Chevaleresse

Lyssa wasn't willing to simply let this sort of crime go without carrying out a punishment in full. Shouting at the top of her lungs once more, she started to give chase to the fleeing Grimm, heedless of the danger; she didn't once stop to consider the conditions of her teammates, herself, or anything other than turning that Grimm into a smear on the pavement.

Karsten took only the briefest moment to draw his gun, whirl in Kazuki's direction, and fire a single shot. . . in the direction the sword had come from. It was difficult to judge at this distance, but he considered himself good at such things. Didn't expect the local mages to be so bold. You sense any Servants around? "Don't play this game with me, boy, the next shot's going into your brains." Would the ruse hold up? Probably not, but if it caused even a moment's hesitation it would be enough to make it worth it. He trained the gun on his prisoner - or, at least, made a good showing of doing so - while he scanned the area, his free hand reaching into his coat. A seemingly unremarkable bag; the contents within were enchanted, yes, but lightly so, difficult even for him to pick up on with the amount of magic in the city. The enchantment would rapidly disperse itself, too; dispersion, after all, was its function. He tossed the bag in the same general direction of where he'd fired his shot, and a black powder spilled out of it, slowly spreading and kicking itself into the air; simple iron dust, just to give him an easier magnetic field to work with. If the Master moved through it at all, whatever concealing enchantments they might have, he'd know, and it was rapidly expanding to fill the environment. If only it wasn't raining; he'd have to rely on ground-level disturbances.

Mask, after working out some measure of frustration and battle rage on one of the slower and less fortunate pirates, stood silently for a moment. "We should take their weapons. Whatever we cannot use, we should give to the townsfolk. Seeing the place like this sickens me." That said, Mask set about the task, finding a way to gather up any and all discarded or abandoned weapons for easy carrying/looting.

Hiroki, Lena, Gozer & Dackly Hiroki shook her head after reading through the note. "Just people." Monsters? The mech had definitely been helpful for fighting the monsters they'd encountered so far, but it was made to go toe-to-toe with other mechs, not the sorts of gribbly things - or soldiers - they had encountered thus far. There were the rogue science groups, she supposed; they probably used mechs, and if anyone ever did anything about them they'd have to be using mechs too. "Like I um, said, I was a tournament fighter before all, um, this." Mitsurugi and Spicy The goddess gave Spicy a somewhat questioning look. A gift, after the girl's apparent nervousness after so long? Perhaps she would have considered it with more suspicion, had her mind not been preoccupied with other things. Thoughts of gods and men, pity and pitilessness. "Thank you, Spicy HG." The name still felt awkward on her tongue, and it showed in her enunciation. "What is this?" It felt familiar, somehow. The crystals radiated the sort of aura that she associated with other gods. Her own was slightly different, tainted as it was after all this time, but not so much so as to be appreciably divergent from the norm.

Mitsuru shrugged. "Honestly? I didn't think it was real. But if someone's gonna pay for plane tickets to go see the entire world, then I'm not going to turn them down. It's a chance to get out and explore, you know? Plus, as much of a pain in the ass as Score can be sometimes, we're a pretty good team. Though it's a little scarier now that the prospect of people getting shot is on the table." Punctuating his point, he sent a glance or two in the direction of the nearby roads, suspicious. "Getting any sort of prize out of it is just a bonus."

"Ah, these? They're nothing! Glad to see more people here on our side, though. How fares the rest of the town?"

J8 Guard Anea

"Huh? Yeah, sure, I've just got to send Score on some errands." Truth be told, he wasn't sure it was a good idea to be traveling around right now. Wasn't it supposed to be hard to get guns at all in Britain, or something? This trip was rapidly ratcheting up the sketch factor, that was for sure. Still, he was more excited to explore than nervous, so he sent Score off to the local net while he ate dinner. Score purchases: HP Memory Attack+1 Charge+1 AutoRecover

"That's good to hear. It's been a while since I sat and talked with someone like this, myself, 'less you count the last time I met up with your group." She giggled a bit at the thought. "And this time nobody exploded. It's not usually this peaceful." She frowned momentarily. "Well, for a certain definition of peaceful, we are in the middle of a war zone." Her expression returned to an easy smile, with a blend of curiosity. "Anyway. LOTUS is uh, the talking tablet thing right? I'm not sure how compatible the two systems would be, but who knows? Maybe some of the principles are transferable. I suppose I should look a little more into astral projection, too, always kind of ignored it. . . Sorry, it's an interesting problem. It really is nice to talk to you, and even better to hear that you've enjoyed it too."

