Chevaleresse

The ex-pirate barely resisted the urge to respond to the answer she received with the first question she asked. "I'm realizing that an old friend of mine would love you." The main issue with the two meeting would be getting either one to stop for oxygen. She frowned slightly as she thought about it a bit more. Sadish. . . It's been a while. I. . . can't remember how long. When did she. . . ? Scarlet shook her head and stood up with a glance at Zoe that seemed to be slightly less abject confusion and more consideration, before she settled into her default mild sulk. "If you want to do anything with that computer, I recommend opening the doors before you try to go through them."

Scarlet just sort of stared at Zoe for a moment, searching for a profanity or combination of profanities that accurately described how she, as a medic, felt about this situation. For one of the very few times in her life, her vast knowledge of interplanetary curse words failed her entirely, resulting in a simple, flat "What." She hadn't actually gone to any formal medical training, but she was fairly certain this wasn't how human anatomy worked. Even the heavily modded men she'd seen hadn't been so. . . whatever this was. "Where's your lung?" she asked, not entirely intentionally.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Rhian shoved Ceridwen backward, hard. "I don't care who's against you and who isn't. But of course, you'd never stop to consider that it wasn't some elaborate plot to make you feel bad, would you?" Rhian took an aggressive step forward, her voice going lower and darker. "You don't know anything. Not about me, and not about this. You think I'm mean? You think I'm an ugly person? You sure as hell don't see me sending out kids to die. But no, I said some mean words, so fuck everything else I've done. Keep worshipping your damned commanders, see where that gets you when you stop being useful."

Rhian was audibly grinding her teeth as the boy dragged her over towards Ceridwen, demonstrating a quite franky impressive inability to read a situation, or an equally impressive foolhardiness in ignoring it. She considered the fact that she didn't just backhand him for presuming to do such a thing to be a testament to her great tolerance. His little act was less than amusing, too, though perhaps if she were having a better day she might have gone along with it. Rhian almost agreed with Ceridwen, but her last little whimper was enough to push her to a breaking point. "Oh, give me a fucking break. Keep holding onto stupid damned blacksmith's journal like you gave birth to it, but you haven't lost ANYTHING yet." Rhian jabbed a finger toward her - if they'd been in a bit closer proximity, it probably would have been against her chest - and then towards Futch. "Not like him, not like everyone who just lost a son or a daughter today because these fucking bastards could care less about what happens to their kids as long as they get a functional soldier out of the ones that survive." She rounded on Argos. "You hear that? You see what's happening around you? This is what your idols are like. This is what they do."

"Great," Rhian said, with all the enthusiasm of the average puddle of mud. She turned away from the noisy swordsman, looking restless. Like she had a destination in mind, but had to wait for someone else to give the okay. Lacking anything other than Argos and his. . . Argos-ness to distract her, her gaze eventually settled on Ceridwen, a gaze that slowly but surely filled with an outright hostility evident in her expression if nothing else. In reality, she was glaring at the journal the dragon rider was cradling like her firstborn child.

Thunderlord looks about, still in full combat mode. The barrel of her machine gun swings over the crowd, searching for the Hydra. She'd never seen one teleport that quickly, but that didn't necessarily mean it hadn't happened. She heard Danielle saying something in the background, but she was focused on tracking down the most pressing current threat. It took her a short time to determine it had in fact left the area (as far as she could tell,) which meant whipping about to focus on the position of their primary target here. It only took her a moment to get a bearing before dashing towards the so-called Necromaster, immediately attempting to leap at him and pin him down.

I'm never going to understand this kid.She didn't exactly feel like "the coolest" and hadn't the faintest idea of why Argos seemed so taken with her, but it wasn't anything she could strictly complain about. "It means 'guardian.' Or, uh, more than that. Someone who comes and helps you when you're down or can't fend for yourself." What calmness she'd acquired from the momentary distraction faded as she considered the word more in connection with her surroundings. Not someone to expect to be there when you need it.

