Magical Adventures

“Not a mister and while I don’t doubt your abilities, where there’s one haunting there’s usually more. The crypts aren’t nice even to the most experienced around here.” The fact that so far every incident seemed to be coming from the gardens on the other hand was a bit puzzling... 

Every skeleton on display, every tombstone, every urn situated for decoration... all of them were notarized with the correct permissions signed off by the departed before entombment for a reason. The Mortalitasi weren’t savages despite what the rumors might have the public believe, they weren’t about to display even a singular skull if there wasn’t explicit permission. 

There’s a blink, a bit puzzled, though they stopped to try and wrangle their head for a moment. Halloween... Halloween... “All Soul’s Day? Sorry—hundreds of cultures and funerary rites to remember, it’s hard to keep all the holidays in line. But to answer your question, I live here. Well—used to, long story, but I popped by for a visit since I still have some friends here who were looking into a few things for me. Stumbling upon a haunting wasn’t exactly in my list of things to do today—” 

The bones in the slumped spirit seemed to weakly respond to that, Nels already pulling the focus back out—but luckily it ceased. Thank the Light. “Ooooh, I hate when they do that...” A short exhale of relief. “It’ll be dissipating back to the other side soon enough. If it returns, hopefully it’ll be in a healthier shape so we can provide it a home...--” 

Though just as a precaution they were definitely going to summon a small barrier to absorb any feedback. Better safe than sorry. 

“I’m Nels, though my friends call me Rook. And if you’d like I can walk you back to the surface. We can continue talking, if you’d like along the way. It’s just better to navigate in pairs if you aren’t gifted in corpse whispering, or you could get stuck on the same floor for weeks.” 

All of the Quartermaster's concerns seemed to instantly melt at the way Soap spoke to the little drone. "Ah, he's- it's a prototype, Gizmo for short. He can lift a surprising amount but I would prefer not to blow him up. He's a closed-circuit AI that I developed that only exists inside his drive so, if he was destroyed, it would be-" Heartbreaking. "A long job to fix him."

He really lit up at the offer of the paint, nodding so eagerly that his glasses slipped a little down his nose as eager green eyes stared up at Soap with an intensity that he hadn't had before. "Yes, please. That would be useful. He's small, so avoids most detection instruments, but systems to locate drones are getting better every day and I would prefer he were safe."

Any attention that had been locked into clearing up the situation might’ve just been allocated to the rather neat little drone flittering about. Which... usually meant all of it, seeing as the cogs were already turning on just how many pieces it’d take to make his own. Not that he ever would try to find out, Soap didn’t exactly have the finesse to create. 

... Unless it was creating ordinances that didn’t have a name yet. Sure, they could just order more but it was probably safer to just give Soap a healthy outlet anyways. 

“--Aye, yeah.” More an auditory response to confirm he very much was still in this conversation than anything, strap pulling the rifle back against a solid shoulder. “Nae mind but keep ‘im more behind than in front. Long range isn’t a problem, but m’ specs and way of doin’ slap me firm in close to mid-range. And how I fight? Can clip th’ wee guy pretty easy.” 

Though with that said he could already hear a few clicks in his ear and stopped to register the news quickly. Updates from Laswell’s drones, number of squads possibly hunting them, shortest routes they could take... 

He could probably kiss his boss if he was sure her wife wouldn’t maim him. 

The whole time he was speaking, his fingers were working a small screwdriver to take the tablet to pieces. Soon the individual components were spread out in a neat configuration across the table.

"Usually, just falling in water doesn't cause this. I suppose, perhaps if you tried to charge it while it was still wet... Or tried to charge it and, for some reason, the charger was outputting too much power." He smiled at Sebastian.

Oops. Another thing carelessly said. Distraction, distraction...  

“W-well, yes, and she’s definitely always been a character. Bit rambunctious sometimes, hence the unfortunate technology accidents, you know, cats and their needs to bat things off of shelves when you least expect it.” The laugh? Definitely not awkward at all. “Sometimes it might be my fault with the plant soils—” 

Definitely also not believable whatsoever. Who the hell would be stupid enough to keep their tablet next to the soil bags anyways? 

It was probably just better to watch anyways, gloved hands wringing together to try and create some kind of a focus to just... not talk. Like that was ever going to stop Sebastian from making any situation infinitely weirder. 