Lucine thought for a moment. Lovestruck space cowboys? Strictly speaking, she didn't have any aunts or uncles, unless you counted the Justeaze model homunculi; the girl guessed those counted as aunts, in a way. In another way, the other Yggdmillenia mages were a sort of extended family, but she couldn't think of any that really counted as cowboys off the top of her head. And, of course, none of them were space travelers or anything. "Uhh, no." An idea occurred to her. "Unless I'm his great great great great grandma or somethin', I guess." She'd already been to one place that seemed to be a possible future of her own world, what's to say this ship wasn't from another. "What's Char?"

Lyssa simply let out a loud, wordless battle cry, leaping at the Grimm and continuing to pummel it with her metal fists. There would be time to contemplate the horror of what she'd just witnessed later. Attack the Talking Grimm.

Myrdwyn gave the orb a dubious look. She wasn't normally one for hesitation. . . in general, really, but this was damn suspicious. Still, she figured that if there was enough hazardous mystical bullshit about, Cadence would probably say something about it, along with a note about how it reminded her of her great uncle that turned into a zombie or something. She moved over to the orb, creeping toward it as if it were a dangerous animal, and then snatched it off the table. Assuming nothing immediately unpleasant happened, she headed downstairs toward the equally sketchy convoy man.

T9 Wind

R8 Wind Mercadier to T7, attack, and return to his starting position

Lucine pouted a bit at the suggestion. It was already giving away all kinds of stuff for free, why would it take away her cool new bike? "I think it'll be fine," she said. Lacking any particular reason to stay out here now that she'd broken her news, and wanting to ogle the bike a bit more, she headed back inside. Once there, after taking a good look and taking a few brief moments to actually, you know, start to figure out what the controls do, a thought occurred to her. "Hey, um, Tiffany?" She wasn't sure if the ship could actually hear or respond to her wherever she was, but it was worth a shot. "Um, remind me what the current mission is."

Lucine glanced at Ena's frame, and the space she was occupying presently. She stopped what she was about to say - "Come and look" - due to the obvious geometric issue, and chose a different approach. "The ship thought I was some guy named Jim Raynor, and it gave me this hoverbike thing. I guess it's what he rode around on when he wasn't flying around in spaceships, or something." That was a slightly sad thought. Heroic Spirits were supposed to be from the past - that meant that he was probably dead. Someone older and differently minded might have called it poetic, tragic, or some combination thereof.

Concerning. Deeply concerning. "Confirm, please." Was that even possible? There had to have been a grave error made somewhere, or maybe the Resanti were getting clever, trying to spook people, dummying up a ship to trick sensors into picking it up as more threatening than it really was. It would definitely be a blow to morale - as seen very clearly in what was happening right now - if it were to appear at the edge of the system, even if it didn't fire a single shot. "Both aspects, withdrawal and Resanti possession of the Southern Cross." Her voice remained steady, for the moment. "Can it be verified that it is the vessel in question and not a falsified signature?"

". . . Huh. Thank you . . . ?" Commander Raynor, that meant he was in charge of this thing, right? If that was his preferred vehicle, that explained why he was a Rider, at least. Maybe the card would allow her to use it? She couldn't deny that it looked a bit tempting. A small part of her told her that a twelve-year-old girl (or technically six, but she was the former in every way that mattered) like herself had no real business operating some kind of advanced future hoverbike, but that part was by and large being shouted down by the part of her that said that would be awesome and she was magic so she could do what she wanted. She considered trying to drive the thing out of there for a moment, before electing to simply guide it toward the door she'd come in at; if she barely fit, the bike(?) probably wouldn't. That done, she poked her head out of the vessel and waved at the others. "I found something cool! I think Law is figuring something out too."