"Can you quit the god damned pity party?" Rhian snapped at Argos, turning to look at him directly. "You took a few hits. Who fucking cares? You're alive and haven't killed anyone that wasn't supposed to die, get over it. Worse things than not being an unstoppable god of combat happen to people every day." The archer folded her arms. "And I don't' know if you noticed, but you're not exactly going to be recruiting a lot of people from the damned Dragon Knights. Sorta happens when you get invaded." She spat the name as if it was a worse profanity than any of the ones she'd uttered thus far.

"I don't know, call it Defender or Ymgeleddwyr or Murder Fucker, I don't give a damn," she bit off with a bit more hostility than she actually intended. The archer took a deep breath, trying not to physically shake with the conflicted emotions she was feeling. And, of course, Argos was blitheringly oblivious to anything going on with her or the situation in general, as usual. "I just want to get my orders and leave." Not true, of course, but she could never admit to what she actually wanted to do at the moment.

Gwyn welcomed the distraction of the mushrooms, even if the half-fae kept glancing back nervously at Blodeuyn as if the mage was some kind of dangerous-but-currently-calm predator Gwyn wasn't familiar with. Their nervousness faded a bit as they started to notice the bugs moving about too, watching their tiny legs skitter around the garden. "That one is pretty neat. And I think the bugs like it, too." The wyvern rider plucked a beetle off of the ground, placing it in one cupped hand. "Like this guy!"

Rhian blinked. The question caught her off guard slightly. She hadn't actually thought about it much, if at all. And even she didn't dare give the full answer to the question here and now, in the midst of the stronghold of the Dragon Knights. "Because I can," she began simply. "Past that point, nobody cares why, anyway. It's all I've done, and it's all I'm going to do." Rhian stopped for a moment, but whether it was her current emotional state or just some ass-backwards way of trying to finally apologize for berating the kid over a compliment, she kept going after a moment. "Somebody has to do it, and it might as well be me. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. It's what I've done ever since I was a little kid, and it's all that I was left of my birthright." She clamped her mouth, knowing that she couldn't continue but almost enraged by even referencing whatever it was had happened in her past, then continued through gritted teeth. "And maybe it'll give me a chance to kill the bastards responsible.

Rhian had been dead silent from the moment the Guard began mounting up to this moment. She'd gotten herself into and out of the saddle without assistance, and rather than gawking at the marvel of seeing the landscape from the air or hanging onto her riding companion for dear life as infrequent fliers were wont to do, she. . . hadn't done much at all. Rhian had mostly just looked straight ahead, looking a strange combination of even angrier than usual, pensive, and a few other things that were difficult to discern. The mixture hadn't grown any less strange or potent after they landed, either, though now she seemed to at least be looking at her surroundings. It took her several moments to even realize she'd been spoken to. "Huh?" Her tone, somewhat shockingly, didn't sound angry, though it quickly darkened to its usual hue as she continued. "What do you want?"

G-17, dance for Lysander, look like a strong independent woman near Baldur

"Still not a computer," Scarlet replies, in a matter actually rather befitting her appearance for once. "And I'm pretty sure Hirata isn't that kind of doctor." Normally someone slamming into a wall like that would have at least startled her, but the woman's erratic behavior was becoming distressingly normal already. Still, she moved over to the downed mage, already beginning to check her over. "For your information, I'm a field medic on top of my other occupations. Please don't make my job more difficult by introducing your head to more steel plates." Though it's not like the brain damage would make her any crazier. . .

"This is why a calm mind is the first step to good swordsmanship, Kietasenshi." K10 and attack Konko

While Ena asks her questions of the man, Kusuke did some small tests of his power. That odd feeling in the air was back, but it felt like the temporal effects might have subsided, at least. Could he still move through space and time properly? He also did an examination of the man, as best as he could. He wasn't particularly good at actually feeling how other people were moving through time, but maybe he could tell something? Failing that, he'll ask if he can do some similar tests on him, to see how Didi responds.

