Λbsence

[sun.]

And so it begins...​

The sky was beaming in a vibrant blue, devoid of clouds as far as the eye could see. A picture perfect day, as if sampled from a picture book, alleviating any and all worries, if only for a moment. The island of Basar Stitch had been a refugee for the lawless but ethical for a long time, and it mirrored its population's recklessness, daring, and unwavering righteousness. The market place buzzed with life, with stout men loudly bartering with one another, crews toasting each other, bashing their mugs together, and the brimming wildlife, hiding away inside the lush jungle towards the center of the island, letting their faint calls be heard.

A cluster of people had began to form in the middle of the inner city, in front of the building of the mayor. A make-shift stage had been built, atop of which stood the mayor--a short man, with an almost bulbous build, which was covered only by a poorly closed button-up shirt with floral patterns. His tiny, round head was largely covered by his profuse facial hair, and a sort of bowler made of straw, but his bushy brows were furrowed so much that it appeared to stand out even behind the brim of his hat. Next to him was a line of soldiers, clad in white, all of them with perfect posture. Spearheaded by a man with a mohawk hairstyle and shaved sides, a sharply-cut goatee, and a murderous look on his face.

"Isn't that..."
"I'm pretty sure that's Herbaro!"
"THE Herbaro?"
"What would someone like him do here?"
"Are we in danger?"
"Maybe someone big made it to the island?"​

The crowd erupted in worried murmur, and a stream of people began to leave the vicinity, most of them trying not to stand out, trying not to attract much attention. The man that crowd was fixating on, Herbaro, sat on a small wooden stool, his long arms dangling down without any apparent tension, and his squinted eyes glared across the crowd, until, finally, the mayor cleared his throat, attracting a few glances for himself.

"Dear citizens and travelers! As you all know, our government has elected to send a delegation to our beautiful island for, ahem, our protection, and the safety the people of Thalassa!"

As the crowd began their hushed but clearly panicked conversations, trying to listen to each other as well as the mayor's speech, a young woman with blue hair sauntered from the edges of the jungle, her arms and hands behind her head, and a wide grin on her face. Her tongue swiped across her lips once, then once more, and then her expression changed into one of curious caution, as she snuck closer to the crowd, taking a spot to the lift of the last row of people in attendance.

"So to wrap it up, it is for that reason, MAGNA has sent Mister Herbaro to apprehend Vargo and..." he paused, looking over to the man known as Herbaro and his entourage, before clearing his throat again. "...and make sure everything is in order."

Immediately, the silenced speech of the crowd rose to an incredible volume. Confused exclamations drowned one another out.

"WHAT?!"
"What do they with Vargo?"
"Vargo? The shipwright?"​

Herbaro now stood up, his cold gaze surveying the crowd for a moment, before he lifted his left hand, and stuck his thumb and middlefinger in between his lips, whistling loud enough to overshadow the babbling crowd, silencing it completely.

"I'll make it real simple. We're not interested in small fish today. Don't get in the way of the investigation, and answer our questions, and we're willing to ignore whoever else we might... recognize. This is not a free pass, so don't test our patience. Now get back to whatever you're up to. This is all."

His voice sounded bored, but a predatory snarl lingered in every word, sending a chill down the crowd's spines, as they quickly thinned out, leaving only a few on-lookers behind. Herbaro and his men left the stage, retreating inside the mayor's office.

The young woman had listened to each word with great attention, biting her lower lip, and chewing on it in deep thought.

"Well... Guess I'll just have to find the old dude before them!" she deduced with a smirk, giggling to herself.

 

[Jakers]

JAMAL LAJARA
><><><><><><><
​

Basar Stitch. A short stop in his blind wandering. A short stop with - from what he'd heard - some promise of freedom. It was a place where many criminals took time to lay low, and whilst it was rare for a place to be truly out of the control of MAGNA, maybe this would be a place where he wouldn't have to watch his every footstep, wondering if people would report him to the authorities.

Because as things stood, Jamal Lajara was a man far away from 'freedom'. Wearing little but a simple pair of shorts and sandals, his slim yet muscular chest of dark skin was exposed, spare clothes and other simple supplies packed into a small sack he held over his shoulder. A cluster of long, black, surprisingly well-kept dreadlocks hung from the back of his head, and a pair of simple black shades obscured the young man's eyes. With only a fistful of Merits carefully stuffed into his pockets, hunting for the cheapest essentials money could buy was a must.

He'd been in Basar Stitch for two days now, trading what little Merits he had for the cheapest food he could find, bathing in the sea when nobody was looking, sleeping alone on the quietest spot on the island's beaches when night fell. Living like a tramp was bearable at first, but he needed something at this point, or he was going to lose his mind. A job... even if he could just work as a fisherman, anything would do. So far, though, looking for such work bore little fruit.

Today, however, Jamal had come to learn that this place wasn't as free of MAGNA control as he'd thought.

First, people had began to flock towards the center of the city. Out of curiosity, whilst Jamal was usually one avoid crowds, he'd joined the masses to see what the ruckus was about. And as soon as he found the source of the uproar, he'd wished he hadn't. A Sentinel - fucking Herbaro - was right there, in the middle of the city.

As soon as he'd seen the man, Jamal thought he was done for. The crowd too packed for him to run, he hurriedly pulled a bandana over his mouth and kept low, using the cover of the crowd to hope he - a man worth almost twenty million in Merits - wouldn't be spotted.

But, as things turned out, the circumstances of a Sentinel being here were very... different... from what he was expecting.

~ ~ ~
​

...Vargo? He hadn't been in this place long, but as soon as the name was thrown into the crowd, it seemed to reflect from person to person, each utterance of the name induced with more panic than the last. What, a local badass, or something? Someone who was just generally adored?

Eyes snapping towards the Sentinel under his sunglasses, a sharp whistle cut down the noise into silence. Despite the little remark about 'small fish' being ignored, Jamal wasn't buying it. MAGNA wouldn't turn up their nose at snagging some bounties while they were here, especially with Herbaro on the scene.

Only when the feared Sentinel was fully out of sight did Jamal leave the cover of the surrounding crowd, pulling his thick bandana back down from mouth and around his neck. Chatter was still residing about the whole 'Vargo' thing even after they'd left. Vargo, Vargo, Vargo… just who the damn was he or she, exactly? Jamal wasn't the sort who liked to be left in the dark, especially when he saw opportunity: Opportunity to give another middle finger to half the reason he'd lost almost everything.

Looking around, Jamal grunted for the attention of a random member of the crowd.
"Oy." the dreadlock-bearing man's voice was low and quiet, yet sharp - laced with a faint accent. Tapping the back of the stranger, he kept his words brief. "Arrived not long ago. Why's a whole town worked up about some... 'Vargo'?"

A haggard-looking man, not much older than Jamal, turned around, his face quickly turning several shades paler. His mouth curled into an involuntary smile, as he repositioned himself, his posture reeking of mistrust.
"Some… Vargo?", he echoed, half scoffing, half laughing. "Are you pulling me leg?" He shuffled where he stood, looking Jamal up and down. "You must be the greenest greenhorn around to ask that."

Not much of a reaction came from the dark-skinned man, the stranger's reflection mixing with the sun's rays in his sunglasses. A slight tone of irritation came in his reply.
"Probably am the 'greenest'; who cares. Gonna answer or what?"

Nervously licking over his lips, the man scanned him once more, then gave a relaxing shrug. "So… you're serious?" A sigh escaped his lips, before he leered over Jamal's shoulder, towards the townhall.
"Well… I can't believe I have to explain this… Vargo is the greatest shipwright in the world! In the history of Rogues, if you ask me, but you know… Some might disagree with that. He knew the secrets of ships of the greatest emperors, they say. Supposedly, he has the blueprints for Kol's ships! Kol's!" The man's cheeks turned a tad red in his excited rant, as he stretched out his arms in sheer amazement. "It looks like his punishment is coming though… If MAGNA really wants him so bad they're even sending Herbaro after him… I can't say I like his chances all that much."

Silently taking in the information, the young man supposed news of such a famed figure had never been spread to a place like Jaruud. Nonetheless, more and more of that feeling of 'opportunity' seemed to be building up. A makeshift plan was beginning to come together, but before he thought deeply about anything, he still needed to validate a few things.
"...The guy actually do anything wrong? Like… wrong wrong?" Jamal paused, eyes settling for a moment in which Herbaro had left. "If not, a guy like that getting locked up seems like a waste. ...Might be able to do something about it."

The man chuckled.
"Depends what you consider wrong, I s'pose. Is building and upgrading the ships of the greatest and most powerful Rogues in the world 'wrong wrong'? Lock him up, and Rogues all over Ocean Peak take a hit, ya know?" He eyed the townhall again. "Vargo is a good man. A free man. But he stands in the way of MAGNA's… justice."

It didn't really sound 'wrong' to Jamal at all. The guy just sounded like he was trying to make a living. If he was a 'good man', then the final sensation of 'opportunity' he felt was more than enough for the rogue to want to take action.

"...Then I'll see if he can stay a 'free man'." Jamal paused, before pulling his fingers up to his sunglasses, tilting them down to look at the haggard stranger with golden-brown eyes. "One more thing. Maybe it sounds shady from a 'greenhorn', but I want you to trust me. Does anyone know where this guy is?" He paused, glancing at whatever shitty 'investigation' MAGNA was brewing. Vargo was probably on the run if a Sentinel was on his tail.

The man scratched his chin, thinking.
"Not really. I mean, he has a house in the jungle, but I'd be surprised if he hasn't prepared for MAGNA by now. He's a wise man, after all. He might not even be on this island anymore."

Jamal figured he'd be long gone as soon as he'd heard word of a Sentinel; anyone in their right mind would be. He'd only heard things about what people like Herbaro could do.

The young man pulled the sunglasses back over his eyes.
"Thanks for your time."

~ ~ ~
​

So that was that, then. He still needed more information, but if he could bust this 'Vargo' out of a sticky situation in time before MAGNA got there first, there came the opportunity of all sorts of things. Merits as a reward. Some sort of positive reputation amongst the visitors, if the shipwright was so beloved. But there were risks. Risks - at this point - he was willing to take.

