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Marigold	It isn't long before Echidna and her two friends lead Roy's army along narrow winding trails to a shaded rocky glen. Fog glides overhead, not quite having time to fall. Water trickles down a shallow rock-face like a half-inch-deep, twenty-foot-wide waterfall, condensing into a rocky brook when it hits the ground. There's still just enough unfamiliar greenery (did Lycia have ferns?) to graze horses on, and just enough un-marshy ground to pitch tents.      The mood is weary, but it's a sweet kind of ache. Everyone's alive. It's hard going, but there's a path forward.      Marcus tries to light a fire, but can't get it going in the humidity. Lugh tries to offer his magical help, but that roguish man in the naval jacket- Geese, he might have called himself- settles him down. "You've never heard of fatwood?" He shaves a few ribbons from a sweet-smelling chunk of heartwood, and it catches on the kindling like lighter fluid. "Whoa... hey, Chad!"      Chad's too busy poking a carnivorous sundew, growing in the little islands of dirt that barely cling to the sluice-wetted rock. "Never seen a plant that moves before." "All plants move! And hey, you might be hurting it..." Lilina murmurs, but still cranes her neck to get a better look. Despite her station, she's fitting right in with the orphans.      "How did a ruffian like you know Klein, anyway?" Clarine pouts at Dieck, who's washing his shallow wounds while sitting halfway out of his tent. (Lucius offered magical aid, and Dieck politely declined- "Save it for who needs it, Father.")      "It's better if you don't know." "What do you mean?! He's my brother! I deserve to know!" "... It's not my crime to confess to. How's that?" "Huh?? If you're implying Klein would ever do anything dishonorable--" "He's fighting against us now, isn't he?" ". . . I don't know why he's doing that. I'm sorry." "Yeah. Me too."      Over by the horses, Rutger and Sue chat with newcomers Sin and Fir, which really means that Fir does most of the talking, even as the most downcast among them. "... so I thought I'd just come by to visit my father, and then I find out the nice people I was pitching in to help are the ones hurting the islanders. If anything's happened to him, then it's sort of like it's my fault, right?" "Maybe." "Haha, you're not supposed to agree with me..." "Well, you're still alive. You can make up for your mistakes."      Rutger is their usual quiet self, but from a little ways away, Lance and Alen murmur about them not-unkindly while Merlinus uses the young knights as porters. "I suppose there weren't many women in our army when she joined. That could be why she thought she had to..." "No, she was already binding her chest when we met. Safety while traveling alone?" "Like she needs it. Maybe she had a master who wouldn't take female students..."
Marigold	Shanna sits on the far side of her pegasus in the grass, knees drawn up to her chest and fingers picking apart a fern. Crossing blades with her sister really shook her up.      Merlinus had tried to be the one to brew tea, then Roy insisted on the drudge work, and finally Echidna's refined companion trumped it by insisting on the privilege of the host. The man- Elffin, he'd said- lives up to his name. Gracile and beautiful, not especially tall, he looks a little like Lucius and a lot like Alucard. He brews something smooth, cinnamon-floral tasting, and a little sweet even before the sugar. His hands are confident even with his eyes mostly-closed.      Echidna sits by the now-crackling fire on a log, sharpening her main axe; smaller throwing axes dot her belt, with a shortsword worn at the hip too. She's a listener (or an asker) more than a talker: "So how come you're all together?" "Why do you hate Bern so much anyway?" "I thought Otherworlders were taller. I guess that ponytail lady's up there." "That Cecilia lady, you really think you can trust her?"      Eventually, though, Elffin nudges her. "You were going to ask them about Larum, weren't you?" "Oh... yeah. Working myself up to it, I guess." She heaves a breath, and suddenly she looks very tired.      As much of a personal juggernaut as Echidna is, it can't be ignored that the nucleus of her little rebellion is just three people. There are palpable empty spaces around this fire. You've picked the losing side.
Alucard	Alucard does look a lot like Elffin. It's weird, he keeps sneaking glances at the other Prettiest Man On The Planet. Mostly because he's never had a doppelganger before. Elffin has more color to him, though. Barely. The half-vampire, while not cheerful, was helpful in getting tents set up for the wounded, passing out bright blue healing potions from the stock he keeps in his coat. While he rarely seems to smile, he is nothing but kind and gentle to the wounded. It's only when he's finally waved off and told to go rest that he does, retreating to his own tent. Currently, Alucard is seated in front of his tent, his sharp hearing strong enough to catch conversations around the camp. He can hone in if he wants, but for the moment, he seems to be content. His coat, already mended, is folded up, sitting on the ground next to him. Currently, he is darning his shirt, sewing up the holes put in it by the far too large arrows. Shirtless, he's about what is to be expected. Slim and wiry, made of compact and swift muscle. Pale as a ghost except for the massive, angry red scar crossing his chest at a diagonal. As wide as a man's hand, it doesn't seem to cause him any discomfort. The thing to keep in mind is that he was recently shot with an arrow that could fell a horse. Wounded from the latest skirmish litter the camp. He has no visible wound from the arrow that hit him. Given his natural toughness and literally unholy regeneration... What could scar him like that?
Desire Stars	. . . I don't know why he's doing that. I'm sorry. Yeah. Me too.     Ace frowns thoughtfully, looking between Clarine and Dieck with his hands in the pockets of his DGP activewear, visible as outlines in his hooded jacket.     He'd taken Lucius' offer of help, himself--albeit only after Neon had received the same. Between the two of them, she'd come out of the last fight much worse for wear.     "Whatever his reasons," says Ace, "They weren't so strongly felt that he'd ignore his ties to you, or to Dieck."     "If we see him again, and I think it's likely we will--we should use that. At the moment, we need all the allies we can get. Securing another *and* taking one away from Bern would be ideal. Is there anything either of you can think of that'd help us do that?"     Neon, meanwhile, carefully carries a tray of tea over to Shanna. She's not a tall woman--but her shadow seems to stretch long over the fern.     "It smells good, doesn't it?" she says, for want of something else to say. Neon smiles weakly at Shanna, setting the tray down and taking a seat across from her. "Do you mind if I join you?"
Aidan Proudpick	Despite the hatred for his 'forbidden loves', Aidan does keep up his guard duty. Seeing as Clarine is just as likely to faint and fall off the deck of a ship as she is to get hurt. BUT, now that this isn't just Roy's army, he can go with his earlier plan. BEER. Every rebel army, even if they are just three people strong, loves beer. White wisps of air drift from Aidan's lips, continously pushing up an 8 gallon barrel of beer upward. His fingers wave over the barrel slowly, knitting the air around it, keeping it aloft until he is is fully within the rocky glen. He finds a good place to set it with a triumphant smile, producing a tap. "I brought some good strong stuff. Nothing like that bottled beer." He is still a miner's son at heart. Aidan thrusts a tin mug of beer into Alucard's hands as he moves around, "Come on, move up to the fire!" The choice between Echidna and Clarine is hard, as Echidna embodies everything he wants to be. Strong, courageous, willing to face down an entire army with only three people. He sits across from Clarine outside of the tent, handing a tin mug over to Dieck. "Huh?? If you're implying Klein would ever do anything dishonorable--" "Tell me a bit more about him. He sounds like a good person, and there ain't a good person who can't be convinced to do what's right." Ace steps in, making it sound more calculated, more about strategy. A wince on the squirrel's face, but he nods along to mirror the question of help.
Angela	Shajo and Tennant have been following along with the army, largely conversing with themselves about how close that last fight was--particularly when ballista like shots started skewering people, but Tennant is ever as optimistic as ever and Shajo, recently married is in a blissful state that has expanded well beyond his usual mood. "Gosh, moving plants reminds me of The Happening, like, just plants deciding that mankind was an enemy--it honestly felt like what an Escaped Abnormality might do, Shajo--" "NO!" Nonon declares boldly, just making it to catch up with the army's rear having been sent to support the other Agents. "We are married and multiversal now, so you shall call him... MR. NONON in the stylings of the people beyond our world!" "I think I could just still call him Shajo--" Tennant begins. "Nah," Shajo says warmly. "Mr. Nonon it is. Glad you could make it, Nonon." Nonon grins broadly at Shajo and lifts him up over her shoulders and carries him piggy back style as she looks for a particular friend, smile broadening as she sees her. ''I thought Otherworlders were taller.'' "YOOOO ECHIDNA!!!" She bellows, offering Echidna a fist to bump. "So freakin' thrilled to see you! Shajo said I'd think you kicked ass! You look like you kick ass, GA HA HA! Just leave some for the rest of us, arright? GA HA HA! Or maybe we can make it a competition!" Shajo rests his chin on the top of Nonon's head, a dreamy look in his eyes. He laughs dopily.
Odette Raskins	After a long day of battle and a long night of treatment, Odette finally gets a chance to rest. Sure, it's kind of gross and humid, but the shade helps, and... She's never actually slept on grass before, has she? There were those naps on the simulated stuff, but to really lie down on the real thing is a novel experience. She can feel all the roughness of dirt, the dampness of the grass, the little tickle of the ants... After shrieking and leaping straight to her feet from a starting position flat on her back, Odette's more awake and self-conscious about making noise than she'd like to be. She coughs lightly into her hand, avoiding eye contact with anyone for a little while until she finally musters up enough courage to join Echidna at the fire. She doesn't speak up right away at first, though, and she avoids eye contact for a while out of both bashfulness and also being  content to just watch her sharpening that axe like she's never seen anyone do that before. It's actually kind of hypnotic, and she doesn't snap out of it until Echidna actually starts asking questions. "O-oh! Uh. H-hi, Miss Echidna. Um. It's a bit of a long story, but we met a while back when Bern was... Um. Already starting trouble with everyone else." Odette looks over at wherever she last saw Lucius as she says that, absentmindedly clutching her bag a bit tighter before turning back to Echidna. "N.. Not that I hate Bern or anything! I just hate the... Er. All the killing and warfare. T-too stressful..." She shivers lightly at recalling having to square off against those soldiers, however brief it was. "... I-I'm taller than some of the people back home! Just... N-not everyone here." That takes her mind off terrifying things, at least, even if she sounds incredulous about it and not-so-subtly tries to stand a little more on her toes so she might look an inch or two taller.
