shaken up.

Wilheim looked over to the female, she was pretty calm about it. She probably had or have seen similar injuries herself. Wilheim also saw something like that happen himself, and although he was injured before, many of the doctors he had were necessarily against the use of replacing his anatomy with gears and machines, possibly why he never had prosthetics for so long.

After Skylar picked up Dominic and taking him to his vehicle, he said to Wilheim, "If you wanna come, just come to a town called Estes, or follow me..."

"Alright, I'll see ya there." After that, Skylar sped off. "Best head in that direction myself." Wilheim thought before turning towards the lady. "Are you coming too?"
 
Cuclainn
​

"Are you coming too?"

Cuclainn pondered for a second. Skylar, or so he had introduced himself as, began off first, giving directions to herself and this man as to where he was going. While her connection with this incident was not that great, Cuclainn worried nonetheless. She had always been a sticky beak.

{Contemplation} Hm... maybe.... i guess i should. I do not think i can leave while i am uncertain as to his condition. Although, the only mode of transport i have would be my Mech, Noblese Oblige, but she is plenty fast.

Another problem arose. Oblige had similarly limited space for carrying passengers. She could fit another person inside the cockpit, but it was going to be bumpy and uncomfortable.

{Contemplation} In any case, i assume you have your own mode of transport? If so, then let us leave. Cuclainn's the name, by the way. My Mech is in hangar 3 so ill be on my way.

With the brief chat over, Cuclainn left the Science Convention and went towards the hangar where she left Oblige. It had been less than a day since she had got back and once more, she had to leave. Cuclainn regretted not being able to get a gun made as she powered her Mech up and within seconds, Cuclainn was jogging Oblige out of the city and picking up speed to get to Estes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arya

A melodious note floated inside the walls of the cavern. It was one of the many caverns inside the maze of corridors, though Arya has spent enough years to be able to read the paths like the back of her hand. Her fingers caressed the strings of her small harp, letting ntoes play off one after another. She had chosen this room because of its acoustics, but it had a bad tendency to amplify noises throughout the cave, just like right now. Stopping her playing, Arya could here two distinct voices and a barely audible argument deep down in the cave somewhere.

Sighing and massaging the bridge of her nose, Arya stood and let the small harp back into its casing before walking out down the corridor. A bunch of fireflies gathered around in front of her, just to provide more light even though she could already see quite well. Within a minute, Arya spotted one of the source of noise, a small girl by herself inside the cave.

Ah, a child. What a surprise.....(Is Elanora an Elf too? Age? Im assuming rather young)

Arya half mused to herself and half worried. The forest was dangerous, and although the caves were more safer in terms of wild animals, a lone child running around was not the best of ideas. It was probably for the best to approach her.

Young one, what are you doing alone in such a place? Are you lost or with others?

She raised her kiseru pipe to her lips and took a puff, before letting out the smoke. The hazy smoke floated in a flair of colours, forming into the shape of a galloping horse. The horse wafted towards the small girl before it dissipated. What she smoked had no nicotene nor narcotics inside, so was harmless to herself or the child.
​

 
{Contemplation} Hm... maybe.... i guess i should. I do not think i can leave while i am uncertain as to his condition. Although, the only mode of transport i have would be my Mech, Noblese Oblige, but she is plenty fast.


"Noblesse Oblige?!?" Wilheim thought. He was familiar with the name of that particular mech, the pilot being known simply as the "Clockwork Puppet." Could she be that very pilot...? Nonetheless, the safety of his contractor took importance above all else.

"So I've heard..."

{Contemplation} In any case, i assume you have your own mode of transport? If so, then let us leave. Cuclainn's the name, by the way. My Mech is in hangar 3 so ill be on my way.

"Don't worry bout my transport needs, I have a mech of my own." Wilheim said as he started walking off. He stopped for a moment, then said, "By the way, the name's Wilheim."

"Cuclainn, huh...Yeah, that's definitely who I thought she was..." Wilheim thought as he headed off to the hanger within the rock formation where he left his mech, Feniks. It took a few hours to get there, but the trip was worth it, seeing his beloved mech sitting there.

Powering it up, Feniks' torso rose off the ground, true to its name, like a pheonix rising above the ashes. it started walking slowly out of the hanger and as it up speed, began entered into it's sliding mode, moving quickly to Estes at it's highest speed possible.
 
