Chevaleresse

Scarlet blinked. Then blinked again. "Wait. You mean to tell me you willingly work with people who shoot you with live rounds on a regular basis? I'd say that's a lot more fucked than a stun weapon." This crew might actually be weirder than the one on the Reunion, at this rate, and that was an impressive feat. Though she doubted anyone here had "ceiling spider" in their playbook. Which was a bad thing, really; Boris's unique flavor of ultraviolence was always a welcome addition to any mission gone pear-shaped. Still, this guy made her uncomfortable. If he was used to teammates shooting each other...

Thunderlord fixed Scout with a gaze of a blue that was far too bright to be completely natural. She stared at him for several moments, thoughts inscrutable. Truthfully, she assessed and largely dismissed his statement in the first moment; no space magic she knew of could be described as "perfectly safe," though she supposed it wasn't entirely impossible he was from a different world. Regardless, his pause did not exactly inspire confidence. The rest of the long silence was spent considering what she was going to do. She'd need a method of finding this sorcerer, as well as competent allies in the case that she was more threatening than the letter might have indicated. Then, check the world for other threats; if a place was of interest to one foe, it was often of interest to others. The seemingly frozen scene was thawed when she abruptly turned and started to walk towards the exit of the alley. "We should move."

Scarlet shrugged, then idly nodded along as she continued her maintenance. She wasn't about to argue the merits of corporate jobs - being well aware that her bias was an unfair, if deeply-rooted one - with some guy who seemed pretty content with his. At least, until he mentioned getting shot by his allies. Friends? "You mean paintballs or stunners or something, right?" It would take being shot by an ally intentionally all of once for Scarlet to pick up and move to a different crew entirely, barring some batshit insane plan involving it happening.

"I am. . . not comfortable parting with my weapon. Unwanted discharge is unlikely outside of deliberate interference." She couldn't say with certainty what would happen if she were parted with it; the gun contained a nontrivial amount of processing power, though theoretically she should be able to operate independently of it from what she knew of her own technical specifications. This was not a situation she had expected to encounter and be required to deal with, though. "I will operate without it if absolutely necessary, however." She then turned herself to the girl's first question. Her name? She hadn't properly existed until very recently; it would be odd to try and fish around for one to adopt from the ghosts of memories that remained in her frame. A different process told her that androids of her nature were often referred to simply by the weapons they used. "Thunderlord." It would suffice. Somewhat belatedly, she realized she had not actually specified what the term referred to. "That is my. . . name." With that out of the way, she turned quickly to the next order of business. "Scout, what method do you use to carry gear?" She would need to know if she was going to be subjecting her weapon to it; it had to be something somewhat advanced or arcane, barring the slim chance he had some sort of lead-lined compartment underneath that mass of cloak. The wrong method could play. . .poorly with the exotics in the gun.

"Suppose you're right. Suits gonna suit." She shrugged, settling back into what passed for her seat and pulling several parts that looked like they could be a shaving kit if one didn't look too closely out of her pockets. "Thought I was done with corporate jobs, though. Corps tend to not like me, and I tend to really not like them." A rag was produced from somewhere in her clothing, which she then took to several pieces that looked like lenses and emitters on her assorted bits. After she finished each one, it was fastened to another part; it didn't take much of this before it was recognizable as some sort of weapon that had previously been disassembled.

"Solomon decided to, um, take care of something else, while we talked. He thought another meeting might be. . . awkward." She wasn't entirely certain that volunteering this information was actually making matters better, but Heidrun was already speaking. "W-We're not here to hurt you, or anything, though; I couldn't if I wanted to! Er, if you're still feeling unwell, though, I could try to help; I am a healer and while you don't really seem to be under the effects of a life-threatening illness - which is usually my specialty - I could try, um, if you wanted!" It was proving to be an impossible task to keep the nerves out of her voice, especially as she babbled in the direction of the senator.

Kane to D25 attack Fighter C Justine to D26 dance for Kane Kane to F23 attack Archer F

Arturia let out a sigh as soon as they got out into the hallway, trying to take a moment to compose herself. "Sorry, I, uh. You know, even if it's for a practical thing, that stuff's weird to talk about." She didn't mention the "mommy" bit for now, but couldn't help a second, internal sigh at that. At least if that filtered back through the grapevine, her mom would think she had a girlfriend and finally let off on that. On a slightly more practical note, they couldn't talk about Lilith's ideas around the other two, not after agreeing it was best that nobody eavesdropped on anyone else's business. "So, uh, about the. . . milk? Does it really have to be. . .?" She couldn't quite bring herself to finish that question, embarrassment clamping down once more.