If his power wasn't so suited to helping people get away, he wouldn't have even considered such an idea, but it was now or never. He could act now, or risk the chance of living on a 'bare minimum' for the rest of his life.

Deep in his thoughts, there was suddenly a female voice in the chatter that seemed to pierce through the air of chatter and stand out to the young man.

"Well... Guess I'll just have to find the old dude before them!"

Processing the words said for a moment, Jamal's eyes slowly trailed in the direction the voice came from. ...Did he hear that right? Was someone else seriously thinking along the same crazy - perhaps suicidal - track as he was?

It didn't take long for him to find the source of the voice. She was alone, and a lot closer to him in the crowd than he'd originally noticed... and with her appearance being what it was, it was a mystery why she hadn't stuck out to him in the crowd until now. Tall, with a long bunch of pastel-blue hair put in some strange style that almost made his own hairstyle look kind of normal.

Judging by how she quietly talked and giggled to herself... she seemed kind of weird. Usually the sort of person Jamal would keep a long distance from. But he simply couldn't ignore what she'd said. If he was understanding things right, he wasn't the only one with plans to liberate or warn 'Vargo'.

...Am I really just gonna go up and talk to some weirdo of a stranger... about some stupid idea that might not even work?

The young man paused for a moment in thought. With not many other options, and with the coincidence of a girl having the same idea as him being too rare to ignore, he knew the answer to his own question. If he didn't ask her about anything, then he'd basically be 'racing' her to this dude. And if she knew more than he did, even with the power of 'Thunder Road' at his side, his chances were pretty slim.

...Guess I really am.

Taking a brief, deep breath, Jamal slowly worked his way through the crowd. Inconspicuously as possible, he stopped behind and to the side of the girl. He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, before quietly saying a sentence without making eye contact.

"...And you'd know where to find an old dude like that?"

A pause, before he elaborated with as little words as possible.

"Maybe I'm thinking along the same lines as you. And maybe... unless you want to race... such a crazy idea isn't best done solo." He pulled down his sunglasses, steaming them up with his breath, before rubbing them with the back of his hand. "...Get what I'm saying?"

Saying such things to someone he'd never met felt shady as hell. But, to be honest, he was desperate for some sort of... job, legal or not, and he wasn't stupid enough to think he could do it alone.

 

[Warm Regret]

A light glaze of sweat appeared on his brow, which he promptly wiped away with the back of his hand. Finally, he had a moment to breathe. He had just finished setting up all the tables for the day at the establishment where he was fortunate enough to find part time work. The bar was known affectionately by the locals as the Rusty Anchor. The young man with cornflower blue hair, wore his navy blue trousers and a simple white button up shirt. The sleeves were rolled back to signify he was prepared for some hard work. The owner of the bar, who was a large but solid man with tan skin and hair in places he probably shouldn't, called to Peri from behind the bar. "Periwinkle…" He said while tightening the red and white bandanna that concealed the only part of his body not covered in hair. "Bring out the metal trays from the back room and then you can take a 15 minute break." He concluded while turning his attention to a close friend now seated at the bar. "Yes Sir." Peri replied respectfully and proceeded to dig out the trays he was asked to retrieve prior to taking his break.

While in the back room, Periwinkle recounted how he had arrived in Basar Stitch. The sky was full of stars that night and a cool ocean breeze tugged at the blue scarf around his neck, the color of his namesake. After leaving the Munsell Family home, he didn't have many options. He was forced to hop on the first available ship that would allow him passage, for the little money he had in his possession. Upon docking at Basar Stitch, he immediately noticed how different it was from Avinos. It definitely wasn't as clean as his home town and the jungles surrounding the area didn't seem too inviting. Keeping to himself for safety purposes, he wondered the town freely. He had next to nothing left in his possession, so he didn't feel the need to be overly cautious of thieves and pickpockets. Upon finding the main market place, he proceeded to ask around for work until he was directed to the owner of the Rusty Anchor. The work was hard and the pay was small but at least it gave him a purpose and a means to support himself, until he could figure out what his next steps would be.

Emerging from the back room with a few stacks of heavy metal trays in hand, he stopped just before moving out of the hallway and into the common sitting area. It was the ambient sound of two people having a conversation that caused him to take pause. A private discussion was taking place between his employer and his employer's friend, whom Periwinkle also did odd jobs for. "So how's the newcomer working out for you?" Asked Sal, the owner of the bar. "Pretty damn good. Thanks for sending him my way." His friend Gogo replied with an unsettling laugh. Gogo was a slim man perhaps a few years older than Sal. His hair was completely gray, as was the beard covering the lower part of his face. "He does the work of 3 people and I barely pay him anything." Gogo replied, with the same shifty laugh. Sal smirked in response. "You really shouldn't take advantage of the kid." The bar owner said with hollow concern. "Don't give me that Sal, it's not like you aren't doing the same thing." Gogo retorted, to which Sal replied with phony remorse. "Yeah, I guess you caught me." Followed by a laugh of his own.

Disconcerted by what he had heard, Peri accidentally dropped the metal trays with a loud *BANG* and immediately fell to the floor to scoop them up. "Pe…Periwinkle?" Said a surprised Sal, unable to hide his embarrassment as he moved into the hallway. Peri however, chose to pretended not to have heard his employer's conversation and quickly collected the metal trays before placing them on the counter. "I…I'm sorry about that. I really like this job…is it alright if I take my break now?" The blue haired boy asked behind a bruised smile. Sal nodded slowly to his request. "Y..yeah…" Peri quickly grabbed his jacket and left the establishment, deciding to take a short walk to clear his head. He wasn't a fool, he realized that he was being taken advantage of but at the same time what other choice did he have? He could either survive on pennies or starve on his pride. From what he'd witnessed as the son of a MAGNA official, it was the government that showed the most egregious abuse of power towards those unable to fend for themselves but apparently, the little guy wasn't always so innocent.

Eventually, he found himself wandering into a large crowd. At first, he wasn't interested in what was happening and tried to make his way through the sea of people but he picked up on the words of the island's mayor and it caused him to stop and pay attention. Apparently, a Sentinel from MAGNA was there looking for Vargo. Peri knew who Vargo was through chats with his father. He was immediately sympathetic with the target and hoped the man would escape before being apprehended but he also knew who Herbaro was, so there's a chance he was rooting for the loosing side. When the crowd began to disperse, Peri took note of a few people still there. Two of which were Vivahoja and Jamal, however they were just faces in a crowd of people he didn't know. He stood among them for a while before moving over to a railing near the docks. Resting his arms on the metal support rail, he looked out at the ocean and sky which seemed to stretch on forever. He watched as the sun created diamonds on the water's surface and seagulls called to each other from over head. Leaning into the breeze carried in off the ocean as the cool sea air filled his sense of smell, he continued to stare out into the great expanse. It was almost as if he were waiting for a sign about what he should do but when nothing happened, he decided he should probably start heading back to the Rusty Anchor...but now that the crowd had thinned out, he could pick up on bits and pieces of a conversation that he probably shouldn't have.

 

[Finhawk]

|| Taipale Kallain ||​

The previous evening, Kallain had thought he was done with Basar Stitch. He had resided on the island for a while now, snooped around the streets of the city, scoured the marketplace and every shop he could find thoroughly, wandered off to the jungle against better judgement and wandered back out with all limbs attached, and he had drawn his map. Said piece of paper now resided safely tucked away in his smooth light brown messenger bag at his side. His other 'souvenir' from Basar Stitch was currently on his left wrist, an iron bracelet with a six-petaled flower made out of small red gems embedded on it. It was cute and completely worth every merit he had paid for it, even though he had to admit his pockets were starting to grow a bit too light when it came to merits. He was in need of an ancient ruin with valuable artifacts untouched still within. Or more likely a temporary job, those are usually a bit easier to find. He had planned on searching for either of the options elsewhere after hitching a ride wherever on a departing ship.

However, that plan came to a screeching halt that morning. Kallain had been on his way to the docks with his belongings neatly packed in a duffel bag he was carrying slung over his shoulder, mindful of the shield secured against his back with a leather strap running across his chest. With the messenger bag slung over his shoulder as well, the man was lugging quite a bit of stuff around. It was truly a shame he couldn't carry more clothes around with him however. In addition to the clean white button-up shirt with rolled up sleeves, light blue vest, and the darker blue pants he was currently wearing, he only had room for too few additional get-ups. The clothes he couldn't buy due to lack of room in his bag or the lack of merits and the ones he had to discard because of wear and tear were truly a tragedy.

As he had been mourning over clothes on his journey to the docks, a snippet of a conversation he had overheard made him stop dead in his tracks, a momentary shock taking over his features as the newly acquired information sunk in.

"You know, I heard a sentinel's coming here."
"Oh come on, you think I'd buy obvious bullshit like that?"
"It's not bullshit! I heard it from a reliable source."
"You mean your crazy uncle?"
"He's not crazy!"

The surprise upon hearing such a claim melting away from his face, Kallain closed the small distance between himself and the young man and woman now bickering about whether the man's uncle was crazy or not. Which must've been a very interesting conversation as well, but Kallain interrupted it as he came to a stop beside them with a small disarming smile on his face.

"I'm terribly sorry to barge in on you like this but I couldn't help but overhear you just now. May I ask whether you're certain of this information about a sentinel arriving here?"

As the words flowed out of Kallain's mouth, the pair directed curious and slightly cautious looks at him as they gave him an once-over before glancing at each other again. That's when the brunette man, a fair bit shorter than Kallain, crossed his arms confidently as he addressed the intruder, his tone of voice leaving no question about how sure of his statement he was.

"It's true, I swear it on my grandma's dog's grave!"

Whether that made the young man's claim any more believable or not was up for debate, but there was no way Kallain was going to leave now when there was a chance the man's words were true. You don't get many chances to see a sentinel in the flesh and Kallain was not about to miss it. He was in no particular hurry to anywhere, he could easily stay in Basar Stitch another day.

- - -​

And that is how Kallain ended up in front of the makeshift stage, his eyes fixated on the mohawked man. Standing among the rest of the crowd, Kallain observed Herbaro's body language and any possible shifts of expression with slightly narrowed eyes but an otherwise neutral expression. He barely gave a glance to the mayor as he spoke or let the chatter of the crowd disturb his focus as he watched the sentinel that had been sent to grace the island with his presence rather closely. Perhaps a bit too closely, weirdly so, if anyone noticed the white-haired man's stare.