She wants to slow him down, head spinning a little more intensely with each confession. Like an out of control merry-go-round that she couldn't get off. It felt impossible, the lot of it. That he cared so deeply, when she'd thought she was drowning in a well on her own for months. That she could manage to hold his gaze when she'd been invisible all her life.

She can feel tears in her eyes, but she does her best to leave them unacknowledged, hands shifting to cup his face so she can turn his eyes towards hers. He couldn't mean that. There was no way they were teetering just on the edge of getting out. She couldn't pull him out with a word. Could she?

Christ almighty, did he deserve to be out. At least for a little bit. He, more than anyone, deserved a reprieve.

"I know you can't protect me." She's too dizzy for this, but she persists regardless, thumb travelling along his jawline as she studies his face. "I know that. I think I'd take hell if it meant I got five minutes with my father. And I think I've seen enough to make that choice. That's what makes this different."

It’s instinctive to want to correct, to want to point out that no, she didn’t know Hell. She didn’t know what that was and how the thought would be nothing more than a tool to be used to torture her with until she broke. He could say it all, but he keeps his mouth shut. 

His own cruel selfishness. John couldn’t help but ponder when he’d finally grow up and stop this cycle once and for all. 

“... You know I can’t protect you.” Less confirmation and more repetition. Showing that this was the truth, this had to be accepted. Whatever happened after this, in or out of his control, he couldn’t be blamed for. But he’d let himself be—though they could worry about that later down the line. 

... Down the line. What a funny thought about this. 

“Tossing it all away on some bloke who’ll just ruin you in th’ end like everything else...” He finally closes the gap to chase her just a bit, a surprisingly tender brush, trying to kiss away what discomfort there might be. “You deserve better.” Another kiss. 

There’s a pause, maybe a bit longer than intended because wow was Manny beginning to regret asking anything in the first place. “... Yeah? And some of us still gotta tear open our fuckin’ chests ‘cause the furbag in our heads saw a shiny and really needs to go chase it. Esa no es la cuestión, I wanna know where on my list of shit t’ worry about in my territory I gotta put you.” 

"How cruel. You won't let me show off, even a little?" Sypha lilted teasingly, a small smile playing at the edges of their lips. Still, the point was taken; these Navrons were likely different from the night creatures of their world they had a wealth of experience in dispatching, yet they knew better than to underestimate any foe, no matter how disarming it might be.

More than that, this was a painted world. As much as Sypha's magic could function without disruption, and seemed to be unadulterated, that didn't mean it couldn't be compromised. So, following Verso's example would simply be the sanest path to follow.

"Have you faced anything particularly deadly? Say--capable of toppling a massive area, even an army?" the wizard ventured, brows drawn together with concern. That wasn't to say they couldn't battle such a monstrosity, as they and their comrades had faced the embodiment of death itself.

Of course, only the foolish were truly so arrogant. Sypha had no death wish, and no intention of pushing their luck.

At the sight of the Serenphare, Sypha froze in their tracks. Instinct told them to remain stock-still lest they attract its attention, its twisty and sinuous body moving like a serpent through water. They almost launched themselves to engage in combat, but when nothing happened, their shoulders sagged.

“Maybe on something not big enough to topple a mountain.” With that said, he had to think for a brief moment on their route. Surely the bourgeon he had spotted had managed to wander off... then again, there definitely would’ve been a pretty large shadow moving across the tree line. 

Getting eaten was never a good first impression for the dangers of the continent. And Verso was kind of keen on keeping this new element alive for as long as possible. 

“You can’t even underestimate the small ones. I’ve seen more than my fair share of expeditioners get overwhelmed by even the least assuming of nevrons.” But that was probably a story better saved for another day. Verso held a hand up to stop them, jogging up ahead to take a closer look. 

Light, minimal trees, this looked to be around the same clearing he had been left off about a day ago... maybe Esquie wasn’t far off then. He cupped his hands around mouth and inhaled for one loud yell. 

“ESQUIE!” 

One quiet moment. 

Two quiet moments. 

And then with a rush in the wind, barrelling down with a loud WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE was the sight of a massive and quite silly looking... plushie? Clown? Verso always found it hard to describe him.