The Light works in strange ways, but I will not let this slow me down. Not that she had much context for what was strange and what was not, but she had sense enough to know that being teleported between worlds abruptly was. . . unusual. "You are correct, Moonstar." She eyed her for a moment. Empathy; likely not the generic term. The power to read and manipulate emotion. Classically, not something that affected inorganic beings; she could not safely make that assumption, but she did not feel that this would be an issue regardless. The girl glanced downward at the rather sizable firearm resting in her arms, the occasional spark of restrained energy occasionally skittering along its frame. She could hear the sounds of the city around her; the girl wasn't certain if the area would be used to people with heavy weaponry operating in the area, and she wasn't keen on trying to pin down assailants in a crowd. "There are civilians in the area; will my armaments be an issue?"

"As long as you're first in line to be chewed on by whatever's on the other side, I'm ready for anything." The green individual moved over to take up a position by the door, readying his improvised weapon once more.

Is it still weebshit if it's crossed over with Western media?

"This is better than the Sled, at least. Thing is such a piece of shit. A reliable piece of shit, sort of, but still a piece of shit." She shook her head. At least there were no overworked docking officials harassing them about crunching up their docking clamps for the umpteenth time to be concerned with at the moment. "Gotta wonder why they're trying so hard to sell a bunch of mercs on this shit. That kind of corporate bullshit doesn't work on people who've actually gotta put their lives on the line, and every time you mention how high your standards are, the more convinced I get that your goddamn rifle is going to misfire and explode in my hands as soon as it gets damp." Her voice held the bitterness of experience; there was a particular experience on a boggy world that she was not exactly keen on repeating. That would teach her to trust cheap chemically-propelled weapons.

Lucine blinked a bit. She didn't really know what to make of the visions; apparently she wasn't the only one they had occurred for, either, given the looks on her companions' faces. "I don't really. . . know? Is that a normal thing around here? Group visions and stuff?" She'd heard of seers and such, but they were usually fake. The future was hard to predict, if it could be predicted at all, and even the Yggdmillenias didn't really deal with that kind of thing. "'Cause it isn't at home." The magical girl didn't really linger on it, though, turning over her new weapon in her hands once more. "Oh, and, uh, what did you mean by 'wonky?'"

"There is still more to do." Mitsurugi stood in the aftermath of her handiwork, and simply surveyed where her remaining foes were before breaking into graceful motion once more. Her form very nearly blurred with the speed at which she moved, striking at the gashadokuro once more. Attack the Gashadokuro's Core with Mitsu's daisho, dealing 5d6+DEX+SYN+37 damage.

Hiroki glanced awkwardly between Cap, the hole, and the other side of the hole. Fear of death by bottomless pit aside (she didn't really doubt his ability to do so), she wasn't particularly keen on putting herself through the embarrassment of being physically tossed over the gap. She was of an eminently tossable size, and would appreciate a lack of attention to that. "Um, is everyone light enough?" The mech fighter wasn't familiar with the limits of the stranger's physical power, and it was feasible that not everyone was light enough for this to work. "Don't, um, we have a way to make a bridge? Gozer, do, um, you think you could?"

"Well, this place is just a fine ray of sunshine, isn't it? Exactly the sort of lovely place you wanna break in a new body or two in. Though, seems like they forgot the 'in,' here." He hadn't exactly expected much in the way of pleasant sights here. Spook prepared to strike with his improvised weapon, should the growling from behind the door turn out to be less like snoring and more like, well, growling. "Relax, kid. It only goes downhill from here, enjoy the easy walk while you can."

"Sounds like they haven't got a lot of respect for your safety." She wanted to say that the idea of killing a ten year old and harvesting his eyes to get at his augmentations (this sounded like something else, but it was close enough) was shocking to her, but she couldn't quite muster up that emotion at that point. Disgust, maybe, and a tinge of horror, but it wasn't actually the worst thing she'd heard of in the last week or so. . . though it was still pretty bad. Torture/kill switches on kids? "Guess I can see why they'd worry about those eyes, though. If they're even half as effective as you're saying, they'd be invaluable in all sorts of spec ops." That's right, he'd said something about. . . shinobi and genin or something. Ninjas? She vaguely remembered something having to do with ninjas. "Well, I probably won't shoot you, I can promise you that at least."