"Umm, I can keep quiet I suppose. I don't think I'm very sneaky, though. Maybe I should just pretend to be a foreigner? I suppose I am one, but, you know, more foreign." She forced herself to stop before she began to truly ramble. "I do think we should probably start moving as soon as we can, though. I'd really rather be done with this as soon as possible. A healer isn't meant to be doing all of these cloak and dagger things. . ."

"An. . . inhaler?" She coughed once. "Is that some kind of breathing apparatus?" Without delaying for an answer, Patchouli leaned forward and peered at the artifact for a few moments, eventually picking it up and turning it over in her hands a few times. "That's. . . concerning. . . that would certainly be. . ." The magician trails off into mumbling as she walks off a bit, before sweeping a number of books off a table (which promptly took off flying on their own around the library.) Some sort of magical circle was inscribed on it, and Patchouli placed the artifact in the center, at which point the table lit up in five different colors, before shifting once more to an eerie-looking set of washed-out hues. While Patchouli did. . . whatever she was doing with the artifact, Meiling continued her explanation. "Flandre, like Remilia, is a vampire. For her to properly feed, there has to be something left of the human to feed off of. That would be what Sakuya meant." The maid nodded. "And yeah, that sounds a lot like what happened earlier. According to Lady Remilia, she did act like that once upon a time, but I've never seen it." Sakuya looked away for a moment, remembering an old shame. "Hopefully she accepts that explanation, she seemed pretty shaken up by the whole ordeal. . ." The gatekeeper trailed off, concern evident in her voice. "You're thinking of Marisa Kirisame. She has been a bit of a nuisance around here. Ever since the mist incident, she's been inviting herself in and 'borrowing' tomes, as she describes it. A far cry from the issues I expected to have with a strange human in the library." Sakuya glanced in Patchouli's direction; the lightshow seemed to have ceased, and the anemic magus was headed back towards the group. She glanced at the maid, who gave her a meaningful glance back. After this exchange, she turned towards Walmond to deliver her expectation "This artifact is meant to be used as part of a set, as far as I can tell. Three, or maybe four pieces should exist. It grants the bearer a significant amount of magical power, and warps their form. I believe this is to help the body contain the magical power, though it's a rather crude method." Her tone turned somewhat derogatory for a moment, before she continued normally. "However, if the bearer is not of the proper bloodline, then it will warp their mind alongside their form. I cannot tell if this is a deliberate feature or simply a result of it only being made for a particular kind of being. However. . . I did get a brief impression of some sort of fish-headed man?" She mulled over the thought for a moment longer. "Perhaps it only works properly if the wearer is aquatic in nature. . ."

"You've given me no choice." She would leave her response to the warlike youkai for later, instead moving up to deal with the immediate threat. M11, stab Demon Wolf 2

Seeing the rest paralyzed by Arthur's wounds, Justine stepped forward, raising Joyeuse high. "To arms, Virtuous! Our enemies have branded themselves as the darkness against which we fight. Let our light chase them back into the cracks where they belong!" J18, Perform Mim and Arthur

Rhian stared at the tome for a long moment, face unreadable. It settled into a darker version of her normal scowl, and she waved a hand irritably at Ceridwen. "Do you mind saving the waterworks for later? We still have to report back." There was an unusual strain in her voice, her words grating slightly. "And she still needs to change," she said, jerking her thumb towards Chin. Rhian was concerned about the laguz, but right now she also served as a convenient distraction from what she was being confronted with at the moment.

"I. . .Yes, I'll miss him too. He was like an older brother to all of us, and it brings me great sorrow to think that he could not feel at home with us." She put a hand on Shin's shoulder. "We might still meet him again someday, though. I just hope he'll be okay in the meantime."

"What." It wasn't even really a question, more of a raw expression of annoyed confusion expressed in the closest possible linguistic container. Made of tiny. . . Oh, the nanites. "I'm not 'made of tiny computers,' for the record. They're basically just a twenty-four-seven medical staff." She frowned. "And isn't that doctor or whatever a better one to go to for tech support? I fix things that bleed, generally."