But in Kallain's defense: Holy mother of seagulls! An actual sentinel, Herbaro, right there, so damn close.

It was a rare opportunity to see a man like that in person so Kallain kept his eyes on Herbaro up until the mention of Vargo. The loud chatter that stirred in the rest of the crowd drew Kallain's attention and he broke his stare to let his eyes silently survey the onlookers closest to him, catching confused and worried exclamations here and there among the indecipherable noise as the people's loud words blended together. What little he had heard of this Vargo during his stay on the island wasn't really much to go on but it was quite surprising and unusual for a shipwright of all people to get a sentinel put on his tail, especially since it didn't seem like he actually deserved it. Though Kallain was far from possessing enough information on the situation to make judgments on who was right and who was wrong. Or maybe there was no right or wrong, things don't tend to be that black and white.

Kallain was then pulled from his thoughts as a loud whistle pierced through the crowd, snapping everyone's attention back to the stage. The onlookers now silent, Herbaro's words rang clear, the unsettling undertone of his voice cutting into the crowd and Kallain was no exception. There was something about that voice that put him on edge. He tensed slightly and shifted on his feet, the feeling betraying his neutral expression for a minute as his brows furrowed in a small, somewhat animalistic, instinct of fear before he managed to suppress it.

MAGNA was necessary for order and keeping those rogues in line as best as that was even possible. But was it really that hard for them to not come off as unlikeable creepoes?

Whatever the case was, their little announcement done, the mayor and his 'guests' retreated to his office and most of the gathered crowd seemed to follow their example of leaving, the area beginning to clear out rather quickly. Kallain stayed where he was a while longer, near the front of the stage as he thought on this turn of events. Adjusting the grip of his duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder with his left hand, he brought his right hand to cover his mouth thoughtfully as his gaze lingered on the door through which the mayor and Herbaro had disappeared just a moment ago. But a mere door didn't hold his interest for long so, with a small turn of his body, Kallain's eyes quickly scanned the remaining people now that the area had cleared a bit.

What caught his attention was a man on the shorter side of things. Though, despite his height, this guy was definitely no push-over if the noticeable muscle was anything to go by. What struck out the most to Kallain, however, were the dreadlocks and the distinctive lightning bolts decorating the hairstyle that he could just make out across the distance between himself and the rather young looking lad. Kallain was sure that he recognized the dark-skinned youngster from somewhere but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Kallain kept his eyes on this stranger as the guy moved through the remaining crowd with ease before coming to a stop beside a taller blue-haired woman sporting a rather unconventional way of tying up her hair. It looked quite inconvenient, not to mention long hair had a habit of getting in the way of things to begin with, but he had to admit it didn't look half bad on her. And he wasn't exactly allowed to make judgments of people on how practical their choices of appearances were, considering he didn't exactly follow any unwritten rules of practicality himself.

The two people's appearances aside, it seemed they were... up to something. It wasn't like Kallain was standing beside them so he couldn't hear a word of whatever was being spoken between them. However, considering what has just been told to them, it was easy to guess what the topic of their conversation most likely was. If they were really scheming something or just making innocent small talk was still up in the air and Kallain wasn't about to be too quick to stick his nose into anything that involved a sentinel. You'd have to be a grade A fool to do so or at least slightly suicidal and Kallain liked to think he was neither.

However, if he just ignored this all, it would bother him the rest of his life, he just knew it. He was curious of this Vargo and his 'crimes'. Maybe he was also hoping he'd get to see what Herbaro was actually capable of as well if he kept a close eye on things, even if hoping such things did sound more than just a bit dangerous and idiotic. Curiosity might've killed the cat but maybe it wouldn't kill Kallain.

So, after giving another quick sidelong glance at the mayor's office, Kallain returned his contemplative eyes on the pair with a spark of curiosity as he gave a small hum under his breath. Obscured by his hand, just a hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he spoke to himself quietly then, "Perhaps I should stay a while longer after all..."

 

[Giltine13]

♦ Kuroyuki Kaito ♦​

A half dead bar with only old or drunk, or both, guys was the last place Kaito wanted to be in. But the ship he was sailing on had to make a stop on Basar Stitch for a few days to restock their supplies and do some other business he could care less about. That left Kaito with three days worth of time to kill and, sadly enough, the only recollection of the island he had from his past visits was this pathetic bar with rather bad drinks. One of those infamous drinks he was currently swirling around in its glass without any intentions of washing the liquid down his throat.

"What? No longer like it?" The slightly annoyed voice made Kaito glance at the bartender, who doubled as the owner of this poor establishment. While the man was much older than him, he hardly looked it and had no trouble personally kicking out any unfortunate troublemakers that got on his nerves. By some kind of miracle, Kaito has managed to avoid getting on the said list, but his luck was due to run out at some point.
"The atmosphere is all wrong, nowhere near as fun as last time…" Kaito grunted, fixing his hood slightly to keep the pair of ears he was sprouting out of sight. At that the bartender gave a weak shrug, picking up a dirty glass to wipe with an even dirtier rag, "Well, it's your fault for not bringing in that rowdy crowd of no-goods with you. Don't think anyone else makes that much noise around here."

Kaito only hummed as he pushed away his glass and rested his head on top of his crossed arms. The irritating ears refused to stop picking up random tidbits of useless conversations all over the bar and it was starting to give him a headache of sorts. So far, the whole day was absolutely terrible and left him craving for a good distraction. Luckily, before Kaito could throw the glass off the counter and provoke a shouting contest to cure his boredom, a small group of men burst through the door buzzing with nervous energy. They came over to order their drinks, so Kaito poked his nose around their business. And dang, it was like dam got broken. They went about some kind of mayor's announcement, throwing in names like Herbaro and Vargo. For the most part Kaito sort of got the gist of things: this Herbaro was a Sentinel (dang, he should work on remembering those guys before it comes to bite him in the ass) sent here to fetch 'poor' Vargo… He could've sworn he knew the name from somewhere, yet the memory kept slipping past his fingers.

Once the men went off to a side table to continue their heated discussion, the bartender turned back to Kaito, "Don't see why that lots so worried – they're honest men. You, on the other hand, probably should turn tail before the Sentinel sees you."
Kaito stared at him for a moment, then screeched an "Oh no!" and slapped a hand on his cheek, eyes wide and mouth open in horror, "I'm already shitting in my boots!" Not a second after he threw his head back in laughter, a hand holding onto his hood, "Do you honestly think they'd bother with a small fry like me? Is it a requirement for Sentinels to know every single bounty poster that was ever made?"
"I'm pretty sure just your face is a big enough offense to land you a pair of cuffs," The older man scoffed. Instead of a retort, Kaito just doubled in another fit of giggles. In all honesty, he was certain that the only thing he had to worry about was Herbaro catching a glimpse of his shitty curse – a blaring sign he deserved an arrest. But besides that he considered himself safe and sound.

After that, silence stretched between them and his curious ears started roamimg again, this time focusing on the arguing newcomers. They tossed back and forth the reasons for Vargo's arrest or innocence and one happened to mention the guy's profession – a shipwright. Wait a minute, a shipwright? A SHIPWRIGHT! That's how he knew the guy; he was the famous shipwright Boss and Tricow talked about. Kaito couldn't help the grin spreading over his face – this could be the perfect opportunity to land him a decent job. Sure, he was sailing the seas for that offer to lung around boxes in and out of ships, but what's that to actually building ones? If he could find this Vargo before MAGNA did and do him a solid, he'd have a debt to Kaito. If he didn't make it, this whole run shouldn't take more than three days so he could just continue with his ride like nothing happened. A perfect plan.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to know where I can find your dear Vargo, now would you?" Kaito hopefully batted his eyes at the bartender. In response, the older man heaved a sigh, already knowing this won't end well, "Rumor goes, he has a place in the jungle," at that, Kaito's nose immediately crunched up in disgust and he stuck out his tongue.
"C'mon, it's not that bad," The man laughed, finally setting the polished glass down and picking up another one. Kaito wasn't very happy with the answer, much too broad for his liking, but he'd have to make due and just search the place. Better not waste anymore time if he hoped to help out this guy.
He quickly stood up, throwing his bag over his shoulder while the bartender stared him down, "You're not planning to leave before paying, right?" he warned and Kaito gave him his best grin, "Oh, don't you dare!"

But Kaito was already on his way, waving over his shoulder to the fuming bartender, "I love you too, old man! See ya soon!"

 

[Shavynel]

Dee looked up from her work, the sudden change in the crowd's buzz outside having interrupted her concentration. Out the window, she could make out the stage down the street, now occupied and with a bit of a gathering about it. She'd been watching since they first started piecing it together, hoping, as she always did, for a good show. It would've been just her luck to have rented this room. Second-story box seats to an outdoor theater!

Except... Tch. It was Herbaro.

She'd perhaps stay if he were storytelling, recounting adventures tales of capturing Rogues against all odds. It certainly would be different hearing it from MAGNA's point of view and possibly digestible even in the form of dry reports. But that seemed improbable. More likely, they were in store for a decree or someone being made a public example of or more of MAGNA's doctrines, none of which appealed much to Dee's sense of entertainment. And with no prospect of a show, there wasn't much point in staying longer, she supposed. Really, that minuscule tingle that Herbaro or his entourage might recognize her had nothing to do with her decision.

Still, she kept an ear open as she picked up the piece she'd been working on. One sleeve was half sewn on, and the other lay on the floor. Dee sighed. Basar Stitch had seemed like a bustling enough place for even her to keep out of notice long enough to get something more elaborate put together, something she hadn't had time to devote to in quite a while. So much for that. In one motion, Dee ripped off the sleeve, turning it into a vest. At least she had that much.

Wait.

Her head perked up again, one arm halfway through the armhole.

Had she just heard... Vargo?

Her brow furrowed, trying to place just where she'd heard the name before.

"Well, that was a vargo." Another attempt at using slang she hadn't quite figured out the meaning of.

