AWKWARD ZOMBIE

Maloch was having a busy day.

He'd found some podunk little town in the middle of nowhere, crawling with a decent amount of barbarous worms. He'd murdered the lot of them before noon. A few of the speedier ones had managed to crawl away and beg for help from the neighbors, which had only brought more cows to the slaughter. Maloch had a decent pile of corpses lying in the middle of the village square now.

He sheathed his knife, ending the incessant screaming of the thousand souls trapped within, and relaxed. He didn't like walking so much, which was why today was working out perfectly. There were survivors this time. Witnesses. And they knew exactly where he would be. Before long idiots who called themselves heroes would be flocking to this useless little village. It was just a matter of time.

[but...jade's already up? whatever, just imagine that the last thing that happened was my post.]



"Wh..." Jade blinked, rubbing his eyes when he reached the kitchen, seeing not two, but just one Captain Forte. "How did you...get in here?!" He nearly shouted, pointing at the man making breakfast, his arm twitching along with his right eyelid.

The sunlight hit Martin's face. For a second he believed he was still in the forest and yesterday had been a bad dream. That fantasy dissapated when he heard snoring coming from above him. "Great....still in prison" Thought Martin. He tried to sit up in his bunk when a sharp pain ran up his back. "Note to self: prison beds are not comfortable." He got up off his bunk to see what a nice morning it was....for everyone who wasn't in prison. He looked towards the cell Garrett was in. He was still sleeping, clutching his sitar like a security blanket. "...Weird."

[was that a bit to much jailbreaking/whatever it's called? If so I'm sorry about it.]

[Sorry, I was just filling in the blanks between Forté buying ingredients and Jade waking up. NOW HE IS UP.]

"I'm making breakfast!" Forté replied, "You told me the address and where you hid your spare key back in my past self's past and your present self's future! I have already experienced a nice breakfast here with the lot of us, so now it's my turn again to make said breakfast from my past in this present! The others will be here shortly."

"Th...the others?" Jade asked, his eyes narrowing. Despite the intrusion, he had to admit it smelled good...especially considering he hardly ate anything since yesterday, and he'd lost his appetite after getting out of the casino. Come to think of it, once he thought about it again, Galiena seemed to seize up from it, and she didn't seem the type to be overcome with fear of just about anything. Was she that attatched to the casino, or was it something else? I'd have to wager it was something else, he concluded once he thought it over. Fire, maybe? Jade shrugged to himself. Not much use thinking about it, and he didn't want to ruin his appetite thinking about the smell of charred flesh.
He leaned against the door frame, crossing his legs.

There was a knock on the door. Without even so much as a motion towards Jade, Forté opened the door to reveal none other than himself.

"I'm right on time!" Chef Forté said, "I see I have found our jetpack!"

"Oh yes!" responded Coming-Through-the-Door Forté, "It was still near the casino, as expected. My, that smells delicious!"

"Even better the second time, as you will eventually find out!" laughed Chef Forté, "Now get inside before Lieutenant Simmons, Galiena and our other guests get here!"

Eris had slept on top of the covers this time. He hadn't done that for almost a year. He woke up and immediately banished the sleepiness with a Blank as he rose from the bed and got dressed. He opened the door and walked past the breakfast cart, making his way down to the dining area.

He'd already spoken with the spymaster last night about the incident, and he'd left to do what he did best: gather information and pull strings. As Eris walked into the room he made his way over to a large board with posters on it. Specifically, Wanted posters. And right there in the center, newly posted was one with Hel.



Eris nodded approvingly. By getting the approval of Derix, he'd made this a personal matter of the Ten Great Houses. These posters were all over the city and in only a few days would be plastered everywhere the Ten Great Houses influence could be felt. Hel would find herself hunted throughout the land by people seeking to gain such tantalizing prizes, especially from House Renault. They had information on nearly anyone and anything remotely connected to the underworld, and were willing to trade some of it in exchange for bigger fish. And Hel was one of the biggest fish of them all now.

[~I don't think Hel actually revealed her name to Eris]

((She didn't, but she's been around the city long enough for other people to know her name, which lets the innkeeper/spymaster find out. Eris didn't know her name until he saw the poster with her picture.))

[~Fair enough]

[I'm dying]
______________

Roil slumped forward and groaned, increasing his pace. This random jerk might be deaf or something and may or may not have even heard him. He'd probably be gone before Roil even got there. He'd just fly over there if it weren't for the heat exhaustion, not that it would matter soon. The way he was sweating, he'd be able to swim there in a matter of minutes.

...
A matter of minutes later, Roil stepped underneath the canopy of the village, entering the first bit of shade he'd seen since he arrived in this horrible... frickin'... Ugh. He was too exhausted to think of something angry to think, let alone say to the man standing no more than ten yards in front of him.