Karsten And with that, the gun was uncocked, twirled a bit, and shoved back into its holster. "Good, glad we got that straight. I ain't here for you, so you've got my word that I won't turn on ya. . . unless you're stupid enough to give me a reason, of course. With that said, answer the nice lady's question, would you?" Certainly. Got a couple phone calls to make, but we can just take him back to where I've been staying. It ain't anywhere that special to me, though I do have to foot the bill if it gets wrecked. "Walk and talk," he said, with a wave indicating that Kazuki was to follow him. He was headed back in the direction he'd came, and as he did so he punched out a message on a cell phone. He'd had a couple thoughts on who he could get ahold of. . . it'd require calling in a couple old favors, but the payoff would be well worth it.

Lucine shrugged. Best way to find out was to just test it and see what happened. She pinned down Opal for a moment, extracted her current Include, and slotted in this "Jim Raynor" card. She wondered how that felt occasionally; she didn't feel much of the transition herself, since the abilities were sort of dormant until she actually activated Opal. . . but then, some of them definitely had effects when she wasn't transformed, too. I really need to just open up Opal sometime and figure out how it works. . . The box, despite not having any facial expressions or ability to read Lucine's thoughts, still looked concerned; it wasn't often Lucine looked at it with the curious look she gave, say, a unique and unfamiliar firearm. That done, she slipped into the ship, having nothing better to do and being largely unchaperoned. "Did you guys find anything? Maybe something about a, um, 'Jim Raynor?' I think he's important to this ship, somehow."

Kyou decided that now would be the best time to strike, as Asuka was occupied with throwing her teammates about. She approached as quickly and quietly as she could (not that the latter was entirely feasible given she was in some sort of giant death machine) and tried to go for a hit on one of Unit 02's limbs, attempting to cripple its ability to defend itself.

Score visits Prog and then jacks out.

"Um, I don't remember the exact, um details. You put your design into a computer, and the Diviner, um, sticks you with needle that draws out some of your Favor. Then once the design is um, calibrated, they put it back in and this makes the changes to your mech. Something about turning, um, nerve signals into Favor and back." It felt a bit awkward trying to explain the technology; she'd never had a particularly firm grasp on how it worked, always being more concerned with the engineering aspect of mech ombat. She could give a detailed rundown of how all of the systems in the Knight functioned, but she didn't want to admit that she didn't have a particularly solid grasp on how the Favor was actually manifested. "It's, um. . . it does physically exist, and it's stored in um, your mind, but it is made out of Favor." The non-answer would have to do; she wasn't honestly sure whether Gozer was correct or not. It was a bit of both, really.

Kusuke frowned. It worked well enough, that wasn't the issue; really, he was surprised he got it worked out as well as he did, with how faintly he thought he'd remembered how to do so. However, there was one rather glaring oversight he'd made, and he really wondered how he'd managed it. An off switch was generally something that was fairly important. . . Still, there were better engineers about than him. He was sure Satomi could use the power source anyway, so he tucked the thing under one arm and made his way back in her direction, resisting the urge to simply teleport over there; the motor was rather awkward to carry around, to say the least.

Karsten and Assassin It wasn't long before the sound of boots echoed from nearby, heralding Karsten's arrival. His gun was already trained on Kazuki - a revolver, marked here and there with inlaid symbols of what were probably magical in nature. Big frame, but not so large that it was difficult to handle. Not that Kazuki could likely make out much detail, other than possibly the rifling inside the barrel. "Well now, this isn't what I expected at all. I'd say this was some sort of karma, but that ain't exactly proportional retribution." The cigar kid? He barely would have figured him for a mage, let alone a Master in this war. He'd have to make sure to keep his guard up better going forward, if someone as innocuous as him could be one. "Now, I ain't gonna waste time. Here's the deal. You point your Servant at the ones I need to kill. I keep you alive. You use two Command Seals, the third one goes to killing your Servant. That happens, you get to go home." He cocked the weapon, the hammer pulling back and the cylinder placing a bullet at the ready. "I ain't particularly interested in killin' you, but I won't hesitate if you try anythin'. Got all that?" His tone remained almost leisurely through the whole thing, but it took a lower, harsher mode with that last - as if the implied threat wasn't enough already.