"A ... what?" Another failure. It seemed like she was never going to get this one right.

But where had she heard it the first time?

A smile after a well-placed shot had sent the enemy ship aflame, faltering only when she could hear the first mate digging into her. "That was a Vargo! How could you do that? It was beautiful. A Vargo! I told you to be careful, you meathead..."

Well, that explained that at least. Dee slipped on the rest of the vest and grabbed her stuff, but the announcement caused her to turn toward the stage rather than away from it when it came time to step outside.

Don't care about small fries, huh? Well, in that case... the real question was how much did Vargo value not getting caught versus how much did MAGNA value cooperation?

The crowd was already dispersing. It was rather amazing how quickly the population had sunk back into its usual routine, though now with a nearly tangible extra little buzz. Still, a few stayed behind, and it was one of these contemplative individuals that she now pinpointed as a target to sidle up to.

"So," she started, taking a not-so-wild stab at the most relevant conversational topic, "You think MAGNA or someone else'll get to Vargo first?" A smile pulled at her lips, the name rolling off her tongue easily now that she knew just what it was.

 

[sun.]

Vivahoja opened her eyes, the confident smile slowly vanishing from her face, and her arms unlocking behind her head, as she turned to face the young man that had chatted her up.

"Hm?"

Judging by what she had seen during the past ten days she had spend on the island, he fit right in with the rest of the population, somehow riding the line between unassuming, law-abiding citizen, and wanted man; Which, on Basar Stitch, was unimpressive in and of itself. The impression tickled a series of neutral blinks out of Viva, who now tilted her head to the side,

"Well, if I knew where he was, and you don't, it wouldn't be much of a race, right? More like a chase." Her tongue slipped out, and lingered on the corner of her mouth, licking her lips. "If you were to chase me, that is." Her tongue quickly disappeared behind her teeth again, as she shot him a sudden smile--one that appeared within the blink of an eye. "But you're in luck! Or... out of luck, maybe. Depends on the point of view or something. I know where he lives; Or lived? I don't think he's still there... Aaand I don't know where he is right now, I'm afraid."

Tapping her foot, and resting her index finger on her chin, she looked Jamal up and down. "Crazy, mh?" she parroted, gnawing on her bottom lip. His proposal seemed a bit off. It lacked the urgency of a desperate man, but it somehow seemed... Well, off. It didn't click for a while, until he mouthed the last sentence. Get what I'm saying? Viva snorted, and looked down at the shorter man.

"Depends. Why do you wanna find him?" She grinned once again, before raising her hand, and extending her index finger into the air, as if to demand his attention. "I'll give you a hint: There's a couple of wrong and right answers here."

She did not wait for him to reply, however, and instead jumped where she stood, waiving towards a young man with blue hair. "Hey! You, over there!" She sauntered towards the young man, pulling Jamal along. "Hi there. I have a request, if it's alright?" she asked, likely more rhetorical than anything, before rubbing her hand, the one that appeared pitch-black, against the tip of her nose, leaving light, smudged stains on her skin. "Say, you know that there's a manhunt for the shipwright Vargo, right? Pretend you were to save the old guy, okay? You with me so far? Good. So, pretend now someone asked you where he was, and told you why he wanted to find him in the first place, got it? I want you to tell me what you think of my friend's reply yeah?"

Continuously gesturing, Viva eventually pointed towards Jamal, as if to put him in the spotlight, and fell quiet, an excited look lingering in her eyes.

A man clad in a trench coat put down his newspaper. Crumbs rolled out of it, suggesting that the rolled up paper held some sort of food; Greasy, presumably, as the paper is stained all over. The man himself appears habitually distressed. His jowls are sagging just a bit, and fine imprints of blood vessels color his skin red ever so slightly. The wrinkles under his eyes and the thin, greying hair somehow don't make him look particularly old, but rather harrowed and worried. Nodding to himself a few times, he stood up, and, with quick and vigorous strides, approached Kaito, just as the young man took his leave.

"'ello, lad."

His voice deep but meek, sounded as if the man was permanently sniffling. His vowels suppressed, somehow; The a's sounding flat and almost like e's.

"'The name's Wolf, friend."

Extending his right hand, an unhappy smile graced his face, one that, while clearly not genuine, still did not seem forced. Crooked teeth with a black tint peeked out from behind his lips, undeniably once suffering from caries or some other dental anomaly. His teeth, in all the wrong spots, left little doubt that this man has never had any sort of brace.

"'I'm looking for a man named Vargo. Of course, this appears quite common at this instance, but I must insist on the urgency. And, aaah..."

Pausing for a moment, the man named Wolf came closer, whispering almost. "'I could also use some man-power on my search, if you follow?"

With a casual motion, Mr. Wolf shook a small bag, from which coins sounded shamelessly.

"'Some hands on work, 's all."

 

[Jakers]

JAMAL LAJARA
><><><><><><><​

As the girl began to reply, Jamal kept his arms folded and his expression like a rock's. At least, he tried to, until the girl did a thing that low-key - okay, maybe mid-key - weirded him out a bit.

...Whhaat the [glow=gold]fuck[/glow] is [glow=red]that[/glow].

He couldn't help but look a tiny bit freaked out when he realized how freaking long the girl's tongue was. Watching her slowly lick her lips was kind of... horrifying. It was as if some sort of exotic, pinkish snake had crawled from her lips and was attempting an escape, only to get sucked up in the constraints of her mouth again.

...Thankfully, her wiggly-ass giraffe tongue didn't seem to make a re-appearance, which allowed Jamal to actually focus on what she was saying.

Of course, at first, she was suspicious of him. Anyone would be, of course, when he'd laid down some words that were misty & ambiguous. The two probably knew that just like how she was testing him, he was testing her. For all he knew, she could be in with MAGNA, or was looking to snuff out any competitors by saying out her previous sentence as 'bait'. The longer he examined the way she was sizing him up and talking to him, though, the more and more he doubted she was anyone... harmfully shady.

Then she asked a question; the sort he'd been waiting for: why he wanted to find 'Vargo'. Unfolding his arms, he looked the girl up and down for a moment, before he began to answer her question.
"Same reas--"

...?!

"--rggh..." Irritatingly, his sentence was abruptly cut off, an unimpressed grumble surfacing from the young man's studded lips as the stranger shouted and waved to some random person, and forcibly dragged him off towards this random dude. ...Why the hell would she ask him a question like that if she wasn't even going to wait to hear his answer?

He only tolerated the stranger's grip for a few moments before wiggling free, looking up at the strange girl with a confused/annoyed pout, before glancing towards the poor bloke she'd picked - probably randomly - from the dispersing crowd.

The dude seemed like he could barely even pass as an 'adult'. He had pale skin; a short mess of blue hair that was almost the same shade as hers. For a second, he thought she was her little brother or something, but judging by the stranger's confused look, no such relations existed. The guy seemed pretty tired out, and Jamal couldn't help but notice the guy seemed a little... sad. There was just some sort of weary look in his big, blue eyes that almost made Jamal pity the guy for a moment.

The hell was this girl asking this boy to do, exactly? Man... talk about an annoying way of sizing people up.

Turning his head, the dark-skinned man couldn't help but notice yet another weird-ass thing about the girl. When she wiped her nose, he left some sort of... oily mark on it. He thought she was wearing some sort of weird glove or sleeve at first, but now that he looked close, one of her arms was just... pitch black.
...The damn's wrong with her arm? She fish for coins in sludge barrels or something?

That aside, by the time she was done with her string of commands, Jamal was mentally cringing.
"Give me a break..." Jamal groaned under his breath as the girl pointed to him, rolling his eyes under his sunglasses. He turned his gaze behind him for a moment, as if he was pondering an exit, before looking at the weird girl's expectant, goofy-ass look. Then he gave a brief up-and-down look to the turquoise-haired boy, who was probably wondering what the hell was going on.

The young man gripped the hinges of his shades for a moment.

Fine... whatever. You win, lady.

"Look," Jamal began, not facing anyone in particular as he talked. "...I just value freedom. Real freedom. MAGNA don't know no such concepts, and Vargo sounds like talent. Talent shouldn't be forced to hide. You know?" Towards the end of his sentence, his voice that was usually low and dull spiked with some sort of passion; an array of dreads hanging steadily behind him as he looked into the distance, arms folded. "Some 'sentinel' don't phase me, 'specially if he's just as clueless as we are. If I knew where the old man was, I could beat Herbaro to Vargo ten times over."

Perhaps that was being overconfident - a quality he hated - which made him a hypocrite. But by now, he was confident in his 'ability'. It'd kept him - a man with virtually nothing - away from trouble when he had a bounty that could allow multiple people instant retirement, and a comfortable life.

He gave a stern glance back to long-tongued, black-armed woman, a speck of sunlight reflecting from his lip piercing.

"Now... you wanna do this, or what? If you don't trust me, then whatever. Plenty of others I'm sure I can lend my 'skill' to." He paused, jerking a thumb in the blue-haired boy's direction. "Just don't get kids involved, huh? Man looks like he's still being schooled."

 

[Warm Regret]

Periwinkle Munsell
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

There was a lot on his mind but no time to sort through all the thoughts swimming around up there. Leaving home was more difficult than he thought it would be. For someone who usually has everything planned and organized, this irrational decision of his was a good test of his resilience. ~I wonder if Olive and father are laughing at me.~ He thought to himself with a pensive smile, but the cool ocean breeze brought a soothing comfort to his face. ~Yes, I'm sure they are…but only if I let them. I haven't failed yet.~ He thought to himself decidedly.

The tranquil euphony of the waves crashing against the shore, mixed with the call of the occasional seagull and the hum of distant chatter, left Periwinkle exposed to the world around him. Vivahoja and Jamal's approach caught him by surprise and he turned to face them after the woman called out. Looking them both over with azure blue eyes, it wasn't difficult to tell that he was suppressing some troubling emotion, despite the small yet confused smile on his face. "U..umm…Hello?" He said hesitantly. He suddenly realized that he had seen these two earlier. They were in the crowd gathered by the mayor. It was hard not to stand out when the two of them had such intricate hair styles.