Roil looked the man right in the eyes (or so he thought) and pointed his megaphone at him menacingly as he took another step forward and went limp, falling onto his own face. Furious at the fact that this total stranger had seen him make a fool of himself, he used the rest of his energy to roll onto his back and whimper a tiny tantrum in the back of his throat. He then proceeded to just lay there. Defeated. By nothing, pretty much. Goddammit.

...well, then. Pellendro quirked an eyebrow and almost chuckled out of bemused satisfaction. It did not last long, though. It - or he, as seemed to be - certainly was either a stranger or else woefully ill-equipped for a foray into this area. More likely both, among other things. The authoritative tone from earlier carried apparently little weight so he dismissed his earlier suspicions of some sort of enforcement personnel for the moment. His attention, presently, was drawn again to the curious device clutched in the stranger's hand. It matched nothing that he remembered or hearing of or encountering and, given the manner in which it had been brandished, evidently possessed some practical function. His mind was already tracing various hypothetical scenarios as he held an open palm towards it, immediately "seeing" the surrounding air shift in response.

Envelop was the phrase's approximate translation, followed by the air's quickened attraction to the device; gathering, condensing, strengthening, until it had solidified sufficiently to tug the object from its owner's grip and begin to carry it towards Pellendro's outstretched hand.

Roil groggily cocked his head backward toward the white-haired man, furious (not that anyone would've been able to tell).

"Hey. Don't you touch... my wind. And my other stuff."

With great effort, Roil rolled his arm over himself toward his new acquaintance and the megaphone casually flipped out of the man's hand and back into Roil's, as though it was enjoying itself.
Gathering bits of his strength back, partially from having been lying down and partially due to the slightly less scalding environment the shade created, Roil rolled himself back onto his stomach. A light breeze formed beneath him and gently lifted him back to his feet. He took a moment to steady himself and breathe a bit before examining the man.
He looked... regal. Roil respected anyone who could pull of duds that fancy. And he looked unarmed, which Roil also agreed with. Although that cane could have a knife in it. Or be a bomb. Roil had seen stranger.

"Alright, man. Here's the deal." Roil spoke, tempering his temper for the moment. "You touched my megaphone. That doesn't fly with me. And you also used my wind. That chafes me pretty well, too. I didn't even know there was another wind Reaper, and that really pisses me off, but..." The irritation returned to Roil's voice. "I don't know where I am and if you felt like killing me you could probably just walk away and let the sun do it for you. So how about I give you the benefit of the doubt and not starting throwing shots 'til I have any more of a reason to, yeah?"

Pellendro jerked a little in surprise as the object left his mental grasp. This time he did chuckle, his previous irritation dissipating entirely. 'My wind'. Amusing. Precisely how strong a claim the stranger lay to that domain was yet to be determined - what mattered now is that it be determined, along with so many other things. His mind was nearly abuzz with the possibilities. Wind had clearly aided him in regaining his feet but not, it seemed, in regaining his possession. And he spoke of "Reaper"; as expected the term was entirely foreign to him but it was evident that it referred to some kind of relatively powerful being. What if there were more? What abilities might they command that beings of his realm did not? Therefore what stood before him was nothing less than the gateway to learning of one, more likely at least two avenues of new and untested power.

He could not have been more pleased. It seemed this trip was becoming worthwhile after all. He smiled easily. "There will be little need for that, I think." A vessel of water at the stranger's feet brought forth by a few gestures, followed by several more and the command Expel heat, Other. "You will presently, I believe, find yourself somewhat more comfortable. As for your 'deal', I believe an alternative will suit us better. You surely have questions, traveler - for traveler you plainly are. There is much I would learn of you as well, when you have recovered sufficiently for proper conversation. This much I ask." He settled into a more relaxed stance. "What say you?"

"Oh thank god."

Roil breathed a sigh of relief and dropped to his knees, picking up and dumping the first of the water jars on himself. It was so satisfyingly cold. Normally, wet clothes would have driven him into a Rage, but as his temperature dropped, he felt his energy begin to return and that was enough to overcome all his usual anger.

"So..." Roil spoke between hefty gulps of water. "Nobody ever told me there were more Reapers outside of the whole... Mangaton... area. Wait..." Roil looked up at the stranger. "Does that mean your own set of Keys? That doesn't make any sense."
Roil rose nimbly back to his feet, aided by the wind. He took a moment to expel the water from his clothes with an outward pulse of air from his body. As he did, the remaining jars at his feet rose into the air and began to gravitate slowly around him, held up by small vortexes.

"I'm just gonna... keep these for awhile. Just in case. This place is a hellhole. In fact, we should go somewhere else."