Trudy Grimm	"All plants move, the girl is right," Grimnir agrees with a gesture of his pipe, "They like to take their time." The old man gestures, "These ones-- heh. You have to move a bit quicker then usual to do what they want, you see?" Lifting his pipe, he puffs on it thoughtfully with his one eye closed, "I often wonder if it's stressful for them to move that fast. Or perhaps they find it thrilling. Like a snail at the prow of a longboat."     While the old man spends his time with the teens, Trudy herself sits near the fire with Echida and the core crew. Her ghastly retinue is nowhere to be seen. The Grimoire rests in her lap, her hands sitting on top of it. Framed by her hands is the cup of tea she was eventually given, her eyes resting on the rich dark drink. > "So how come you're all together?"     "Many of us from the Other World are comrades already, from prior adventures," the witch taps a finger on the side of her teacup but doesn't quite pick it up, "Though each is different in their own ways in our reasonings, our goal here has thus far been the same." > "Why do you hate Bern so much anyway?"     "'Hate', perhaps, is too strong of a word," Trudy hums thoughtfully, "I would say instead that I feel King Zephiel's ambitions would be disastrous for everyone else in this land. I'm no fan of carefree slaughter, despite what Miss Khosa might think, ahaha~." > "I thought Otherworlders were taller--"     "Ahaha-- that depends, you know? The Black Knight may be more what you were expecting. Perhaps you'll get to meet him soon." > "That Cecilia lady, you really think you can trust her?"     "I would say the Lady Cecilia has done right by us time and again," Trudy says with a laugh. Leaning forward in her seat, she rests her chin on the back of her hand, eyes staying on Echidna's face, "Was there perhaps a reason you feel otherwise?"
Flamel Parsons	"So how come you're all together?"     "Alliances of convenience are sort of a tradition when you're in the business of regime change!" Flamel chatters brightly. "And if Bern is going to recruit and subvert so many regional powers, it only makes sense to band ours together as much as we can. Otherwise, well, it's not that I don't trust the Lycian league et all, but I sure don't trust our union of convenience to survive that kind of subversion while we're on opposite ends of a continent!" He sips his tea happily, making sure to thank Elffin.     "Why do you hate Bern so much anyway?"     "National-level ultraviolence is a psychohazard that has haunted humanity for a long time. Think of it as a kind of mental malaria, an infection that's hounded humanity as one of its most hostile foes for a long time." Flamel explains, trying to use terms that will probably be recognized. Do they know what malaria is in this world? Well, they've probably got, like... 'miasma'. And it's probably real.     "I thought Otherworlders were taller."     "You know, somehow, eliteness is correlated with nutritional health -- and subsequently, height and overall growth! Couldn't tell you how or why, but it sure did change the Psychonauts' opinion on nutrition programs. Turns out the Gastronauts have been right all this time. About that one and only specific thing." He makes an exaggeratedly bitter face. "And we're the ones big enough to admit that, unlike all the times they've refused to admit we're right."     "That Cecilia lady, you really think you can trust her?"     "Oh, well," Flamel gestures with half a cup of tea, grinning. "Can you trust anyone in realpolitik? Let's say we, or at least *I*, trust her as much as you trust us. Which is, a lot, because of material help and a trustworthy nature, but not completely! Except for Roy and Lilina, you should expect them to trust her all the way. And for very good reason!" All of these things are true, and yet some of them contradict each other, and Flamel doesn't reconcile them at all, preferring to sip the tea and enjoy his Sittin' Log, as his anachronistic brain thinks it should probably be referred to as by a lightly-racist concept he has of something called "people of the earth".
Khosa	Khosa is up for a hike, complete with all her gear. She'll help people if they need the help; some people were hurt, after all, and she's willing to play pack animal for the ones that were. She's not used to this kind of terrain, but it's not too bad, though she has to duck branches a few times through the narrower paths - sometimes being tall is a downside. She stops when she sees the waterfall. This is the first time Khosa has seen a waterfall of any size in her life, and she just *looks* at it for several long minutes, without speaking to anyone else (but, also, trying not to be in the way). It's awe-inspiring to her in a way she can't quite put into words; she wants to commit art, and she'll have to dig that out. (She did bring it, for the ship, but ended up not doing any on board because of the boat's rocking.) Eventually, though, she turns away with it with a pleased expression on her face. "Some plants really move," is Khosa's response to Chad. "Like, fast. This kind looks like it'll eat small bugs; I bet it'll fold up and knock them into the middle." She's half right, but that's because she's less familiar with sundews, and more familiar with some other kinds of carnivorous plants. She hikes over to the fire afterwards, plopping down nearby. Khosa fights unarmed, so she has no weapons to sharpen and immediately feels like she needs to be doing something with her hands. She digs around in the pack she brought with her and pulls out a straight-ish horn about as long as her outstretched hand, thumb to little finger. She starts to work at it with a small tool, scratching a pattern into the outside of it. "Can't help it if I'm big!" She laughs after that; Khosa sounds more amused than anything else when Echidna brings up she thought that Otherworlders were taller, and she's the one up there. "It changes where you go, anyway, and who you count. Any of us are tall compared to a halfling. Even the kids." They're not that much 'kids' at this point. She does make an attempt at answering the question: "I came to this group late," Khosa says, "so I wouldn't say I hate Bern, but I've heard about some of the things they've done, and I hate *that*. The people, I mostly don't know any more than, say, you know my people. I figured I'd learn on the way. You, though - I get rebellions." She grins again, faintly showing teeth. "Or maybe I just like taking hard fights." Khosa also reaches up to give Nonon a fistbump in greeting since it seems to be the going thing. She goes back to her scratching afterwards, though not before giving Trudy a bit of a *look* when she invokes her name.
Lilian Rook	Foggy, humid, lukewarm and frequently shrouded in mist; even on this relatively clear day, Lilian has finally been forced to update her wardrobe from Lycian travel fare to something that won't cling to her unpleasantly over the journey. She'd taken Echidna for simply One Of Those when she first saw her, but the wisdom of short sleeves, tall boots, and what she inexpertly takes to be felted wool and linen on leather, had gradually sunk in over the time Lilian has actually had to exist here.     On short-enough notice, she's secured herself a breathable shift dress, short-sleeved top, skirt wrap, and broached shawl, to deflect the practicality of simply bringing her normal rain coat. Cut short enough to see half her comfy leather boots, and to leave most of her arms unimpeded while keeping her hair from sticking to her shoulders, Lilian has thrown on a couple of the beautiful little chains and tchotchkies she never gets to wear, and feels pretty good about herself gliding around the camp while looking dangerously close to some sort of Pagan Alchemist.     Her armour would have been perfectly comfortable, but she doesn't want to seem to advertise that.     "--udnamentally, the injury is one that relaxes the muscles responsible for shaping the throat, which seems insurmountable until you understand the rehabilitative motion. Try opening your mouth, keeping your tongue down, and just flicking the side of your throat with your finger, at the larynx, like you're tuning a drum. It makes a sound like any other instrument, right? So it's actually very simple to know when you're doing it correctly, when--"     After the Mulan-ification of Rutger aboard the boat, Lilian seems to have taken it upon herself to own Clarine even more brutally, and sits with Rutger at each stop, discussing how to 'toggle it on and off', as it were, and going on lengthy but sedately pased rambles about her Cosmetic Opinions and the Utility of Attire while walking on the road. It's hard to tell if she's sweating that one particular Code, whether she just wants to see Rutger clean up well enough to kill Clarine on the spot, or whether she honestly enjoys the opportunity to talk to a woman who lies anywhere between 'self-shaped beautiful demigoddess' and 'exclusively wears hoodies and bomber jackets' about this kind of thing.     Speaking of which, Lilian sends Petra to fetch her portion from Elffin, because she doesn't want to get up and carry things.     '... It's not my crime to confess to. How's that?'     "Then I suppose I'll assume it's his, and have him confess it the next time we meet."     'Haha, you're not supposed to agree with me...'     "Don't ask questions you won't like answered. I don't know if I'd agree that it's your fault, but more importantly, you should be more concerned with that deeply exploitable eagerness of yours, shouldn't you?"     'So how come you're all together?'     "They get bored and latch on to people easily."     'Why do you hate Bern so much anyway?'     "I don't."     'That Cecilia lady, you really think you can trust her?'     "She has the same qualifications to be trusted as we have with you. Frankly more."     'I thought Otherworlders were taller. I guess that ponytail lady's up there.'     "What? I'm already a little taller than average . . . What precisely were you expecting?"