Although Peri hadn't had much of an opportunity to chat with the locals, it was his guess that these two weren't natives to Basar-Stitch. The woman was rather animated and although she was a little hard to follow, somehow her actions made the situation more lighthearted. The shorter fellow she was with however, seemed much more serious and mildly annoyed by her antics. Peri thought it added to the charm of their interaction. "Forgive me, but I'm not quite sure I understand what you're..." He began with a proper sounding accent to his voice. It was clear that he wasn't from Basar-Stitch either, but before he could finish his thought, he was cut off when Jamal addressed them about his intentions with finding Vargo.

After listening to what Jamal had to say, Periwinkle tugged at the lapels of his jacket to adjust the garment's fit on his shoulders. "Hmm..." was the sound that came from the blue haired young man, before inserting himself into the conversation again. "Let me get this straight…" Standing perfectly still, he folded his left arm against his abdomen and used it to hold up the other. Cupping his chin using his right hand, he closed his eyes, lowering his head in contemplation. "You would like to find Vargo and help him to escape from Harbaro, is that right?" Opening his eyes he continued calmly. "I would have to advise against that. Harbaro is a MAGNA Sentinel, which means his skills aren't easily matched. Even if you did manage to get to Vargo first and help him escape, you'd be branded by MAGNA as criminals. With that kind of price on your heads, every bounty hunter in the Calm World would be looking for you."

Periwinkle was all set to let the two of them walk into the lion's den alone but then Jamal had to go and imply that Peri wasn't capable of helping them. Peri's right eye twitched and his demeanor quickly changed from friendly stranger to a wounded youth. He saw Jamal's words as a challenge, another person he had to prove himself to. "What do you mean by kid!?" He asked, his voice both stern and stable. His proper accent made it difficult to tell that he was even upset. "You can't be that much older than I am. I'm just as capable as either one of you and I'll prove it. If I get in the way, feel free to turn me over to MAGNA but if I prove myself, then you have to admit you were wrong." It was more of a statement than a request really. He had already decided he was going along with them now and there was no talking him out of it. What he was agreeing too was crazy, he knew that but what if this was that sign he was looking for earlier?

"If you want my opinion, I'd say we have two options. The first would be to search the jungle. That would be the easiest place to hide. The second would be to seek out information in town. The Rusty Anchor might be a good place to start."

 

[Finhawk]

| | Taipale Kallain | |​

Due to having kept his focus rather keenly on the lightning-hair lad and blue haired woman, Kallain failed to notice the dark-skinned young woman that sauntered over to him before she spoke up. Slightly startled, he withdrew his hand where he'd placed it over his mouth as he had contemplated this turn of events and cast his eyes down on the fairly shorter individual, blinking at her curiously as he quickly took in her appearance. He couldn't help but notice how they must've contrasted with each other. Her dark skin against his pale complexion, her black hair and red eyes quite different to his white and grey, and then there was the fact that Kallain was about a head taller than her. The two of them side by side had to be a rather amusing sight, he imagined.

Though then there was another thing Kallain couldn't help noticing. The woman's vest, a part of one of the armholes seemed to have seen better days despite the rest of the piece of clothing looking rather new. Maybe it had caught onto something and ripped, poor vest. His brows furrowing slightly for a fleeting moment, the man gave the unfortunate flaw a small mournful look that was gone the next second as he fixed his gaze onto the dark woman's face. Perhaps he should've been wary of a stranger showing up to chat to him about an affair with a sentinel included. However, this Vargo was probably what a good chunk of the island was talking about right now so there was no real reason to be suspicious. She didn't seem harmful or up to no good, Kallain concluded as he took in the smile tugging at her lips, giving her a small one of his own in return.

"Hmm, I'd say that depends on rather many factors," Kallain began his answer thoughtfully, slipping his hand into a pant pocket as he shifted on his feet, "Though how much information MAGNA and whoever else might be looking for Vargo possess most likely plays the most important part in the end, knowledge is a valuable asset."

This sparked a thought in Kallain, prompting him to shoot a glance towards the mayor's office, his eyes narrowed sligthly, "I do wonder, why did MAGNA announce their search like this? Considering the impression I've gotten of Basar Stitch, would it not have been easier for them to locate Vargo in silence so there would be less interference from the locals?" He tilted his head a bit as he gave a quizzical look at the young woman, as if he was searching for some sort of agreement on her face to assure himself he wasn't completely off with his train of thought.

However, he didn't give her a chance to actually give any sort of answer before he continued to voice his thoughts, "Even if MAGNA wishes to make Vargo an example or a warning of sorts, they could've just went public about it after his capture. I do not know how much more cooperative the presence of a sentinel makes these people but I'd imagine MAGNA won't be getting too much out of them unless..."

Trailing off for a moment, Kallain cast his eyes on the ground briefly, a small uneasy frown overtaking his features. He liked to think MAGNA didn't go after these rogues by any means necessary, especially if the 'rogue' in question wasn't actually hostile and actively harming anyone as he'd understood is the case with Vargo. But he wasn't naive enough to believe the best from people, those who wield power are unfortunately prone to abusing it, often with good intentions. However, someone must have that power, humans are too good at destroying themselves.

Recognizing the unproductive direction his thoughts were heading off to, Kallain quickly scrapped them as he jerked his eyes back on his chatting partner, wiping the frown off his face and replacing with a smile. A smile that was a bit strained, not quite completely genuine if you bothered to pay attention to it, it was the kind of smile you put on out of politeness and in an attempt to keep the atmosphere easy and relaxed.

"Perhaps MAGNA lacks the means to find Vargo and has to result to questioning the locals even with the possibility of it sparking people to aid him while also giving him a clear warning of their presence. Or, knowing Basar Stitch, they could be counting on someone else wishing to find him and do the work for them. In which case, that someone else would have to pay close attention to keeping MAGNA off their tail," Kallain began to finish in some kind of conclusion, realizing slightly belatedly he hadn't actually answered the original question.

Feeling slightly sheepish by his tirade, Kallain's smile shifted to something more genuine as he gave a small chuckle, retracting his hand from his pocket to bring it up to rub the back of his neck, "So to answer your question, I suppose I don't know. But if I was to bet merits on it, I'd say someone else would be more likely to find him first but MAGNA might just be the ones to have him in the end." The chuckle dying out, a small spark of something akin to curiosity and perhaps excitement entered Kallain's eyes as he looked over to the makeshift stage where the sentinel had just stood a moment ago, "Especially with Herbaro on the island." Mayhaps being this intrigued by a sentinel wasn't all that wise.

Then, another thought entered Kallain's head as he whipped it back around to face the stranger who he had been monologuing to, his face shifting into a wider smile, flashing a bit of teeth, as he shifted slightly to properly face her while bringing his hand down from his neck to offer it to the woman, "Ah, I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name. I'm Kallain, it's a pleasure meeting you." It'd be rather rude not to introduce himself after all.

That's when he finally shuts up long enough to give the young woman a chance to properly get a word in.

 

[Giltine13]

♦ Kuroyuki Kaito ♦​

Kaito's hand was on the doorknob when a man briskly walked up to him and gave a rough greeting. Just to be sure, Kaito glanced around, but no one had budged from their spot so the man must've meant him. The man introduced himself as 'Wolf', which was a little unnerving – the scent of bad news pretty much lingered in the air. Perhaps he should've just ignored the man and ran off while he still had the chance. But it was too late now and an outstretched hand was waiting for him. Kaito didn't shake it; one hand was busy holding his drawstring bag, while the other was perfectly comfortable inside his pocket, although that didn't faze the man as he continued with his offer undeterred.

Kaito tried to hear the man out even with his focus constantly shifting to Wolf's rundown appearance. That trench coat coupled with one of the creepiest smiles he has ever seen gave off all the wrong vibes. Upon closer inspection, the man's brows were laced with worry contradicting his overall look. Maybe the man was a friend, or at the very least an acquaintance, of Vargo and was looking out for him? Then again, did he really want to seek out Vargo if he bothered with people like this guy? He still had plenty of time to figure these bits out and hopefully Wolf won't be too sore if Kaito backed out.

Despite being preoccupied with outright staring, the man's words did register in the back of his mind. Wolf was beating around the bush, not quite saying what kind of work he wanted Kaito to do. Now that raised some warning bell, but besides narrowing his eyes he didn't do anything. If the man was just shy that the wrong kind of people would overhear them and will answer his questions once they were out of the bar, this could work very well for both sides involved. When his sensitive ears caught the happy chime of coins, he was pretty much sold.

"You sure know how to pitch a deal! I bet even the devil would buy a cross from you. I'd just love to get in on your little schemes," Kaito laughed patting Wolf on the back, then hooked an arm around his shoulders and forced the man's head closer, drooping his voice to a honeyed whisper, "But just try to aim for my back while I'm not lookin and I'll remove every single bone from your body." Not that he would actually carry out the threat, for one that would be incredibly messy and annoying, and for two, he didn't really mean it. However, a good threat was like a cozy safety blanket – people usually thought twice before trying anything funny if they have a reason to fear you. They are also a lot more likely to slip up and give away their true intentions. And if Kaito was totally honest, he liked the way people squirmed, too.

Right after, Kaito straightened out with another giggle like nothing even happened and headed for the street. It was a lot busier than it was when he first entered the bar and a lot less cheery. People were going about gossiping to each other, no shouts from any salesman to be heard. Here and there he could catch the name that seemed to be extremely popular today: Vargo. The same nervous energy carried by the men Kaito had met before hovered in the thick air of the street. But no matter where he looked, he couldn't catch a glimpse of any MAGNA officers, so the cost was as clear as ever.

Satisfied with his findings, Kaito turned back at Wolf and gave him one of his famous grins that showed way too much teeth, leaving even his upper gums completely exposed, "Mind if I ask a few questions before we get started? Like what kind of work do you want and how much info on this wanted man do you have? Any idea where to start our search or will we look around the jungle like a couple of stray boats?" Kaito put a finger to his chin as if deep in thought, then his eyes widened and he gave a quick click with his fingers, "Oh yeah! It'd be also pretty nice to know what you will do with the guy once we find him."
Before the man could answer these pressing questions, Kaito jabbed a thumb to his chest, "By the way, name's Jack."