Just as he thought, he quickly showed up home. Despite the short time, it was a fair distance from the capital city and his house was the biggest there, separate from the rest of the town. Pulling into his driveway, he didn't care to park neatly at all and instead came to a quick stop. Getting out, he hurried to pick Dominic up into his arms. He opened the door and quickly ran to his lab, where he lay Dominic on a table. It would never cut it for an operating table, but in this case all he needed was a place to set a hand.

Revealing one of his blades on his fingertips, he separated the wound again to look at the damage. It seemed he was wrong, he would need to replace 3 fingers instead. Not a problem. But he also knew there wasn't enough time to craft some custom fingers, so he walked over to one of his experimental arms that he already knew was functional and removed the ring, middle, and pointer finger. Tweaking a few things, he made it so that it was more compatible for Dominic's arm. The fingers weren't the same size, but he would fix that later.

Using the same blade on his finger as earlier, he started where the initial cut was. It was a good thing that the cut received was made by a sharp knife, it made it easier. He then removed anything that was no longer connected to the nerves, which were the three fingers he had already prepared. Thanks to the ribbon, the bleeding was at a minimal, making the work cleaner. First thing was first, to connect the blood vessels. Skylar walked over to the next table and opened a drawer from under it and pulled out a tubular item. This was his replacement for both veins and arteries. He cut them to the proper sizes, but also left a hole in one of them and quickly connected and melted it to the blood vessels.

The next thing was the converter for the energy. He was lucky he already had a small one that wouldn't take up too much space. Finding the fixed blood vessel that had a hole in it, he connected the small generator to it. With this, there would be no need for batteries. Now he had to get the muscles held in place to prevent needless pain. He had plenty of different bracers for this, but since he already took the fingers already made, he didn't need to make another. Instead, he connected all the muscles to the brace and finished grafting it onto his skin so it wasn't loose. A job like this would still need some fixing, but he would wait for the man to awaken.

--Lewa--

It was morning. As usual, Lewa was up early, but he was still feeling heavy from the good sleep he just got. The first thing he did was get himself a cup of coffee. It was always the first thing he ever did. Taking his cup of hot, steaming coffee, Lewa stepped outside. The sun was already up, it must have been 7 at the earliest. "What things have I that need doin', I wonder..." Lewa was trying to think of something that he needed to do, but nothing was coming to mind. "Lazy day it's turnin' to be." Taking his coffee back indoors, he finished the cup.

Now walking offer to his scythe, he rubbed his hand on it's sharp, sleek blade. It was something he had received from his father. He wouldn't give it away for anything, not even his life. After grabbing it and it's cover, he covered up the blade and mounted it onto his back. He supposed a walk into town would take a half hour, where he could pick up some things. There was something he felt like he couldn't remember, but if it was important, he would find out eventually anyway.
 
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An aching in his left hand, and some unusual noises, gradually made Dominic stir. He still felt groggy, and somewhat reluctant to get up; but as he heard something metallic clink, curiosity finally got the better of him. He opened his eyes, and found himself staring at a ceiling he had never seen before.

He frowned, and sat up slowly, a few images of the technology convention flashing through his mind. He cringed, and put his right hand to his head; he was extraordinarily dizzy, and he sat staring at nothing for a minute, trying to stop the room from spinning around. When he felt like it had subsided, he lowered his hand, and started looking around the room a little, perplexed. This place didn't look anything like the convention hall; there were all sorts of unusual machines and tables arranged throughout the room, and a huge rendition of the periodic table of the elements was painted across the walls. He looked down, and realized that he himself was sitting on some kind of table, which apparently he had been laying on for some time; he noticed his back was rather uncomfortable. More so, however, was his left hand, and he pulled it in front of him to look at it, wondering what had caused the aching.

He froze, a wrenched feeling seizing his gut. His pointer, middle, and ring fingers had somehow been transformed from flesh and blood into cold metal digits, in different sizes than his original ones. His eyes widened as he gaped at them, horrified, and he turned his hand over, trying to fathom what possibly could have merited this. “Holy shit, what the hell happened to my hand!?” he finally managed to get out frantically. He tried to wiggle his fingers, and found that he couldn't even move them.

He glanced up in a different direction than before, and realized he was not alone. A young man with blue hair, a mechanical arm of his own, and two mechanical legs was standing nearby. Dominic squinted at him curiously; he seemed vaguely familiar, and he thought he recalled seeing him at the convention for a moment. If he was remembering correctly, this man might have said something about wanting to help him...