Dark Horses	It has been a considerable amount of time since Michinaga last helped Roy and his group. And with being out of the picture for so long, he's without information. He doesn't like that. It makes figuring out who he needs to crush a lot more complicated.      Luckily, he knows a guy who's easy enough to talk to, and he just so happens to be here, though he's currently a bit tied up in conversation.      "Tch"      Rather than butting in the middle of their talk, he simply waits until there's an awkward silence, before quietly walking up towards the two.      "You look like shit. What happened?"      He makes note of Dieck's injuries before his gaze turns to Clarine. Understanding how to talk to Dieck is easy, he's gotten to know his wavelength a bit. But this is a girl... He's never met her before, and his brow visibly furrows in frustration as he thinks of what to say before he just simply blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind to break the silence.      "What??? You need something???"
Blemishine	"Shanna. Neon."     So says a familiar, carefully gentle voice from behind the pegasus rider. Who else but Blemishine, aka Maria, aka on-foot cavalry? Ostensibly having been in the background during the absolute mess of before, Duke Nord, Klein, Thea, and all - well, she's a little worse for wear herself...     ...but not nearly quite as much as these two. She has a small, not-quite-reaching-her-eyes smile on her face.     Rather than tea - or perhaps, as a compliment to it - she's brought along a few rations. Bread made to survive long journeys. Maybe a little stiff, but that's why it's all the better to have a drink accompanying it.     "Room for a third? Ahaha. I was hoping you wouldn't mind a little extra company."     She, of course, politely remains standing until she gets the okay. It hardly takes a genius to know that she definitely has what happened to Shanna - really, maybe both of them - on her mind, of course.
Petra Soroka	Everyone's alive! *And* everyone is at least somewhat wounded by a singular collective attack from Klein, including Petra! This is, frankly, an ideal situation to her, though it does little to ease the actual sharp pain of having grazed, bruised, and likely fractured ribs, and a secondary laceration on her forearm from flinching into the followthrough. Still, being wounded-- by a named and relevant character, no less!-- improves Petra's mood more than it dampens it by forcing her into tender movements and acutely unpleasant pain when marching, to the point that she's basically over being betrayed, again, by the late Duke.     At Geese's deftly-made fire, Petra relaxes for a short time to readjust her mind into the tone of camping rather than fleeing from a lost battle, and then immediately totters over to Lilian first. Petra's own medical kit and training provided the practically *cute* gauze wrap visible in the rust-brown stained gash in her bodice, and she points this out to Lilian with what can only be pride.     "Hey, remember how you said I never broke any bones usually, even though I do dumb dangerous shit all the time? Well, I think *this*-- ghhhk--" Her emphasis and gesturing towards her ribs strains the wound, forcing her into a coughing fit that she dutifully aims away from Lilian. "Is fractured! So there we go."     The implication that this is a good thing to happen to specifically her is left hanging, completely unexplained. She acts like this is a weekly challenge quest that she was given and accomplished in the nick of time, rather than a wound to freak out about. Fucking weirdo. She happily absorbs absolutely nothing about whatever Lilian's instructions to Rutger might mean about Rutger, and wanders off to fetch Lilian tea from the beautiful bishounen.     Next up is support conversations with Clarine, whose sibling relationship became challenging, and thus interesting to Petra. Petra also feels a little sympathetically responsible for her, like a naively lost soul, for exposing her to the unbelievable mistake she made of somehow assuming Rutger was a man. She considers offering Dieck some more germ-theory-educated first aid as an excuse to sidle into the conversational range, but thinking about wrapping gauze around a man's chest gets her totally distracted, in a way entirely separate from actually performing the action of doing it herself, which repulses her. Instead, she has a futuristic calorically-dense invention of the future, perfect for grueling marches and energy boosts after battle: a granola bar.     One is offered to Clarine. It has chocolate chips, which she in particular may have seen before. "Yo. Are you, like, alright, Lady Clarine? That was fucked up. To learn about your brother, I mean."
Petra Soroka	Petra chews on her granola bar for a few seconds, contemplating that and then clarifying after she swallows. "Not that he was fighting against us, I mean. Are you upset about *that*? Would you have done any different if, like, you didn't coincidentally end up hooking into the Army with everyone? If you'd followed him when he first left, or something? I meant more like, with the whole star-cr-- with the fact that you're on opposite sides and can't talk about it with him. I guess that's probably got to suck." "So how come you're all together?"     "Oh, I'm mostly here because Lilian is. The rest of these losers just show up when they're told." "Why do you hate Bern so much anyway?"     "I don't think I do? I mean, I've barely talked to anyone from it. I guess it's fucked up that they keep killing people, but, you know, it's kind of just a lot of people killing each other the moment that they have an excuse to. So really, it's hard to blame anyone in specific because all of humanity is just selfish and rotted like that. I'm on this side because Lilian's here." "I thought Otherworlders were taller. I guess that ponytail lady's up there."     "I'm average height! I'm normal sized! You're just-- you *know* you're tall, right?" "... I-I'm taller than some of the people back home! Just... N-not everyone here."     Petra is sitting down in the grass at this point, knees drawn up to her chest, but even from her low vantage point, the way she squints dubiously at Odette when she stretches on her toes feels like 'looking down'. "What the fuck? You're tiny. You're fucking miniscule. Aren't you from space? Spinal decompression raises average height, it doesn't decrease it. You're even tinier. *I* was an inch or so taller when-- when I lived on Io."
Lilian Rook	'Hey, remember how you said I never broke any bones usually, even though I do dumb dangerous shit all the time?'     Lilian glances down at Petra's midsection when she hears the noise of tooth-strangled agony. The corner of her lip twitches, and she says, "Didn't you get those broken ribs by doing something heroic, with the objective of helping me? Funny how that works."     'I meant more like, with the whole star-cr--'     Lilian stares with burning intensity at the back of Petra's head.
Desire Stars	So how come you're all together? Why do you hate Bern so much anyway?     "You can think of me, him," says Ace, indicating Michinaga with a nod of his head, "And Neon over there as mercenaries. We're not paid directly by Roy or Guinivere, but our employer has an interest in keeping Zephiel from getting what he wants." Then, calculated to trip both Michinaga and Petra's PvP flags:     "It's really just me that's strictly necessary."     "I can't speak for Neon or him," says Ace. "But I don't hate Bern or its people especially. It's just in my interests to stop them." That Cecilia lady, you really think you can trust her?     Ace smirks. "Lately, we've paid pretty steeply for trusting people we have every reason to. What would she do that the past five or six heads of state couldn't?" Room for a third? Ahaha. I was hoping you wouldn't mind a little extra company.     "Maria!" Neon seems surprised to see her, blinking owlishly. "Well, I don't mind if Shanna doesn't."
Alucard	Aidan rolls by with beer, and Alucard appreciates beer. He accepts the tin cup with a very slight smile and nod, and sits it aside for the moment, finishing the sewing of his shirt. As little as he is bothered by the climate, people don't need to stare at his ghastly scar. He finishes up in short order, and pulls the garment over his head, frowning slightly at the barest sense of pulling from the sew-job. He reaches for the cup and hesitates for a moment, considering -not- going to the fire. In the end, he stands, leaving his coat and sword behind, and moves to find an empty spot around the fire. He sits gracefully and finally sips the beer. He still doesn't talk to anybody, because that's just how he is.
Marigold	Echidna and Dieck do feel practically immortal, but besides them, most here aren't as blessed as Alucard. Father Lucius made his rounds for critical injuries before, but now he circles again for less pressing ones, and lays his hand on Alucard's shoulder from the side.      "Pardon," says the other Prettiest Man On The Planet thirty-year reigning champion with a glance down at the scar, "but you wouldn't conceal your pain from me, would you? Dieck has already given me enough grief."      Rutger sagely absorbs Lilian's voice training advice, under the guise of an old injury, in relative quiet. They nod along, occasionally testing out what they've learned under their breath. Later by the horses, she might get the satisfaction of hearing a quiet "Oh, Father Sky and Mother Earth..." chant-practiced in a notably less rough timbre.      "Beer, huh? Don't get that much out here. Give me some, it's been years." "Huh. He didn't even water it." Elffin is the only one to politely decline a drink. And fortunately or unfortunately, Clarine doesn't seem to 'hate' Aidan as much as regard him as an object of exotic fascination; she quite eagerly scoots over to give him room.      Shanna shyly waves around her pegasus at Neon, but doesn't approach. Dieck gives them the classic up-nod of respect. "Klein was a good guy, when I knew him." "Hey!!" "Still decent enough not to shoot us, yeah. Who knows if that'll last." "It will! I don't know why you have such a bad opinion of him." "I like him. I just know people can change." "... Hmph."      When it comes to 'how to persuade him', they both look thoughtful, but after a (surprisingly bonding) glance to each other, Clarine's the first to talk. "Well... he's fair-minded and just. I'm sure he only attacked us because he thought we were the evildoers. But he cares a lot about 'duty', too. It'll be hard to get him to act against Etruria. I'm not sure how I feel about all this business myself."      "You look like shit. What happened?"      Dieck grins at Michinaga around his tin mug and pats a scar-to-be. "I look great, babyface. Jealous?" Clarine covers her mouth with one hand, and then when she's addressed, with both. "Well I never! Dieck, where did you scrape up this uncouth scoundrel?" "She's messed up about her brother. Don't sweat it. Hey, you dress kinda like that Ace guy; you two together?"      "Are you, like, alright, Lady Clarine?"      Clarine looks at Petra with surprise, then eats a granola bar as delicately as anyone ever has, regaining her strength. "Ah... thank you, Petra. You're a more refined soul than I thought. Truly this is a marvelous hardtack."      Though she's dry-eyed, she manages a little sniffle. "It's just... I've looked up to Klein my whole life. He was the first person to treat me with respect. I don't know what I'd do without him. And so to have *weapons* pointed at him- for him to point weapons at us!- it's just... if he were hurt, I think I really would collapse. You know what that's like, don't you?"      "Etruria's better off without folks like Nord." "That's true..." "Think we can get him to see it that way? Like he's really doing Etruria a favor?" "I hope so." Dieck stretches, arms over his head, and groans as the topic concludes. "Well, there you go. ... What really bugs me is, he called himself 'provisional general'. Etruria's only supposed to have three. Wonder if Douglas is finally retiring..."