 

[Shavynel]

Dee squared off her shoulders just slightly, an instinctive response to the way the man had cast that glance at her unfinished edge. There was no question about whether or not she'd take the time to fix it later -- she absolutely would. To have a raw, exposed fray was one thing if it was designed, but this? This she would pull off as intentional by force of presentation until she had the time.

And with just that, she'd been expecting a judgemental man, but his words caused her to arch an eyebrow. He was surprisingly free-flowing with his words, bringing up factors she was sure she could have thought of herself, like how of course she'd watch her tail when she looking for Vargo herself (or more likely, set the wide trail ablaze as to make it obvious but unfollowable).

She turned toward him as he did her. "Kallain," Dee repeated, feeling the name on her tongue and committing it to memory. "I'm Dee," she offered with a smile, grasping his hand firmly in response.

"You put a lot of faith in MAGNA's -- ah -- abilities," she inferred, "And as you point out, they'd have to put a lot of faith in their own skills to announce themselves like that." Never bet against your own colors, right? Which brought up the possibility this was a MAGNA man planted in plain clothes. Oh there were islands she wouldn't have batted an eye if the people believed strongly in Herbaro, but from what she knew about Basar Stitch? It was worth noting.

"You know, I think you're right someone else will find him first." It wasn't like she was about to bet against her own colors. "But I'd bet Vargo values his freedom enough not to get caught."

But that brought up another interesting question. Dee's brow furrowed slightly. "Why do you even think they want him anyway? A shipwright, right?" It wasn't like building ships was in itself a crime, though she wouldn't put it past MAGNA to view it as such. Given the right circumstances, she was certain they categorized breathing as an apprehendable offense. "I'm thinking, they want a ship. So either Vargo's got one now, or they're going to make him build one. But I wouldn't really trust anything built under duress."

And if she were to trust the opinion of those she had worked with who knew ships just a tad better than her. "I'd want to see a ship built by him." Sure, she'd fired on the ship -- not to sink it, but the cannonball had smashed clean through -- but ultimately, it had turned away to see another day, sailing away with alacrity where a lesser would have staggered. And if MAGNA wanted him, that was all the more reason to want to see it. MAGNA did have good taste in who they went after even if she didn't agree with how they used their opportunities.

"Wouldn't you?" Dee glanced over her shoulder, a sign she was itching to move on now that she had the idea planted in her head there was a ship to be found (and not just Vargo). Perhaps it wasn't the brightest move, effectively announcing her intention and extending an invitation to a possible MAGNA man to follow her every move. Caution had never been her strong suit. Besides -- she gave him a once over and only then really noticing how towering the man really was -- she must have dealt with worse situations before. And if he proved to be the wrong sort of trouble, she'd deal with him then.

And, of course, if he was MAGNA, there was the option of wringing a couple merits out of him, supposing he valued Vargo's life more than the shipwright himself did.

 

[sun.]

People passing was the ever-present backdrop of Basar Stitch. A bustling oasis amidst an otherwise desolate part of the world, that serves little purpose other than to function as a safe heaven for Rogues, for the black market, but differed in that it wasn't some ruthless, blood-dripping black hole, that swallowed all good in the world. Basar Stitch was garishly alive, and the thugs that stopped by here--or even settled down--had consciousnesses, morales, and often stuck their neck for others.

Perhaps an amusing saying opines that the only reason Basar Stitch is so successful in hiding wanted criminals is that all people there, even the innocent ones, stick out. You can't forget a face you came across on the island, and eventually the brain stops trying to divide everyone, and instead leaves the pursuer with a colorful mishmash of faces, hairstyles, tattoos, weapons, and dirty laughs.

It follows that a figure to break this mold would have to be spectacularly powerful and unique, or so grossly unassuming that it works as a counter-measure to the sensory overload called Basar Stitch.

In Callihan's case, it was the later.

The face of a mouse, the young woman walks across the market place. Black hair, pale face. A grey trenchcoat with deep pockets. Most of her skin hidden, even in the merciless sunshine, no beads of sweat were visible. She seemed... cool, in the literal AND figurative sense of the word, and her gaze pierced through the mob, attracting a reply of those she squints at.

Before Kallain had the chance to process any possible reply of his new acquaintance Dee, a pair of black eyes honed in on him, briefly, before returning to the street before her. The backside of her coat was flat as a board, revealing her immaculate posture.

"Yes."

A cold shiver accompanied the lone word she spoke. The distance between her, and the older man and the young girl was in the double digits of arms-length. In fact, her outline appeared to grow smaller with each step she took, yet her voice remained crystal clear, as if directly addressing Dee and Kallain. She seemed to speak to herself, yet it was hard to tell, as the immediate pause almost suggested a conversation.

"I do not believe anyone else knows where he is, no. Does that mean you will attend later?

...

Indeed, multiple, most likely.

...

Those looking for him surely are blessed then. Shall I visit Vargo now?

...

Understood. See you in a bit."

Despite the oddity of the situation, something else struck odd. It appeared that, with each step the silhouette of the girl took, an irregular trail of people followed her direction. The path she had taken was a road less traveled--and that means not a single soul seemed to have went down that route in the recent past. Though perhaps these were just... henchmen?

"She knows where Vargo is!" a young man hissed, sounding much less... abnormal, thankfully. He whispered to his friend, who grew pale, but nodded. "But how?", the pale friend asked, receiving nothing but a shrug in response. "That... that is our chance though, right?" The two lowly men nodded to each other, before following the trail of thugs into the jungle.

Vivahoja was uncharacteristically quiet as she listened to Jamal's intentions. However, the toothy grin she wore during most of their previous conversation grew with each word, ending in a bright smile.

"Yes... Yeees... Yeeeeees! she threw inbetween Jamal's sentences, as if she tried to guide and animate him to some sort of conclusion that would prove to be incredibly difficult to grasp without her motivation. "That's EXACTLY what I wanted to hear! That settles it then, we're going to find Vargo, yes?" A sort of timid clap followed, as she pattered her feet where she stood in excitement.

Her own excitement aside, she turned to Periwinkle, her smiley face carrying a hint of curiosity as if she was hoping to find her own emotion painted on is face, but instead, she let her shoulders hang a little upon hearing his advise.
"Eh, it will be fine, trust me!" Viva grinned once more, showing the blue-haired boy a confident thumbs-up. "We just have to find Vargo before MAGNA does, right? And if we get in trouble for that, well..."

For a moment, she paused, thinking everything over. "Well, then we'll be super famous Rogues, right?" Jumping where she stood, it was clear that the thought of gaining such infamy excited her considerably more than it scared her. "That's kind of what I was going for anyways." Viva bowed comically, fluttering her hand above the height of her head, and straightened her back out quickly. "I'm the future top spot on the Rotten 6 list, after all. And, uh... The first person to reach the center of the Old World. Mhhh... Maybe some other stuff too, but I haven't thought about that too much yet."

Her words lingered between stupidity and sheer confidence, and the fact that she spoke with a sort of wink--suggesting she fully understood how absurd her little introduction sounded--only made it harder to tell. Instead of bothering to clarify herself, or eliminate the doubt on either side by elaborating, she instead grabbed Periwinkle by the shoulder and give him a quick, encouraging hug.

"So, we're a team then?! That's awesome, I'm so excited to meet THE Vargo. Man... the greatest shipwright of the modern age... Ooph, he must be super strong, also! Well, what do you think?" she asked, turning to the shortest of the three, Jamal. "Do we go into the wild, or ask around?"

The man named Wolf lost the smile he had forced into his face, his jowls sagging a little, as he peered over to Kaito. He did not face the young man directly, rather than keep his right side towards him. His long, sharp nose, Kaito could see, gave him the profile of a weird mixture of hyena and rodent.

"There's no cross to ward off human intention, my friend." he postulated, a sad tone betraying his otherwise neutral voice, as he returned to a straighter position. He had allowed Kaito to drag his head around without any resistance whatsoever, as if made of pudding. Now, however, he stood straight, revealing that his hunched posture hid a solid feet or so of height. As the two left the bar, stepping into the sunlight, beads of sweat glistened on Wolf's forehead. His receding hairline, barely covered by the thin, stringy hair on top of his head, was accentuated by the reddened skin, that contrasted a pale face. Despite his run-down appearance and the cheap clothes, he seemed quite confident in his words, as he further opined aloud.

"A turned back is the card of a fool, remember that. Leave it exposed, and the dogs will sink their teeth into it... even the ones you just fed. It's a strange phenomena; Trust." With that, he pulled out a stack of notes. Assuming all of the bills were of the same worth as the top one, the man fanned around a stack worth upwards of 100.000 Merits, as if it was nothing. "Nevertheless, I will extend you the privilege of it, and entrust you with an upfront payment. Do with it as you please." Extending the money for Kaito to take, his crooked teeth seemed to bulge further outwards, as an impatient smile graced his face. "There is a many people looking for the shipwright. Join them. Any of them. Whoever you believe will lead you to him. Use this to tell me when you find him."

Wolf fished a small device out of the pocket of his coat, handing it to Kaito. "Point it into the sky. Tear off the top. That is all. Once you've done that in the presence of Vargo, your task is completed. You will receive one more payment. Unless you wish to work for me further beyond this objective, we won't speak to each other ever again... Jack."

There was but a fraction of a moment, during which Wolf's voice reeked of contempt. Disgust, even. The bridge of his nosed wrinkled within milliseconds, and his teeth seemed to rot even further; but as sudden as the wave of wrath surged, the fast it disappeared, and before Kaito stood the same cheap-looking and distressed man as before.

"Now if you will excuse me. Time is money, as I'm sure you know. How do they say? Death waits for no one."

 

[Jakers]

JAMAL LAJARA
><><><><><><><​

All Jamal could really do at the blue-haired woman's attitude was just roll his eyes, invisibly under his sunglasses, and give soundless, quick and brief snorts through his nose. Regardless of how he felt about her, it was too early to judge her about anything. Being chirpy and positive wasn't a crime, or even a bad thing; he knew that. In fact, in this world, they were qualities many would've found admirable and attractive.

He knew he sure would've found it attractive, if he was the same old person.