Ten? Well, the way he made it sound, it wasn't that uncommon among his people. . . but that didn't make it a good thing. "So basically, they're trying to kill you for not wanting to die?" Talk about a rock and a hard place. "Sounds like they weren't worth the loyalty in the first place." She was curious, though; he had some method of reading things through walls? Didn't sound like a mindhack by description, and not something that could be explained by the augs she knew of. Then again, he was supposedly from a different world or something, so that made sense to her. "You mention your eyes and this, uh, Byakugan? I can't say I've heard of the latter before, and I've been around for. . . a while, what's that about?"

Scarlet resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "If you were really helpful, you'd get me supplies now." Not that she wasn't used to having crap supplies, but it would be nice to not have to treat a bullet wound with a wad of individually wrapped children's bandages. She was running low on death stickers and hadn't exactly had time for a shopping trip before she showed up. Scarlet resisted the urge to sigh again as she glanced about the room; on the one hand, the crew being entirely human meant she wouldn't have to worry about killing someone with the wrong sticker. It also meant that a good eighty percent of hers were worthless. What really worried her, though, was the kid. She looked young herself, but Scarlet knew she wasn't. Him, though? He looked the part, all the way through. Acted the part, too, except for the eyes. Some kind of augs? It was almost criminal to get a kid augged, but that was the least curious thing. "How old are you, anyway, kid? Akihiro? And how is it that you end up being accused of high treason?" He looked like he should be studying English in middle school, not training for combat and evading execution. She had to assume he was from a low-tech world, that or he played way too many video games.

Crow made a little tutting sound at Immanuel's rant, setting down her tea for a moment. "Now now, Immanuel, behave yourself. Your group is clearly not a professional one - but you got the job accomplished anyway, which is the part that actually matters in the long run. Besides, we have more important things to speak about. Like your unexpected guest. I'm going to need a full run-down of everything that happened, including them. Especially them." She looked over Chise for a moment. "I also don't see any harm in letting her try the card out - she is quite under control."

Active Angel

"I haven't been lead to believe there's much in the way of divinity out in the void. Or there is, and they just don't care. Either way, this whole act isn't winning a lot of points." She waved her hand dismissively at Stella, but still answered the question. "It's Scarlet. Field medic for the Merciful Reunion, if you haven't heard of us then your docking clamps are probably in good shape." She did her best to ignore Zoe Walker's. . . uniqueness (at least she seemed aware of it on some level) and instead elected to answer the droid's question. "I think the only one that knows that is the Jack on that screen, and I'm getting the feeling neither of us would recognize it if we heard anyway."

A partially-suppressed sigh came from the teenager's direction. Well, at least she had enough quirk for her to feel at home. Her exasperation turned into a raised eyebrow that seemed apt to disappear into her hairline entirely when Stella spoke. "And I'm the goddess of well-paying contracts, try not to let some asshat who won't speak to you in person squeeze you into a box full of lunatics." Delusions of godhood were new, different worlds or no. She had to assume this Jack meant something a bit more significant than planets, else he wouldn't have mentioned it at all, but she wasn't about to bow and scrape because some chick could make sparkles shoot out her ass or something. She glanced in the direction of the. . . ten year old? Seriously? "I don't think anyone expects you to do a whole lot in combat, bud, but it's good to know the caliber of the people we're working for. I'd ask what you were doing here, but something tells me you don't know yourself."

"Oh great, one of those. Fucking hell, have I not dealt with enough assholes today?" The teenager with the long, white hair, decked out in a hoodie and various armaments of varying sizes (including a back-slung something that looked entirely too large for her frame) was distinctly unhappy-looking, speaking with the irritated and weary tone of someone who has been in this exact situation and been less than fond. Truthfully, though, her heart rate was through the roof. One moment she was staring down a fungal mantis, her nanites giving the disturbing readout of just how dead her infection had her, and the next. . . she was here. No flickering nanite display, her arms seemed to work, they were even polite enough to grab her railgun for her. Not melted, so that's nice, I guess. But where the hell's the Reunion? And Sadish. . . She shook her head. They would be fine without her, or they were beyond worrying. Best to move forward for now. "I'm not sure he wouldn't give you indigestion if you turned him into soylent."

"With our luck, yeah. I would still prefer to check the one with the lowest chance of unleashing horrible mutated zombies on us, personally, though." Spook moved towards the decidedly-less-spooky door, placing a hand on the handle but not actually moving yet. "IF we're going to breach the other one, though, the one with the weapon should actually be doing the breaching. Sword boy over here is probably the best option."