Marigold	Nonon's approach brightens Echidna just about immediately. "Hey! So you're the reason Shajo acted like he knew me." Fist-bump, then shake, then squeeze hard enough that it sounds like leather creaking. She smiles up at Shajo on Nonon's shoulders too: "And who's this tall guy? Finally some more normal people." More than menace, she emanates an aura of being everyone's Cool Aunt. On competition: "Sure, sure, but to make it fair, we've gotta trade weapons halfway. What do you got? Show me."      Offhandedly, to Lilian, Trudy, Khosa and Odette: "Everybody says people from the Western Isles are tall. I always thought we were normal, and the rest of Elibe's short. I dunno how I feel about the Otherworld agreeing with them." "The blood of the berserker Durban, who wielded Armads. Or so they say." "I think it's just because we eat right, Elffin." "Hm!" Petra snags her eye for a second too: "Huh? Of course I know I'm tall. I'm a specimen. But you don't even come up to Geese's neck, right?"      When she returns to the fire, she instinctively lays her arm around Odette- who has evidently settled right into one of those 'empty spaces' in the group's arrangement- and then nearly immediately thinks better of that kind of intimacy, and withdraws her arm. "Well, 'bored and latched' or not, you guys all do have an energy. Mostly." "An energy?" says Roy, leaning around from her other side. "Yeah. Like me and my guys. I think you'll make it through together."      Chad and Lilina both sponge up Grimnir and Khosa's words. "Maybe it's exciting, but I think it's mean to tease them. If they do eat bugs, then we're just snatching food out of its mouth, right?" "So? You win some, you lose some." "Chad..." "Alright, alright."      Shanna startles into lifting her head when Blemishine approaches her, but she doesn't object. At first she looks baffled; then guilty, when it's clear she's being comforted. "I'm sorry... Lady Blemishine, Miss Neon. I didn't really think Thea would fight me. I know it's the law that she had to, but still, it's... I could have died. She could have died. She's such an idiot." She takes a piece of hardtack, but she's slow to nibble on it; not much appetite. "And I almost got Ms. Neon killed because I wasn't ready to fight back..."      Echidna, by the fire, chews on some crusty bread while regarding Flamel with utter neutrality. "I can't disagree with anything you've said," crunch munch, "especially about banding together and all," chomp, "but has anybody ever told you that you're sort of a 'funny little guy'?" "Hey!" says Lugh, swooping in from his water-ferrying duties. "Mr. Parsons is really cool, you know! He's taught me lots of stuff, and he's a kind of healer, and--" "Sure. Funny little guys can be cool."      As time goes on, though, and the light dims as the sun passes past the valley, and Echidna runs out of distractions, her mood slips too. There's still 'Larum' to talk about, whoever that is.
Marigold	Echidna puts a little venison on the flat of her axe and holds it over the fire to cook it. Her eyes linger on it while it sizzles.      "You can probably figure that we're not doing too great," she starts off, unable to look at anyone in particular. Geese looks off to the side, arms crossed. Elffin droops slightly. "Don't get me wrong. We've got eyes and ears and lunks in lots of places. But as soon as we kill a guy, Lord Arcard and his cronies just buy another merc from the mainland. Hard to make it 'not worth their trouble' when the mines are worth so much."      "We keep wanting to hit Mount Eburacum- 'the mine of death', they call it, where all the islanders they round up get sent to disappear. Or hit Jutes, the capital." "You mean Juteaux?" "Jutes, Juteaux, I don't care, Elffin." Elffin smiles. "But it never goes right. Something happens, or we don't quite have the men, or they catch our source out. So we just get worn down. Until you."      She pulls the meat back from the fire and watches it cool, steam rising up to mingle with the fog.      "... I'll keep this short. I'm going to raid Mount Eburacum and free the people they've enslaved. And if you're serious about all this, you're gonna help me. Because Duke Nord sent our best spy there, Larum, and she'll be dead inside a month if we don't. And... she's like a little sister to me."      Deep, deep sigh, to go with the deep, deep ache. Her men don't comment on it, but they seem roughed up by the loss too. "So before I depend on you, I've gotta ask. Etruria's your best and only ally against Bern. What if this isn't some Bernish conspiracy? What if this is just Etruria's war effort, working like it should? Are you really gonna cripple them just because it's the 'right thing to do'? You'd do that for us? For me?"
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan will accept this lack of hate. He can deal with Lady Clarine most of the time. But the look from her, in contrast to the outburst about forbidden loves back on the boat, makes Aidan hesitate. The feeling that he has gotten himself into a trap that he is too far into the escape briefly rolls through his brain. "I like him. I just know people can change." A wistful grin on Aidan's face, he points a finger at Clarine while holding his own cup. "That doesn't mean for the worse. People change for the better too. Just because he fought against us once doesn't mean he's bad. He's a good person, you are a good person, I'm sure he'll join our side." Petra asks to Clarine's health. Aidan makes sure not to look up at her, trying to just look straight ahead. He doesn't know what would happen if he actually LOOKED at her after Everhood. His feelings regarding that revelation have been tough. Near the end of her offer of concillation to Clarine, Aidan pulls his mug up to his mouth and drains the rest of the beer in a single steady gulp before setting it back down next to him. "Focuuuus," he mutters to himself. When Clarine responds, Aidan digs his claws into his palm, drawing a small amount of blood before letting them go, putting himself back on track. "Yea, Klein. Yea, I think I know what's that's like. Don't worry, Lady Clarine, this whole business doesn't have to end with a kingdom falling." He flashes a smile, sure that any sort of rebellion will go swimmingly. "You are an excellent soldier, Lady Clarine. Thank you for your healing in every battle." I'm going to raid Mount Eburacum and free the people they've enslaved. Tail twitch. Ear perk. "Of course! I'll run out first if I have to!" And then, a slow frown, a look at Clarine next to him, before speaking back up. "Yea. Someone has to stop them. Especially if they are enslaving people. If we have to do both at once, then, that's just what we'll do. And we'll win." He nods. Easy as that.
Lilian Rook	'Huh. He didn't even water it.'     "Petra. I know there's at least one bottle left over from the trip. Wake Qetra up already." It's wine not beer but it's about the Principle.     'I like him. I just know people can change.'     "Why does that only ever mean 'they get worse'." Lilian sighs. "'People change' never means that they improved."     'I'm sure he only attacked us because he thought we were the evildoers. But he cares a lot about 'duty', too. It'll be hard to get him to act against Etruria.'     "That appears to be a theme." Lilian says, staring Meaningfully:tm: at Fir. "It's shocking how easy it seems to be for everyone to believe that this ragtag band of borderline refugees is evil. And by shocking, I of course mean utterly predictable." Lilian says, batting away a sidelock for emphasis. "People on this continent understand 'duty' astonishingly well; it has both its upsides and drawbacks. He'll stay loyal to Etruria, perhaps even after it no longer resembles the 'Etruria' he remembers, so it's in our best interests to investigate what is happening with the left and right hand of the nation already."     Lilian tries to put on a little smug, evil emphasis, to try and cover up a little of how obvious she's being when she says, "At worst, if it comes to it, then I'll make certain to leave him an inch or two from death before these savages can get to him. Then you can catch up while you nurse him back to health."     'Etruria's only supposed to have three. Wonder if Douglas is finally retiring...'     "I wouldn't bet on it." Lilian says. "That alone is ungodly suspicious."     'Sure, sure, but to make it fair, we've gotta trade weapons halfway. What do you got? Show me.'     Lilian bores her gaze into the bottom of her cup.     'I dunno how I feel about the Otherworld agreeing with them.'     "W-Well, it depends on where you go. As you can tell, we happen to have both ends of the scale assembled here. I happen to know someone head and shoulders over you, and someone who barely comes past your waist. Perhaps you could consider a high degree of variability?" says Lilian. "Otherworlders are terribly skilled at being inconsistent, you see."     'Well, 'bored and latched' or not, you guys all do have an energy. Mostly.'     That renders her quiet, for a little while. "I suppose we do." comes haltingly. "Mostly. So I'll hope that 'mostly' falls the right way, on who makes it through."     Lilian looks at the meat sizzling on the axe-flat, and dares to ask "Is that sanitary?"     'But as soon as we kill a guy, Lord Arcard and his cronies just buy another merc from the mainland. Hard to make it 'not worth their trouble' when the mines are worth so much.'     Lilian casts her gaze around two thirds of the Elite group in total, and says "I'd tell you that many amongst our number could learn to understand that, but I don't think they often get as far as you have. I'll gladly be your miraculous mate-breaker if that makes anything of our blind stumbling into this country under the worst possible circumstances. It isn't every day that an opportunity like this stumbles into a solved situation; it reflects well on you for seizing it."