But... damn. The way she guided and clapped for him made him feel like a damn child again, and comparing how she acted to the days where he had the sweetest mother he could've asked for was gonna damn soon make him snap. Regardless, though his facial pout and folded arms looked far from pleased - along with some sort of vein starting to form on his forehead - Jamal managed to bite his tongue for now.

"Yeah. We are," Jamal replied when she'd finally stopped clapping as if he'd figured out 1 + 1 for the first time. "So stop wastin' daylight being a spaz and let's g-"

However, Jamal was unexpectedly cut off again. This time, however, it was by the stranger he thought his crazy 'partner' had randomly picked out from the crowd. ...Was he... was he serious? He got a little mad because he'd called him 'kid', and now he was willing to come with them?

Even though he didn't turn his gaze towards the young boy, still, there was a slight hint of surprise laced in with the dreadlock-bearing man's usual expression.
"Changed your mind quickly," Jamal slowly commented in observation. A long pause followed, before he continued. "Yeah. You're right bout' somethin: true we're likely of a similar age. But... I didn't call you that to insult you. S'a warning." Slowly, Jamal turned his head, his shades making true eye contact with the young man for the first time. Slowly, after a pause, he nodded his head - as he'd confirmed something.

"I know the eyes of a 'wanted man', and you don't own em'. From the way you sweat, from the way you stand, to the way you look at the people and the sky around you: Your bounty is either pointlessly low, or nonexistent." Jamal didn't even wait for a validation if he was correct or not. "What we're about to do could result in your name gettin' millions or merits, depending on where the flow of 'crime's river' sweeps us. ...I know little about you, stranger, but have you worked to achieve things in this place? Do you have a home? Family? A sweetheart? Don't answer, just think about it, and ask yourself, if you're willing to take the chance of sacrificing everything, just because I scratched your pride."

He let the words sink in for a moment.

"If you are, I'll give you your 'apology' right here and now."

With that, Jamal broke eye contact, dreads sweeping through the wind as he turned his gaze back towards the woman. She seemed to be going on - and even giving joking little poses as she talked - about getting to the 'top' of the Rotten 6, and the true 'heart' of the Old World. Both of which things made Jamal look even more serious than usual for a brief moment, his brows furrowing into the smooth tops of his sunglasses.

"...Hope you're joking. Wishin' for your ems' to be so stupidly high is the purpose calling of a madwoman-" Jamal tried to snipe in his distaste, but the girl moved about and talked so fast it was hard to tell if she was even listening. Rolling his eyes with a quiet groan as she manhandled that poor stranger, all Jamal could do was wait for her to cut to the chase. Eventually, she did, and Jamal was quick to respond.

"Wild. Asking around may gain us answers, but it'll also get us glances from unwanted eyes, from MAGNA and... 'competitors'... alike; I refuse to believe for a single tic' that we're the only ones with... 'Vargo-related' plans right now." He lowered his sunglasses slightly as he glanced around him, before scraping one of his top teeth of his lip piercing quickly - a slight metallic scratch whistling through the air - before he gestured towards the jungles with a tip of his head.

"The sooner we're out of sight, the better," Jamal deliberately lowered his voice for a moment. "Cuz' let's just say I've got 'something' with me that'll help us sweep the jungle in minutes. You'll see. Come on." He gestured for the woman to follow him, but he paused before starting to walk, looking over his shoulder at the blue-haired male.

"And you... if you're hundred' about doing this... then, sorry. Alright?" Although Jamal clearly wasn't in a mood to show feelings right now - in fact, he probably never was - it was clear he meant it. "Guess that makes you part of some makeshift 'team' we cobbled now, so, ignoring what I just said. What d'you think we should do?"

 

[Warm Regret]

Periwinkle Munsell
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Somehow he found himself getting roped into a fool's errand. MAGNA was on the hunt for the infamous shipwright Vargo and even went so far as to dispatch Herbaro to apprehend him. The three of them were currently discussing intercepting MAGNA and Herbaro to provide Vargo a means of escape. Thinking about what they were planning was no less absurd than their actual conversation. He was fully aware of the consequences of partaking in such a quest, yet that didn't seem to be enough to give him pause. Why was that? Raking a hand through his cornflower blue hair, he realized he hadn't been acting like himself since he arrived in Basar Stitch and he didn't quite know why. It was almost as if the collective nature of all the rebels, criminals, thugs and revolutionaries who lived their, had somehow assimilated into his state of consciousness.

Despite the fact that their conversation was laced with treason, Periwinkle couldn't help but conjure a tender smile when the young woman he was speaking with, gave him two thumbs up, announcing everything would be fine. There was something about her liveliness that was like a breath of fresh air. There weren't many people who shared her level of enthusiasm for life and he found it rather endearing. It was rare to have the type of personality that involuntarily pulls you in, it was something Peri already admired about the strange woman. She even hugged him at one point, which made him wonder when was the last time he was embraced by anyone. The darker skinned man on the other hand was the exact opposite, in fact, he seemed somewhat irritated by her behavior. Peri could tell in just the few minutes of meeting him that he was more of the serious type and at least in that regard, he could probably relate to him a little more.

"Well…I…" He began shakily, lowering his head as a look of uncertainty washed over his pale face. The fellow with the dreadlocks was in the process of calling him out and continued to do so before Peri could cough up a reply. Everything the shorter man was telling him was true. He was no criminal, he didn't know what it was like to be hunted by the government and he did have a lot to lose, his future being one of them. By going down this path he could never turn back. He would become an enemy of MAGNA and would be in direct odds with his father and older sister. If his father didn't hate him enough already, he would be completely disowned by his family once his father found out he had become a rebel and would henceforth become his enemy. Was he willing to throw his life into turmoil because some stranger wounded his pride?

For a while, Peri remained quiet, letting the two strangers talk amongst themselves while he stood in the background. The warm island breeze at his back caused his jacket to flutter forward, tugging at his blue locks at the same time. For a brief moment, it felt like everyone else on the island had vanished. Thinking about what the man in the sunglasses had to say wasn't easy. Maybe he really was a kid. He surely didn't know with absolute certainty what he wanted to do, but did that make him less mature or more cautious? It took him a while to come to a decision but eventually he decided to trust himself and go with his instincts, instead of overthinking things, the latter of the two coming more naturally to him. By now the others were ready to go and the darker skinned man apologized before asking what they should do. Periwinkle looked up so that he met the shorter man's shielded gaze and it was like the rest of the island suddenly reappeared.

"You were right by the way." He said out of the blue, his voice calm, with a strong proper accent. "I am still young and I have some maturing to do." He said with a corroborating nod. "That means I also have a future to think of. I do not have the heart of a criminal and I have no experience in the ways of rebel life…However, I do have pride." He confirmed as he strode towards to two of them. "Pride can be both a fault and a virtue but a man without pride is nothing. I believe anyone can take pride in whatever they choose to do…so…I've decided…" Turning to face the blue haired woman, he smiled and in that instant, he seemed almost…exaulted. "I suppose this really does make us a team then." He said with satisfaction. The words however were bittersweet, a brief glimmer of those emotions elusive in his royal blue eyes. It bothered him that these two strangers were more accepting of him in the brief time they've known each other, than his father had been for his entire life.

After joining them, he began to accompany them in the direction of the jungle. The man with the dreadlocks mentioned earlier that he had a means for them to easily traverse the wilds, which Periwinkle assumed was some sort of vehicle. "If you have a way for us to cover a large portion of the Jungle in a short period of time, I think that would be out best option." He said quietly to the shorter fellow. "Also, if we're going to be a team, I suppose introductions are in order." He addressed them both. Pausing for a moment and holding his hand to his chest, he took a graceful bow. "Periwinkle Munsell, at your service."

Suddenly he realized what he was feeling earlier. In the past, he had always done what his father thought was best or what he thought would please his father and it never made him happy. Now, he was free to do as he pleased and it made him feel…alive.

 

[Finhawk]

| | Taipale Kallain | |​

Kallain had heard Vargo's the one you want to track down if you need a ship built right, but he had a rather hard time believing MAGNA wanted a ship from him so damn badly they sent a bloody sentinel after him. No, there had to be more to it. However, if some exceptional ship truly was a part of the reason for the hunt for Vargo, Kallain couldn't deny he was rather tempted by the idea of seeing the shipwright's handiwork for himself.

Just as he opened his mouth to answer his current companion, he caught sight of a pair of eyes lock onto him, or possibly Dee, as what he assumed to be the voice of that same person seemed to answer her question in his stead. But as Kallain snapped his mouth back shut and quickly turned his head to get a better look at the stranger, she was already walking away from them, appearing to be having a conversation with someone. The subject was rather predictable; Vargo, but she apparently knew more than most.

With a small frown worming its way onto his face, Kallain watched the retreating back and her growing mob of followers with intrigue, suspicion, and confusion. After a short moment, he took his gaze off from this sudden interruption to give a glance at Dee, to see her reaction to this shady woman. Maybe he just imagined it. Maybe she had no intention to try to lure them specifically to anywhere to conduct any Vargo hunting with the rest of the crowd.

"Uh... I suppose if you want to see a ship, that appears to be the right direction," Kallain very helpfully pointed out, even jabbing a finger at the direction of the trail of people following the strange woman who was not in sight any longer. His frown deepening, the man shifted on his feet a bit uneasily as he gave the area a sweep with his eyes, spotting few more additions to the string of people going after this woman apparently in hopes of finding Vargo. "Though I doubt how wise going after any ship that may or may not exist or Vargo would actually be, especially if you don't know what MAGNA wants from him exactly or what he has done if anything. The whole situation is quite suspicious and not staying out of it would most likely be just asking for trouble, plain and simple."

So he says, but he stayed on the island for a reason and it'd be a shame if he chickened out now and missed out on what was to come. However, he wasn't enough of an idiot to want to get directly involved in all of whatever the heck was going on and following the moderately unsettling lady screamed 'bad idea'. Anyone with half a brain cell could tell you getting into the middle of MAGNA snooping around a rogues' nest would imply you have some sort of a death wish. But of course Kallain wasn't going to do that. Oh no, never in a million years. He was only going to get a front row seat on the likely mess that was bound to unfold. After all, he still wanted to get an actual glimpse on what a sentinel can do. He wanted to find out what exactly this Vargo had done and what it was precisely that MAGNA wanted. And he definitely did want to see that alleged ship.