Then, it came back to him in a flash: that laughing face, that smug demeanor, the drop of a glove on the ground....Jeremy had been there, at the convention, and he had started more trouble than he ever should have had the gall to. Dominic remembered the scene now...blades flying everywhere, parrying, grappling....The sharp steel that had pierced through him, blinding him with pain, in the same place that was now itself made of metal. He scowled down murderously at his new fingers again, wanting to tighten them into a fist; he couldn't believe that bastard had stooped so low. And especially considering he had managed to walk away unscathed. If he, Dominic, had known they were going to play unfairly, he could've easily drawn his revolver and shot him. If he ever saw him again...he shook his head, his whole body shaking with anger. There would be no question in his mind.

His thoughts returned to the abject present, and the mechanical digits glaring up at him, taunting his inability to have kept them from being attached there. He had never had any part of his body replaced, and the idea of it made him extremely uneasy; he'd always admired machines, but having them attached to his body?....What would he do now? Have people staring at him all the time, thinking he was a failure? Thinking he didn't know how to take care of himself? He was already getting enough of that lately; surely he didn't need any extra notoriety. He wasn't a war hero, or an obsessive scientist; no one would assume he'd gotten the attachments for any other reason than an embarrassing mistake made on his part. How could this have happened?....And, to make matters worse, he'd left his left glove on the floor of the convention center, so until he could get a new one, he wouldn't be able to conceal it from anyone he encountered either. And he didn't even want to think about how this might affect his ability to use his guns...

He noticed a tightly-drawn red ribbon around his wrist, and glanced quickly back up at the other man standing there. This man hadn't killed him yet, even though he could have; or demanded the repayment of any loans, though he would need to check his coat pockets in private later just to make sure everything was still there. No, if this man had indeed been the one to help him, he must have had some other motivation; after many of the things Dominic had seen in his life, he doubted anyone would have done it out of sheer kindness. He wasn't going to get any answers with reticence, however; so, trying to control his agitation for the time being, and utilizing his most innocuous tone possible, he finally asked him. “W-what happened at the convention? Did you bring me here?” He hesitated, then held up the hand with the mechanical fingers. “Did...did you do this?” He nodded slightly to indicate the rest of the room. “And where are we, anyway?”
 
Cuclainn

Oblige leaped another large chasm, soaring through the air before a controlled landing on the other side. It's bipedal legs continued to move ahead, on auto pilot towards Estes. The trip was uneventful and bleak at most, but soon, Oblige began to slow down its pace as it approached the town. Cuclainn managed to track the car down and guided her mech around the outskirts of the town towards the lone house. A few of the villagers got spooked by the large machine but before anything could be done, Cuclainn was off. She had to admit that Skylar's house was rather isolated and hard to get to on foot, but Oblige managed easily and before long, settled into a kneel by the car. Time to see how the man was doing

Cuclainn left her pole axe inside the cockpit of Oblige and dropped to the ground. Walking armed for battle wasnt the best friendly message. With a raised fist, she knocked at the door of the house.

{Inquire} Hello? Mr Toshio? Have you completed the procedure? This is Cuclainn Ainsworth from the Convention and Dr Aspel's shop.

​
 
Julius:
Julius stood at his counter, hard at work on the new blueprints. Three of his hands sketched on the paper, drawing 3-D and orthographic views simulateously. The fourth held the sketchbook in front of him so he could merely glance up and see everything in it clearly.

Already there were several rolls of blueprints next to him, neatly tied to keep from unfurling. These were all nonlethal uses of the technology he had gleaned from Skylar. What he was working on now was another design, this one intended for placement in the palm of the hand.

He finished sketching it and dated it before rolling it up and tying it. Pulling out another blueprint sheet, he started work on a design that could be added to his own mechanical arms. These would be lethal though.

Working from his knowledge of them already, he knew he could fit several air compression chambers in them. Though they were less bulky than typical mechanical arms, there was more room in them from his micromechanics.

The idea was fairly simple and utilizing the ventilation slots and the armor plating of the arms, the air flow would be easy enough that he could use them repetitvely without worry.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alistere:

Had someone come into his room, it would be hard to believe that the man curling up on the bed in such restful sleep would be the 23 year old assassin known as the Sky Scythe, called for by name across the world. Alistere was curled up on he bed in his clothes, legs pulled up slightly and his arms curled slightly in front of his face. His chest rose and fell in a dreamless sleep and there was a smile on his lips.