Lilian Rook	'Because Duke Nord sent our best spy there, Larum, and she'll be dead inside a month if we don't. And... she's like a little sister to me.'     "For someone challenging our resolve to do this for the right reasons, you're laying it on a little thick, aren't you?" Lilian says, drily.     'What if this is just Etruria's war effort, working like it should? Are you really gonna cripple them just because it's the 'right thing to do'? You'd do that for us? For me?'     "No." Lilian doesn't even hesitate to think. "I like you, but not more than victory. Code dictates that the many outweigh the few, in situations like these, and that we not expend ourselves on people who are unnecessary to our objectives."     Lilian puts down her empty cup, and folds her hands in her lap. "But it also dictates that the righteous outweigh the unjust. The calibre of a life is weighed alongside its quantity, when interests come into conflict. And it's my judgement that if this is Etruria's method of making war on Bern, it is hopelessly doomed to collapse in the near future."     "Assuming it is legitimate, then I wouldn't consider the current leadership to be made up of anyone necessary to the country. So if we walk into an honest to god coup d'état, then we happily arrive at the confluence of both the fewest and least righteous to sacrifice for the greater good. Does that satisfy you?"
Angela	''Who's this tall guy?'' "Mr. Nonon apparently," Shajo grins. ''We've gotta trade weapons halfway.'' Nonon's eyes widen as if she thinks this is the most amazing idea that anyone has ever had. And she hefts up her EGO Gear--the Gold Rush--and shows it off to Echidna. It looks kind of like a golden Thanos Gauntlet but like three times the size even relative to Nonon's fist. There's a lighter glove on Nonon's other fist but it's the big gauntlet that seems to be the big weapon. "It's lighter than it looks, Geheh..." Nonon grins mischeviously. "Oh but...hm... It's a kind of psychic armament too, so ya best prepare yourself for it trying to influence what you're doin'! But I bet you can handle it no prob with ease!" Angela isn't here to say that this is against company policy or anything. Nonon is offered SOMEONE ELSE'S Fist and she immediately gives Khosa's fist a bump too. "Heey! Good to see ya again--hey maybe you could set up a tour of your homeworld sometime, I bet the company would appreciate Agents taking a look even if I mostly want to see what your home's like!" "Yeah unfortunately we don't have vacation days left anymore so we have to make it work." Shajo adds. ''He still doesn't talk to anybody because that's just how he is.'' Nonon says, "Sec," And she turns, approaches Alucard, grabs him in a headlock, and aims to drag him over to Echidna. "Where were we? OH YEAH! We can def trade weapons, what do you use? Shajo didn't say!" Nonon beams. ''funny little guy'' "He is a funny little guy," Shajo, hypocritically, says of Flamel in total agreement. ''Are you really gonna cripple them just because it's the right thing to do?'' "Ehmm..." Shajo remembers he's the Captain here and thus in charge right now, especially with no overseeing Sephirah present. "It's really up to Roy an' the Dame Commander, 'cause we're here to help them--that's who we're assigned to work for, we don't really have an ideological foot in this though gotta say, these are great people and we're happy to work with them on that basis alone!" He thinks it over more, though, but before he can really guess at the nature of Roy's army... Tennant approaches. "Well that's a very good question! I can't speak for them, but we've been betrayed by a lot of the allies we were ''supposed'' to have. Maybe we should just be focusing on the allies we can make instead. Either way, they're not the sort of people to scorched earth through this conflict. Whatever they choose to do, they'll try to do right by you. And by Erturia, if they can. I mean, if the pattern holds they're secretly working for Bern but even if it's more complicated than that... war crimes are war crimes haha..." Tennant laughs, but there's a moment their expression actually gets a bit...uncharacteristically haunted. It's gone again in a flash though, as if it was never there. "And no way I'm gonna letcha sister die!" Nonon begins but then Lilian saps the wind out of her sails before reinvigorating it by bringing up the other side of the ''Code''. "HELL YEAH!! DAME COMMANDER ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT TO DO...! Ga ha ha! You can trust in her, Echidna! She's led us through impossible fights again and again, we're in good hands with her as Commander!"
Desire Stars	'People change' never means that they improved.     "It could," Neon says almost defensively on behalf of someone who shot her in the back. Hey, you dress kinda like that Ace guy; you two together?     Ace's smile, and his bright brown eyes, have all the kindling mischief of a trickster spirit.     "He's a fan of mine," says the Star of the Star of the Stars. "I think he's after my autograph, but he won't admit it." Well, there you go. ... What really bugs me is, he called himself 'provisional general'.     Ace's expression shifts thoughtful once more, and he lets his gaze wander to the fire without fully turning to face it. *Will that make him easier or more difficult to convince? I could see it going either way, if duty is that important to him.*     After a moment's thought, he returns his attention to Clarine and Dieck. "His soldiers seemed to look up to him a lot," Ace notes. "Maybe that means he'd have followers to bring along, if we can get him to see joining us as what's best for Etruria." And I almost got Ms. Neon killed because I wasn't ready to fight back...     "Hey, don't say that," says Neon, gently placing a hand on Shanna's shoulder. "I had my armor to protect me. And it wasn't your sister that shot me, anyway."     She exhales sharply. "The next time we see him, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. He could have hit *you,*" she says, her brow knitted in a mix of concern and anger. "Even if your sister could forgive that, I couldn't."     "The law exists to protect people, but it can't replace them. One way or another, I think we can reach Thea and help her see that. That... all over this world, there are hundreds, thousands, of Theas and Shannas that are hurt by what Bern is doing. That it isn't going to get any better unless someone stops it. Even if she's the only person out of that entire company who joins us, I could be happy with that, if it meant even one little, tiny piece of warmth between people gets kept alive." What if this is just Etruria's war effort, working like it should? Are you really gonna cripple them just because it's the 'right thing to do'?      "No," says Ace. "Not because it's 'the right thing to do.' Not 'for you,' either. I'd do it because you've lasted this long in a stalemate against them with minimal support, and in spite of their intelligence getting the better of you." He might be doing it for the other reasons, too. But people tend to find pragmatic reasons easier to believe.
Alucard	Alucard starts just a little at the hand on his shoulder. His senses are keen, but sometimes he just gets lost in himself and the world falls away to a pin point. He looks up at Lucius, yet another agonizingly pretty man. This world is full of them, it seems. It takes him a moment to parse his words, but he shakes his head. "Ah. No. This...is an old scar. It takes a great deal of injury to leave a wound that will last more than a few minutes, and even more to leave a scar of any kind." He pauses again. "I was... in torpor for a year before this healed enough to merely leave this reminder. It does not pain me." Physically. "Your concern is appreciated." Back to the issues at hand. The dhampir listens, sipping his bear in an almost mechanical way. This likely would continue, except he's ambushed by a rogue Nonon. His 'Are You Threatening Me!?' senses did not fire, because Nonon is not here to (physically) harm him. Thusly, he's thrown into a surprise headlock and bodily dragged closer to Echidna. Could he break free? In a multitude of ways. Why doesn't he? Perhaps he's thankful on some level to be included. Still, when he's released, he does a good job of looking imperiously indignant, his poor tin cup of beer upended and lost along the way. "Was that truly necessary?" He harumphs and brushes spilled beer from his pants, regarding Echidna with his inhuman golden eyes. "The things I have already done because they are the right thing to do are heavy. I will do this thing, it is the right thing to do, and it will weigh nothing to me."
Khosa	Khosa trusts the kids (as she thinks of them, despite being only in her mid-twenties) to figure out what's right and what's wrong with the plant. She's not going to force them one way or the other - but she is pleased with Lilina's decision nonetheless. "I try not to hurt the plants," she agrees. "Sure, there's a lot here, and everyone needs wood - I'll use wood, fine. And some plants will eat people too, and those you kill, with axe and fire. But for no reason? I'd rather see the green." A bit wistful, perhaps. Khosa works while she talks. She appears to be sketching, for lack of a better word, an outline onto the horn; it's going to be a carving, but right now it's just a faint image, more of a reminder of how she felt so she can finish it properly. She doesn't precisely hide what she's 'drawing', but she doesn't show it off either. The tool she uses is a small hook-like point; probably the closest similarity for any of the people from a modern world who haven't seen horn-carving tools before is a dental pick, though not quite the same size and shape. Hers is a bone handle with a small chip of iron or steel as the tip. "I eat a lot of meat, so maybe that makes a difference," Khosa says. Though she adds, "But I don't know how much you gotta compete over it," from the perspective of someone who is used to being either the tallest person in a room or close to it (half-giants don't count, as they frequently do not fit in the room). "The height just happened. At least the muscles took work." "Plus, you can't *all* be descended from Durban." Khosa's brow furrows. "Probably," she adds, afterwards. "Unless he was *really* prolific. How long ago was that, anyway?" She really needs a refresher course in local history, apparently. She does laugh at the competition. "Hey, hey, if there's a match like that, count me in. I can keep up," Khosa says, rolling her neck as if to loosen it up. "I don't usually use a weapon, but I used to use something like an axe, so I can probably manage. And if you *really* want I'll go get one, so we're even!" Nonon asks for something she'd already been considering, anyway. "You might not have to wait *too* long for that," she says. "YOu want to come? Consider yourself invited. Vacation days might have to be your problem, though, I don't think it counts as going to work." Khosa starts to speak in response to Echidna, but Lilian beats her to it. She doesn't interrupt - but she does speak up as soon as she's done. "Sure it's sanitary," is what she says first, "the fire burns off the bad stuff. Assuming the meat's not rotten, anyway." But then she adds, "The Dame Commander doesn't entirely speak for me in that. I don't like slavers," Khosa says, and spits to one side, away from the fire. "Personal issue. I'll help you for that, whether anyone else does or not. If it goes to shit they can say I ran off on my own to do it, because I would, or that you hired some foreign mercenary." Khosa looks at Lilian, not quite challenging - she *did* say that the righteous outweigh the unjust, so it's not completely hopeless. More hopeful that she sees it in what Khosa thinks of as the right way. "But I hope they'd come along too."