Sakuya shook her head. "The incident is the appearance of these rocks, of course. If you want to call them that. I recommend taking them to Patchouli on your way out, assuming you can get conversation out of her. As for Lady Flandre," Sakuya began, prompting Meiling to give the group an anxious glance-over, "she never learned to attack humans properly. She has the ability to destroy anything she chooses to, so I recommend that you avoid her if you think she's lurking, or do your best to entertain her if you can't." The gate guard gave the maid an unreadable look, but seemed satisfied when Sakuya stopped there. Meiling led the party into the main entrance hall of the mansion - an impressive, aged structure, with fine stained glass windows and a strong Gothic feel to the whole thing - and then through a large set of doors into an equally impressive library. It almost seemed like the library stretched on forever, though a closer examination revealed this to just be a trick of the decor (though it was still quite large.) The shelving was quite tall, towering over the group and packed to the brim with tomes of ancient knowledge. . . and the occasional manga series? "This is Voile, the Magic Library. I wouldn't touch anything if I were you; just because the black-and-white girl gets away with 'borrowing' books doesn't mean you will, not to mention this place is still pretty hazardous for most humans. Magic tomes can be, uh, touchy, at times." As if on cue, one large book on a nearby shelf barked at the group as they passed. Strangely enough it seemed to be the bark of a small dog, simply amplified to be as loud as a large mastiff's or similar. The occasional fairy flitted across the shelving, and every now and again a girl with red hair and bat wings on both her back and head was visible moving between them. "Ah, and there's the little devil. It looks like she's busy, though she probably already let Patchouli know that there are 'intruders' around." Both mansion employees were quiet for a few moments as they simply walked through the library, the footsteps of the group audible as they echoed through the shelves. Just as it seemed like they would be walking through the place for ages, they came to another set of doors, alongside a purple-haired girl in a pink dress vaguely reminiscent of pajamas. "You brought strangers into my library," she stated quietly, glancing between Meiling and the group. She held yet another old tome in her hands, the corners of its pages worn and dog-eared. "Yes, Patchouli, I did, you know how things go when there's an incident going on." This didn't seem to placate the girl much, if at all, so Meiling continued. "And before you say anything about me doing my job, that job happens to be keeping everyone here safe, and in this case it means getting Sakuya her job back. Which you could totally help with, by the way," she added, somewhat irritably. "I'm Remilia's friend, not her employee. And I don't like watching people attack my friends." A pair of tomes floated up from nearby, and seemed to somehow point themselves ominously at Sakuya. "I have no intention of making an attempt on Lady Remilia's life, Patchouli." The mage's response was simply a dubious look and snapping her book closed, though her seriousness was somewhat spoiled when the ensuing puff of dust sent her into a wheezing coughing fit. Sakuya's expression shifted slightly as it went on, softening slightly before returning to her normal icy countenance. She waited patiently for the fit to subside before continuing. "If you don't believe me, take a look at the artifact I had earlier." She gestured at Walmond, the current holder of the thing, and Patchouli's response was simply an expectant glance at her while the mage tried to recover her breath.

"Sure it did, buddy. I'm not cutting that out of you." Jack's behavior as well as Stella's didn't exactly inspire confidence. She reminded her of Boris, if Boris was less oddly hypercompetent and somehow less sane, and he was like an uglier and less angry version of Scarlet herself from. . . was it eighty years ago now? Didn't matter. The other Jack wasn't improving things either. Zoe was another reminder of Boris, also insane but also competent in her own bizarre way. Possibly easier to work with, depending on whether one preferred rambling to sullen silence. Vepr-12 was someone to be watched, and the remaining Jack seemed manageable as long as someone beat it into his skull that most people didn't like getting shot as a joke. She moved into the ship and immediately started to hunt out the medbay and its stocks, doing her best to ignore "Handsome" Jack's everything. It had to be better than her previous home's infirmary, at least. She quietly resolved to make one last act of piracy and figure out a way to steal this ship from its owner without being traced. Freelancing was so much better than being disposable.