He looked so innocent; how could anyone think he was a cold-blooded killer?

His eyes drifted lazily open as the afternoon sun peeked through the window. He sighed and sat up, removing his belts to they weren't so stiff against his waist and the bed. Yawning, he blinked his eyes a few times as he pulled out his new treasure and Bloodscythe and laid them parallel.

Looking at them together, he could definitely tell they were similar. He would even go so far as to say they were twins if it weren't for the color. He started his search for the hallmarks of his blade that he knew so well. The focus gem slots were in the exact same spot and like Bloodscythe, a name was engraved along the blade.

Picking up the black blade, Alistere turned it so he could read it. The letters spelled, 'Voidsliver.' Above that, closer to the hilt were the letters Y S, what Alistere thought were the initials of the bladesmith. The same letters were on Bloodscythe. Even if it weren't a twin it was a brother.

He lifted it in the hand he most often used Bloodscythe in. It weighed the same and the balance was impeccable, just like Bloodscythe. Switching hands, he took Bloodscythe in it's normal hand. It was...right.

Right. That was the best way to describe it. Like the two blades were meant for each other. He laid them back down and started to put Voidslive back in it's scabbard when he noticed something odd about it's pommel. It was like a claw, open as if awaiting something.

Alistere looked at it closer. There were grooves inside, flecked with a gem that he could not identify. It definitely wasn't mean for a gemstone. That was the only thing that made the two blades different. "Interesting..." he said aloud.

He put the blades back in their scabbards and stood up, taking the chance to stretch out. He yawned again and scratched his head. "What's there to do now. I really don't want to go right into another job..." He had at least three days to get to Renlak- that was Undeground policy. With his wings it would only take him a day; that meant he had two days he could kill.

He buckled his swords to his waist- he didnt want to be caught unarmed in case a fight broke out- and went back to the tavern part. This was a fairly busy waypoint, along a main trade and travel road. Even now in midafternoon there were a good 50-60 people in there and it would only grow come evening.

"Hey, it's Emerald Flash." A voice called out to him from the bar. It was the same bartender from last night, remembering him for the drink he bought. "Hey man. That had to have been the best one I've had yet. Think you can top it?" Alistere answered with a smile.

"I dunno but I can sure try." the bartender laughed. While the bartender took care of the drink, Alistere took the chance to look at all the faces in the bar. There were quite a few people his age in there, several younger and some older. He rubbed his hands together at the thought of getting with the people his age.

The sound of a glass hitting the table behind him alerted him to his drink being done. Reaching into his coin pouch at his belt, he pulled out a few coins and switched the drink for them, downing it in a few gulps. "Even better. I'll have to remember this place next time I'm out here."

He left the class on the counter and walked into the throng of patrons, his arms wrapping around a young female elf about the age of 19 and a younger human male about 17. Leading them over to a corner table, he slid in, bringing them both with him.

"Now aren't you two just absolutely beautiful," he said, smiling at each one in turn. The female blushed and giggled slightly but the boy only looked away slightly embarrassed. "Come on now. I'm perfectly serious. You both look amazing. I'm surprised you're not here with someone already."

He pushed the table forward slightly so he could bring his legs up and cross them atop it. "What's wrong? This is a good time. Have a drink." He nudged the boy, who blushed. He pulled out a sack of bani and tossed it on the table.

"Hey bartender! Next round's on me! And let's get something nice for these two." "Sure thing!" the bartender answered just before a chorus of thanks echoed through the room.

And so the afternoon continued and slowly Alistere got to know the pair he'd hooked up with, both starting to feel more comfortable with him.
 
It took about an hour, but Wilheim reached the outskirts of Estes. Locating a mech heading upwards, he concluded that this is where Dominic was gonna get better. The fact that it was isolated and hard to make by foot did not deter Wilheim in the slightest. His four legs were able to traverse up towards the house. He saw the car as well as the mech known as Noblesse Oblige.

Paying no mind now, he parked Feniks next to the other mech, and came out of the cockpit. Wilheim still carried his revolver, but he did not really need to use it.

As he walked into the house, he saw Cuclainn there. "Well, you were not kidding when you said your mech was fast." After that lighthearted bit, he got serious, "So, where's the Doc?"
 
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