Odette Raskins	"What the fuck? You're tiny. You're fucking miniscule. Aren't you from space? Spinal decompression raises average height, it doesn't decrease it. You're even tinier. *I* was an inch or so taller when-- when I lived on Io." "How do you know so m...? I-I'm not that tiny! I just... C-carried a lot of stuff on the colony! A-and carrying people's really rough on the spine, especially if you gotta do it day in and day out...!" Odette whines lightly at Petra as she visibly digs into her mind for more reasons to explain why she might be shorter than... Almost everyone here? Probably almost everyone here. Heck, are the kids even taller than her? She'll just have to never stand too close to any of them ever again. Easy enough, even if- "Everybody says people from the Western Isles are tall. I always thought we were normal, and the rest of Elibe's short." "E-everyone here's just... Super massive on average. That's all." Odette declares with an indignant little huff, still self-conscious about her height as ever between Petra's earlier observation and Echidna and Elffin merely existing in close proximity to her. "Besides, if eating did do anything for height, then I should be huge, too..." Still pouting a little, ODette rolls an unformed thought around her puffed up cheeks right up until Echidna puts her arm around her. Is that something people from this world do? Or is it just a Western Isles thing? IT's not as though she minds it or anything, but why's she even thinking this hard about it, anyway? Odette's breathing hitches for a second, she straightens up, and then she tilts towards Echidna at the same moment she withdraws her arm. That bit of ill timing has her straightening right back up, sitting almost stock still while trying not to draw attention to whatever that was. Staring really hard at the fire while talking is definitely the best way to play it cool. "Th-that's the goal, yep! Um. Everyone making it through, I mean. I might not be as... Everything as everyone else, but I'm confident in my medical training!" She chimes in with a quick pat of her duffel bag, finally breaking into a more confident smile before long. "That goes for you and the others, too. Just try not to land somewhere we can't get to you, and you'll be okay!" "I'm going to raid Mount Eburacum and free the people they've enslaved . . . Are you really gonna cripple them just because it's the 'right thing to do'?" "I'm in." Odette states with uncharacteristic bluntness without even waiting for Echidna to finish shortly after. Apaprently, people in deadly mines is kind of a sensitive spot for her! Once she realizes she said that so quickly seconds later, though, her usual jitters return, and Odette resumes listening as Echidna explains the situation with Larum and the potential effect helping her could have on the war effort. "If there's people being sent into a mine just to die, then of course I gotta... I have to do something about that. I'm an EMT, not a warlord or spy or whatever, and rescuing dying people is my specialty! Er. A-as a job to do, you know?" She states/asks, only realizing that this world doesn't have EMTs a moment later before continuing. "A field... Healer? B-esides, if saving them makes it harder for the war to keep going, then..." A pause, a shrug, and then an awkward chuckle intended to be reassuring rather than just nervous. "I-I guess I'd still be doing my job, then? Even if it could be hurting our fight against Bern, it's..." Odette pauses, scrunching her hands into her skirt and closing her eyes. She takes a moment to steady her thoughts, recalling something important she heard a long time ago. "'If I have medicine and another kid is hurt, I should help them.'" She murmurs, visibly settling down before reopening her eyes with a relieved nod at Lilian, Ace, and Khosa. "If just doing.. Yeah, if just freeing some slaves is enough to cripple Etruria's war effort, then... Whatever they could do probably wasn't going to help us much, anyway."
Trudy Grimm	> "What if this isn't some Bernish conspiracy? What if this is just Etruria's war effort, working like it should? Are you really gonna cripple them just because it's the 'right thing to do'? You'd do that for us? For me?"     As Trudy listens to Echidna's story and her plea, the witch closes her eyes. At last, she lifts up her teacup to drink, nodding now and then to indicate she isn't just ignoring the warrior as she talks about her agent and friend's capture. When it comes time to answer her question, though, the witch is initially silent.     Instead, she drains her cup and then spills what remains into her other hand. The remnant of tea drains away, leaving only the sodden flakes of tea leaves on her palm. Her eyes open at last, examining the pattern the detritus has left, letting out a thoughtful noise.     "I know where my loyalties lie, and so I shall continue forward." Casually, Trudy sets her cup down, then rubs her hands together to disperse those tea leaves from her palm, scattering them into the campfire, "I do owe Lilian my life, so hers is the judgement I will stand beside."     "That I happen to agree that any who would condone the existence of a slave camp should be put to the sword is merely a happy coincidence~."     Near the sundew, Grimnir chuckles. He clamps his pipe in his teeth and rummages in the sleeves of his traveler's cloak, "You see, plants get a great deal of their nutrition from the soil they grow in. These places have poor soil. The water washes it all downstream. So the plants eat bugs to make up the difference-- Ah. Here we go." A little leather pouch is produced and from inside it, a good-sized piece of deer jerky. With two fingers, he plucks off a tiny piece, about the same size as one of the ants, and drops it into the sundew. The gel-covered spines curl inward around it, "Meats are also good for them. So to make up for the stress while you kids got to know it, let's give it a little treat."     After demonstrating, he holds the dried meat out towards Chad and Lilina to try for themselves, "Go on. It doesn't have teeth, of course it won't bite."
Dark Horses	"Pfft. Jealous? Yeah right. Why the hell is she hounding you over her brother anyway? She looks rich, and you don't look like the kinda guy that'd-"      Michinaga trails off, partially because he's beginning to disassociate when Petra showed up, but also because he's remembering his conversation with Shanna. She said something about Dieck having served nobility at one point of his life. And with the way Clarine is acting, he's pretty sure she's upper class.      Maybe he should bring that up to see if it's related to why he's being nagged, but if it is related, well... It feels like if it hasn't been brought up already, it might be information that Dieck wants hidden actually, given that Shanna's comrades tried to shush her. He'll ask in private later.      "Uncouth? I just asked you a question? Pffft. Whatever, if you just want to complain, that makes it easier for me."      Easier to what, exactly? Well, to tune her out. If he's going to be treated like low class garbage because he isn't traditionally sociable, so be it.      "Huh? Together? With Ace? Hell no!"      Michinaga's voice raises a bit, scowling even harder than before.      "If I could I'd be wiping that smirk of his off his face right now."
Blemishine	Well, I don't mind if Shanna doesn't.     "Thaa~aaank you. Just tell me if I'm being a third wheel, okay? Ahaha." It sounds like the crossroad point between serious and a joke. She finds herself a seat on the ground, setting her own tray in front of her and taking a piece of hardtack for herself.     I didn't really think Thea would fight me. I know it's the law that she had to, but still, it's... I could have died. She could have died.     And I almost got Ms. Neon killed because I wasn't ready to fight back...     She doesn't quite start digging in herself, either. "...It's not an easy thing, having to fight a sibling. For any reason. Every time I've seen it. Sometimes, it's because one or the other - occasionally even both - are being an idiot. Sometimes, they have reasons they won't relent on. Like duty. But personally, I think it would've been strange if you /were/ able to fight back that easily."     She takes a small bite now, though, her silence letting her listen to Neon get her word in. "Sometimes, you have to go around the 'law', if it means protecting what matters. I don't know the full situation, that Miss Thea and Sir Klein are in. But I agree; I don't feel like it's impossible to make them see reason. Especially if Lady Clarine's endless amount of praise for her brother is anything to go off of."     "That isn't to say it'll be easy, though. Now that you've seen her once, will you be up for crossing spears with her the next time you see her, you think?"
Flamel Parsons	"A *spy*?" Flamel instantly perks up. "Wow, if it's a fellow espionage worker, I'm definitely biased in favor of making this happen! Not that rescuing people from 'the mine of death' isn't something I want to do myself, but there's definitely good reasons to push even further! We've been *badly* lacking on the espionage front." Flamel makes a sheepish gesture at himself, waving happily to Lugh! "That *is* right, I'm pretty cool! I do my job well, I think. But..."     He turns back to Echidna, tapping his cheek. "You know, it's just the facts, people with more 'skin in the game' are going to fight harder. You've been fighting mercs a lot, you know that better than I do! This isn't my home. I can't fight for it at full force. But I think helping the people whose home it is fight at their best, or fight at all, is the right way forward. We'll need to get Larum out of there, so she can make up the difference for my own efforts!"     "But..."     "Well, if this isn't some Bernish conspiracy, I honestly don't think I could believe it. If it's just Etruria's war effort working like this... I mean, they turned on us too! Not a very good ally if that's the case! They shot me with big guns!" He says this with a particular brightness that almost sounds resentful.     "But maybe Etruria has its own problems too. Bern isn't the source of all evil. But they've started things moving, geopolitically. There's a lot of motion, a lot of old status-quo changing." He finishes up his tea, and doesn't refill this time, just fiddling with the cup. "I think... if we move things the right way, we can cut out some of Etruria's problems -- yes, even violently! -- while we're in the middle of fighting Bern. It's worth it to try. It isn't right to put that sort of thing off for later, you know? Feels wrong... And historically, leaving this kind of hostile power in place during historical turmoil is just bad thinking!"
Petra Soroka	"I'm sure he only attacked us because he thought we were the evildoers."     Petra chews thoughtfully on her granola, the effort of philosophical consideration weighty enough on her expression to make her briefly reminiscent of a grazing goat. "Aren't we, kind of? I mean, if you think about evil as what's opposed to the dominant cultural opinion, instead of 'good and evil' in a, like, abstract sense separate from the current values of people on Earth, then it's true that we're the ones that more people obviously disagree with, right? Otherwise we wouldn't have these hordes of faceless fucking mercenary animals throwing themselves on our swords for whatever stupid bullshit they're told is the reason today. I'd rather be evil than one of them."     "Well, not that Klein's like that, obviously," Petra has to correct herself, not just for Clarine's sake, but because Klein is granted more moral complexity and personal worth due to having a name and relationship. "But we *are* kind of, like... directly in opposition to fulfilling anyone's normal idea of 'duty', so.... Maybe we need to-- to change what his idea of Etruria's enemy is?" "You're a more refined soul than I thought."     Petra has a particular weakness, easily targeted and exploited when praised by Clarine for providing her a snack. She's not as pathetically desperate to wag her tail at Clarine for a scrap of praise like she is with Lilian, but the little bit of recognition tangibly shifts her allegiances to make her incrementally more inclined with showing positivity to Clarine and being just a tiny bit more empathetic when considering her words. "W-well-- well, it's like hardtack, but it's-- well, it's called a granola bar, it's usually for, snacks for hiking and stuff, I've always got some on me. So it's no problem."
Petra Soroka	"And so to have *weapons* pointed at him- for him to point weapons at us!- it's just... if he were hurt, I think I really would collapse. You know what that's like, don't you?"     *Does* Petra know what that's like? As a social imperative, her answer must be yes, but she needs to do a little digging inside herself to see if she can model the feeling first. Not having siblings, her mind has to make the free association to come up with the next best thing. How would she feel if people pointed weapons at Lilian? That happens all the time, but it always makes Petra mad and aggressively defensive. Rita? Surely no one would ever do that to Rita, but if they hypothetically did, it'd just make Petra mad and aggressively defensive of her. Nika? The idea of that happening to Nika *again* makes Petra a little mad just imagining it, and she'd fight NAZCA alone if she had to. ... Val? That's....     Petra is clutching her head. After a few moments of thinking, she recovers, and fails to fulfil her social imperative. "Um... I think I'm kind of more of the, defending type? But... you put a stop to it before anyone could--" Petra remembers that she was impaled, and lightly touches her fingers to the Klein-inflicted wound on her ribs. "Before he got hurt. Which was, um, braver than collapsing."     More steadied for having stumbled her way past the question of having empathy for a girl, Petra nods sympathetically, letting Clarine sniffle indulgently. "Well, there's, not a time you'll have to figure it out. What you'd do without him, I mean. Like, my goal's more like protecting the people in the army instead of saving the world or anything, and that means not letting people important to you die either. Worst case, we just put him in a bag until the war's over, or something." "Well, 'bored and latched' or not, you guys all do have an energy. Mostly."     Petra considers the nature of her energy. A vast and dangerous question, the term is vague enough to imply only terrible things about Petra as a person, but importantly, it still means that she's interesting. "... I'm glad, to have an energy. I need more of an energy." "Petra. I know there's at least one bottle left over from the trip. Wake Qetra up already."     Clarine, sniffling or not, momentarily ceases to exist to Petra, as Lilian calls her to perform a task for her. More than just producing a bottle, Petra scampers over to Lilian and has a floating morphmetal table and seamlessly smooth wine glass formed from the Silver before even stopping to respond to the request. The Silver table functions as a mirror too, and leaning over it, Petra pokes at her altered reflection to get her attention and then be handed the bottle of wine. Wordlessly expectantly, Petra looks up at Lilian for confirmation that she should pour it-- into a cup made from what used to be her own blood-- before doing so.     This also provides a distraction long enough for Lilian to get through her own thoughts about helping Echnida's rebellion, avoiding the awkward declaration Petra would've made in agreement with her about it not being worth it. Instead, she carefully readjusts her thoughts to agree with Lilian, and gradually works her way to saying, "... Does Cecelia know about all the slavery?"
Angela	Nonon really wouldn't drag Alucard around if he really made an effort to resist--though, yes, he definitely could overpower her despite her size and musculature if he really felt like it. Nonon ISN'T there to physically harm him--indeed, she's trying to do him a favor. Shajo wasn't too disimilar from the vibe she gets from Alucard when she first met him. ''Was that really necessary?'' "Aww quit yer bellyaching," She retorts. "You've been begging for that since you've popped up on the Elite bands..." She grins at him. "Have a feeling your other buddies would have to do this from time to time too, eh? You can leave the castle but if you leave your heart there all the time, what good is it gonna do?" ''You might not have to wait too long for that.'' "You'd be surprised. Surveying new worlds is something L Corp has a pretty big interest in." Nonon admits. "Miss Angela's sending us out all the time just to see what's out there...!"
Marigold	Fir, who's already been chastised for her underthought and overenthused 'heroism', turns red and hastily looks away when Lilian stares at her. Rutger pats her on the shoulder reassuringly.      "If I could I'd be wiping that smirk of his off his face right now."      Dieck leans forward with a not-entirely-wholesome grin, sensing Michinaga's weakness. "'If you could', huh? I don't see anything stopping you. I'm startin' to think you two really are amicable." His eyebrows lift.      Clarine, who has not nearly as many advanced thoughts about morality as Petra, clutches the chest of her frilly outfit anxiously. "What do you mean, we're evil? I mean- obviously, we can't be! Or Klein would have defeated us. So there." But then she goes back to chewing on the granola bar, and makes an 'mm' noise like she's memorizing the name for her chefs.      "'The defending type'? Oh. You're a trainee knight," Clarine says, bobbing along. "If you really, actually swear it, as a knight, that you'll keep me and him both safe, then..." Claire opens her mouth to promise a great reward, realizes she's currently separated from her estate as a roving adventurer, shuts it, and finally says: "Well, then I'll owe you lots. And I'll make sure he'll be grateful too. Maybe I could even put in a good word with him for you." Huh?      "Will you be up for crossing spears with her next time, you think?"      "No," Shanna says, scrunching further into herself. "Which is dumb of me. Ilian mercenaries... have to fulfill their contracts. Even if it means fighting each other. Otherwise, nobody would pay for us, and the country would starve. I know that. She knows that. And it's so easy for her to follow that. So why can't I...?"      Her face scrunches tightly for a moment. Then she relaxes again, but looks no less miserable.      "I want to get her on my side somehow. Like you're saying, Neon. But how can I do that? What can I say? I'm the one in the wrong. I'm the one whose feelings get in the way. It's not..." Her pegasus bends down to touch the top of her head with its snout, and she laughs, but it sounds desolate and doesn't lift her at all. "Sorry. It's like Thea's always saying. I'm not cut out for this."      "It does not pain me." Physically.      Alucard hinting that he isn't human makes Lucius's eyes sweep him a little more closely, but this man of the cloth doesn't seem squeamish about that. Rather, it's the unspoken meanings he keys onto; Lucius sits in the grass next to Alucard, crosses his legs, and gets out a little book of meditations. "I see. Well. Tell me if it would ever lift your spirits to talk about it, Alucard. Otherwise, I plan to do nothing at all with my evening."      "We can def trade weapons, what do you use?"      "A cursed gauntlet, huh?" The word 'psychic' flies right over Echidna's head, but she gets the broader gist. Maybe-possibly joking: "I've always wanted to use a cursed weapon. I'll bite. I've got, let's see..." She lifts her single-bladed battleaxe; a heavy two-hander for anyone else, hand-and-a-half for her. "The head's silver, but the haft can break. So if I smash that or I'm indoors, I go for this-" patting a longsword that she wears like a shortsword on her hip- "and if it's someone at a distance I can't close, I've got a few of these." Gesture, broadly, at the throwing axes hung at her other side. "That's about it! I'm not as fancy as you."
Marigold	"Oh, wow..." "That's amazing! It doesn't look like it's eating it, though?" "Different things eat differently. Ever watched a spider--" "No! Of course not!" "Hahaha..." "Thank you, mister-- um, what was your name?" "Look, there's one up there at the top! I'm gonna feed it." "Chad, be careful! ... If they grow this well in bad soil, I bet I could make one huge at home." The kids are thoroughly enriched by the impromptu nature lesson, and by extension, their joy filters out to fill the whole camp a little. Children are like that.      "Is that sanitary?"      "What are you, a noblewoman?" Echidna says, in precisely the same tone as 'what are you, a cop?'. She nods approvingly at Khosa, again.      "you're laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"      "Am I?" Echidna, who should be in no mood to wink, lays on a little wink anyway. "Maybe I'm hoping I can pressure you into saying 'yes', and then it'll be too late to back out?" It's alarming how photogenically heroic she can seem while saying things like that.      And then just about everyone does say yes, and she's left to thoughtfully drink it in, chewing on her venison with her axe laid across her lap. Aidan's enthusiasm gets a little chortle and lopsided smile. Alucard's heaviness surprises her a little, with his youth, but she nods along. Lilian's reasoning-through gets an initial hesitation, and then an approving cluck of her tongue. By the time Ace is flattering her and Trudy and Khosa are enthusiastically throwing in with team 'kill slavers', she's grinning and bouncing her knee a little, and then Flamel tips her over into a surprisingly girlish laugh with his earnest spy enthusiasm.      "Ahahaha~" And for just a second, she seems like the perky woodsman or milkmaid she could've been in a happier life. "Yeah, yeah, that does satisfy me. You're a real good crowd. I'm happy to have you working for me!" Wink, again, this time more sincere.      "... And what about you?" She turns to Roy. "Gonna take the high road, even if it means Etruria might lose to Bern?" He stares into the fire for an uncharacteristically long pause. His hands ball up, fidgeting with nothing.      "... King Zephiel, from everything I've heard, seems to think that humanity is irredeemably corrupt. That it can never rise above its destructive impulses on its own, and needs to be reshaped in his image, or destroyed. I..." His face squirms with the unease that he might be reprimanded by a teacher. He knows that what he's saying isn't fitting of a pragmatic leader, but it bubbles over anyway. "I couldn't- as long as there's any hope at all, I couldn't stand to fight him in a way that proves him right."      "... You're a little bit dumb. You know that?" "Yeah." "Alright. I like that. As long as we're clear."
Lilian Rook	Lilian looks at Petra pleadingly offering her a drink of fine wine in a chalice made of her former demi-divine-mechanical blood, and rolls her eyes to silently communicate 'Obviously. What do you take me for? A peasant?' If she has any fear of drinking out of that glass, it is vastly less than her absolute confidence in Petra's total submission.     'If you could', huh? I don't see anything stopping you. I'm startin' to think you two really are amicable.'     "That or he knows that he's far too weak to think he even has a prayer of succeeding." Lilian says, helpfully-unhelpfully.     'So why can't I...?'     "Because it's psychotic." Lilian says, over a glass of wine that only somewhat technically didn't come from some sort of indentured servant. "Every major warfighting power has to teach its professional soldiers to dehumanize the enemy to some extent. Grinding off the individual's higher reasoning and suborning their will to the hierarchy is something everyone does, to some degree or another." Sip.     "And you're not a noble knight, raised on a heady stream of honour and duty and romantic higher purpose to give it all a sense of dignity and closure. You're not even battling 'those foreign bastards from over there, who are not like us and cannot be trusted', as a common footsoldier, nor are you pressed into this position as a helpless conscript, bound to the whims of your lord."     "Killing a loved one for the state to make a little extra coin is insane. It's obvious why only a veteran would be able to master that level of psychological suppression in battle."     'That's about it! I'm not as fancy as you.'     Lilian, watching from the sidelines, says "Well-rounded and practical. It speaks to your experience in combat; and I'd trust that well before how fancy a weapon is." Lilian idly drums her fingers on her thigh. "If someone draws a beautiful weapon against you, there's a one-third chance they don't know how to use it at all, a one-third chance that they're passably skilled, but aren't drawing out the weapon's full potential, and a one-third chance that they're someone you should fear. A fine main-arm and a well-rounded kit isn't something an amateur will typically carry."     'What are you, a noblewoman?'     Lilian opens her mouth, closes it, half-sighs, then says "Sort of?"     'Maybe I'm hoping I can pressure you into saying 'yes', and then it'll be too late to back out?'     "Finally. Someone who knows how to negotiate. Now if only you were better at lying." says Lilian. She still rolls her eyes at 'working for me'.     'I couldn't- as long as there's any hope at all, I couldn't stand to fight him in a way that proves him right.'     '... You're a little bit dumb. You know that?'     ". . . It's not stupid. If you aren't capable of 'no matter the cost', then you shouldn't try. Somone who fights in a way they don't believe in has no chance of defeating someone who does."
Khosa	Khosa, who *is* a cop (sort of) (more of a sheriff or marshall) knows that tone of voice. But it's aimed in another direction, so she just grins. "Back before I got as good as I am without, I used to use an axe," Khosa says, "but we wouldn't make them of silver. Doesn't it bend? We used stone for the heads, you can get it as sharp as bronze if you know what you're doing. But these days I'm more likely to break them than get more than a couple swings out of them... I really should start carrying throwing axes again, though." People have seen her fight; Khosa throws things all the time, but usually just things she finds on the ground. (Or, sometimes, the ground; she's broken up rocks before.) "So, I mean, if you want to give it a go..." It's an open call. "Or we can just arm wrestle. I won't even cheat." She rests one hand over her heart. Khosa reaches over and gives Echidna a friendly thump across the shoulders. "See? We're not so bad. Though I don't know if it's working for... it's definitely working *with*." She approves of Roy's decision, too, though she's not going to praise him in front of the others, especially the others she sees as leaders - Echidna or Lilian - for it; it would embarrass him, she thinks. So instead he gets a more serious nod. It's not entirely pragmatic, his decision - but Khosa, though sometimes very direct and even brutal about her idea of law, doesn't mind not pragmatic if it comes from a good place. "Wouldn't be the first time I've been called a little dumb, either. I try hard though," she adds. "I figure I can at least manage 'not stupid' most of the time."
Desire Stars	If I could I'd be wiping that smirk of his off his face right now.     Does it seem more smug, just now? Or is there something else, just behind the eyes? There just might be, but what it is seems hard to gauge. From one angle, it looks like it could be guilt. From another, maybe a pang of empathy--the kind that comes from knowing something private. Maybe he's more alike Dieck than even the mercenary first guessed. 'If you could', huh? I don't see anything stopping you. I'm startin' to think you two really are amicable. That or he knows that he's far too weak to think he even has a prayer of succeeding.     "Our employer could dock his pay or terminate his contract for it," says Ace. "And they tend to be very observant. He has his reasons for wanting to, anyway. More than that, I shouldn't say. 'Not my crime to confess,' like you said." It's like Thea's always saying. I'm not cut out for this.     "That's not true," says Neon. "Maybe it would be, if this were some... 'normal' war. If there's such a thing. If this were some kind of war that could happen and the world could mostly be the same afterwards, then I'd be willing to believe that."     "But it's like Ace has said before... this isn't just fighting over borders or succession or even long-standing bad blood that's boiled over from skirmishes into full blown war... Zephiel is doing all of this to get an answer to something he thinks is deeply... wrong, with the world. Something that he needs answered more than anything else."     "For that kind of fight--the fight where everything is at stake, where old legends have to be dug up, there's no one better than someone like you. Whose 'feelings get in the way.'"     "This is the kind of war where our feelings--" She pauses, chewing on her lip, searching for the words. Her hands ball into fists, resting in her lap. "Where what's important to us is tested just as much as how good we are at fighting. Maybe more. I'm not a strategist, but even I know that what we did--intervening like that, running into all that fire, against people who had our position surrounded from the high ground--any strategist or tactitian or whoever that's even halfway competent would say that it was a blunder. Winning, despite doing something stupid, doesn't make it not stupid to do. But I don't care." She takes a steadying breath. "There are people who will see tomorrow because of us."     "Besides... something tells me she only tells you that because of how much she cares about you, anyway. Deep down, she doesn't want you to get hurt. ...I think I have an idea of how you could get through to her--but you have to believe that you're right, and that 'being right,' in the middle of all this, is worth fighting for."     After a pause, her brown eyes meet Shanna's. "Just like when we flew in there to begin with, or with Galle..." A little mischievous grin takes residence on her face. Cats are known for being clever, too.      "If nothing else, the best way for her to keep you safe is being within arm's reach, right?"
Trudy Grimm	Grimnir chuckles, tilting his head down as the teens respond so brightly, "Plants do everything at their own pace. Check this little fellow in a few days and that bud will be open again, no snack in sight." When Lilina brings up growing one back in Ostia's fine soil, the old man rubs his chin in thought, "Are you hoping such a thing would capture bandits? Heh heh... Maybe if the petals look like gold coins, ehh?"     He knows what he's doing. Happy children makes for happy adults. Good cheer is as infectious as the Plague and in times like these, more valuable than gold. Though it's also just fun for him to teach kids more about the world around them, by the look on his face.     With little more to say and nothing said toward her, Trudy accepts her true place as an accessory to Lilian for this. Leaning back, she kicks her feet lightly, resting the teacup on top of the Grimoire once more.
Blemishine	"No," Shanna says, scrunching further into herself. "Which is dumb of me."     "I don't think it is all," Maria replies to Shanna, with a bit more warmth in her smile now. "If you told me you were ready, I don't think I'd have believed you. Feeling like that might not make you a top class mercenary by Ilian standards, by how you and her are used to doing things, but it makes you an excellent member of Lord Roy's entourage. And even more, a wonderful sister."     Another bite of bread, which she swiftly chases with a drink of tea, before setting the cup down and clapping her hands. "Exactly as Neon is saying. We're fighting a war where much more matters than just being prepared to kill whoever is standing in our way, no matter who they are. Zephiel is a man who's committing all of these acts with a very deep-seated passion and thought for how things - how the world - should be in his mind."     "So, I won't let you think it's stupid to not want to fight your own flesh and blood. Nobody should /want/ to. And that's exactly the kind of attitude that I think we'll need to get through to someone duty-bound like Sir Klein... and your sister along with him."     "If you love her and come at her earnestly, she'll hear you out. Hmhm. Between you and me, I think she might even be surprised by how far you've come! We've been through some battles that the mercenaries from your homeland might only dream of fighting in by now, I think." The defense of Ostia certainly comes to mind. Her hands finally unclasp, returning to their shared meal.     "Oh, and when you chat with her again next time? I'll do my own little part to make sure you won't be interrupted. Promise!"     If Neon doesn't get to Klein first, that is. That might be worse for him, honestly.