With a small exhale, Kallain zeroed his sight back on Dee. "But yes, I'd indeed like to get a look on what this shipwright can create," he proclaimed decisively with a small nod and a hint of a nervous smirk, "Just a look can't hurt, right?" And with that, he put one foot in front of the other and began the quest to tail behind the mob, mindful of keeping a safe distance, casting a glance back at Dee as he did so. He had gotten the impression she was slightly too eager to go ship hunting and what was essentially a big 'this way' sign surely wouldn't deter her. Or so he assumed.

As long as he was careful and didn't stick his nose too closely into anyone's business, he'd be just fine, nothing could possibly go too horribly wrong. Right? ...Right.

 

[Giltine13]

♦ Kuroyuki Kaito ♦​

Kaito hadn't expected that. The whole talk about trust? Sure, many liked to bad mouth it and he wasn't much of an exception. But all those sweet Merits stalked into a neat pile? It made Kaito whistle in surprise before he stuffed the offered money into his pocket. How funny was it that such a small thing like a rectangular piece of paper with some fancy print had such incredible power… At least Kaito always found it amusing. He dutifully listened and nodded along with the man's words, even if they were boring him half to death at this point. Not to mention the guy spat his name out like it was the vilest thing he had ever tasted…or maybe said was the better word. Just because the name had a lot of negative associations didn't mean you could throw it around like a piece of trash – it just wasn't cool.

"Wright, wright. Guess the captain's got better stuff to do than sink with his ship," Kaito tossed over his shoulder, already heading for the jungle he loved to hate. He could bet an arm that the place was no longer packed with just annoying insects, animals and plants, but unwanted people as well. Like navigating through overgrown weed wasn't hard enough on its own. Probably having extra flapping and very catchy drapes wouldn't help his case either, so with a heavy hand he slowly unbuttoned the lower loose part of his jacket and shoved it inside his bag. Good thing his pants came with pockets of their own giving his idle hand a place to occupy.

Keeping a fast pace, Kaito moved with the crowd of equally rushing people – today everyone had something that needed to be taken care of immediately. Many faces blurred past that he won't remember tomorrow, broken pieces of their conversations forced their way into his head. Kaito couldn't care less about some woman's gambling husband or a boy's lost dog, but from time to time, there would be an interesting whisper about Vargo – the old man had it coming, I heard he built a small house in the jungle to hide from MAGNA, some say he's currently building a really dangerous ship that has the whole world upside down – and while he couldn't be sure how true these rumors were, he still stuck out an ear to listen.

Kaito followed along with the crowd for just a little bit longer, then turned for a narrow alleyway and carefully picked a more deserted way to the jungle from there. He didn't quite believe that this Vargo would just sit like a seagull on a yard waiting to get shot. Rather, he hopped the man had enough brains to try to hide now that the hounds were on his tail or have already prepared for such a situation by making his home in a spot most would overlook. And that was exactly the kind of spot Kaito was looking for.

Once Kaito reached the jungle, he shrugged off his hood, eliminating the barrier between his surroundings and his currently keen ears. Plenty of noises greeted him: the irritating buzz of various, usually blood-thirsty, bugs, jolly chirping birds with an occasional shriek from the bigger ones and the sullen wheezes of wind that somehow managed to reach the jungle all the way from the port. The air here stood hot and thick and would be absolutely unbearable if it weren't for those refreshing gusts stirring the place up. They were the only blessing Kaito had.

All in all, there didn't seem anything out of ordinary – the perfect place to hide for some, a nightmare to Kaito. He pushed his way through the greenery, cursing everything in his path and whatever fool invented jungles. With each step there was another tug at his pants, lasting no more than a few seconds and leaving yet another small and gaping hole behind. His eye twitched every time, but Kaito refused to slow down. All he could see was the road ahead of him until he rammed face first into a tree, quickly grabbing at it to keep himself from kissing the ground. He glared daggers at the tiny root slight raised from the ground that so treacherously caught his foot, but with a few quick deep breaths Kaito was ready to move on. Except when he did, there was a lovely triiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipch and now he could see his very bare left knee staring back at him.

The loud roar of pure fury that followed was completely justified and the ass kicking that tree got right after was absolutely well-deserved. This was the best way to handle this type of a situation, or so Kaito kept chanting to himself as he stomped away from the crime scene.

From all the places this so amazing shipwright had at his disposal, the guy just had to pick a jungle, didn't he?

 

[Shavynel]

Dee turned slightly at the sound of a new voice answering her question, intending to welcome the newcomer to their conversation, except there was none, not where she expected to find one, anyway. That was ... odd. But when she saw Kallain's gaze turned elsewhere, she tracked it, finally landing on the other, a person they should not have been able hear from this distance, yet that seemed to be what was in fact happening.

She wiped the surprise from her face as best she could. With how much she had seen in the world, she would have liked to believe it was enough that such things would have no shock factor anymore, but well, that was clearly something she still had to work on.

When Kallain pointed out the merry stream of followers, Dee gave an involuntary, acknowledging chuckle. It was almost too obvious a path to merit formal recognition. But when the man finally admitted he would, Dee split out a true grin. Even if their rapport was based on a mere few seconds of conversation, even if he had his doubts about dealing with the Vargo business at all, and even if she had doubts about this near stranger, he was still company. And if there was one thing Dee disliked, that was traveling alone. Though -- Dee looked at the trail of people -- she supposed it wouldn't really be traveling alone even without him.

Still, she fell into place beside him, taking almost two steps to his every one. "If the looking hurts, aye? Let me know," she offered, patting the butt of her giant gun. It was as much a comfort to her as it was meant for him. "I'll hurt it back." Nevermind the fact his scarred face suggested he'd survived his fair share of life already, and his size alone probably stopped people from messing with him too often.

"Let's move up a bit," Dee suggested not three steps later, and quickened her pace, ready to grab his arm if he fell behind (they were traveling companions now, and it wouldn't do to lose him). "I want to be able to see where she's going." That he had put care into their spacing was utterly lost on her. That maybe caution ought to be applied in a situation where this woman muttering to some unseen entity was forming practically a cult almost without any effort was not something Dee considered at all. Crowds of people, after all, usually meant something interesting happening. And Dee wanted to be front and center in whatever was happening, not shoved off into the nosebleed seats.

That wasn't to say, though, she was incapable of detecting any oddity in this situation. That the woman had shown up was a bit of a mystery. She had practically invited for them to follow her to Vargo right after MAGNA's announcement. "And," Dee added, another brilliant idea coming to mind. "Maybe we can ask her. Maybe she knows more of what's going on." Nevermind the fact clearly no one else in this entourage thought it a good idea to bug the woman, leaving her well enough alone.

 

[sun.]

The men and women mindlessly following a certain someone had reached deep inside the jungle. With pin-point accuracy, they navigated through the lush vegetation, oddly aware of any tripping hazards, and perhaps even more oddly free of any attention by the more carnivorous wildlife home to the jungle. A quiet chain of what might as well be hypnotized fools at this point, leaving a trail to follow for the makeshift duo of Dee and Kallain.

Perhaps in stark contrast to Kaito, the graceful navigation of the jungle quickly mirrored his accident, as an elderly woman appeared from the left. Her movement had the same wobbly, dreamy quality as the people that had formed a line to pass through the jungle, and though she, too, had no issues with the vegetation, Kaito seemed to be an obstacle that wasn't detected by neither her surprisingly confident footwork, nor her surely awful eyesight. Instead, she merely continued to walk into Kaito, her face bumping against his chest, setting her a few steps back, only for her to repeat the process over and over again.

Meanwhile, much further towards the end of the pilgrimage, Kallain and Dee's surroundings were slowly consumed by the twilight of the jungle. The sand of the beaches fizzled out in favor of earth and grass, and the rocks and houses that were scattered all over even the outskirts of Basar Stitch's village had disappeared entirely. The change was subtle, maybe even moreso in part because of the hypnotic unison with which the people in front of the couple continued to venture deep into the jungle.

However, there was one pair of steps that was out of line with the crowd Dee and Kallain followed, that did not belong to either of the two. A shadow stretched out behind the two, occasionally waiting for a few seconds, pausing entirely, then resuming his pursuit. The man behind him was of average height, and without a build out of the ordinary, but his face was completely out of sight. His already lowered head was further shielded from any curious pair of eyes thanks to the wide-brimmed cowboy hat he wore; It didn't seem to bother him, however, as he made up some of the distance he had kept, before he murmured with a deep voice, vaguely into the direction of Kallain and Dee.

"Today's not your time, is it? But you don't belong to them either. So... who are you, is the question."

(feat. Jakers)​

"Oh, come on, will you stop being so worried already?" Vivahoja complained to Jamal, a single hand waving quickly, dismissing his caution as well as his remark over her mental state. Rubbing the side of her nose with a single index finger, she grinned towards Peri, nodding cheerfully.

"I'm Viva." Her reply was short and factual, leaving little room for any questions about her family name, but her tone remained friendly. Thanks to Jamal, the girl was a little pre-occupied with the mental image of a wanted poster with her face on it, the bounty containing more than six zeroes, luring a giddy giggle out of her, before she forced herself to pay attention once again.

"So..." she began, giving the shortest of the three strangers that made up their group a soft push, putting him on the spot. "What is your great plan to comb through the woods so fast?" A negligible film of oily residue clang to Jamal's exposed shoulder, where Viva had layed her hand on. "Oops, sorry about that. Don't worry though, it's not dirt or anything bad," she assured him, smiling.

"You'll get my name once this is all over. For now, just call me…" Jamal began in response to Periwinkle introducing himself. It was clear he was lacking creativity: "...Guy." He paused, memorising Viva's name too, before making some sort of intense snort when he felt something cold and sticky wipe against his shoulder.

"Dafuck--?!"
Furrowing his brow, Jamal clawed his shoulder, examining the mixture that'd been wiped onto his shoulder. ...More of that black gunge? Thankfully, from the signature smell crude oil had, he could tell it really wasn't anything bad, or he would've been more than mildly disgusted.

Spreading out his hand and staring further at the mixture, whilst Jamal seemed slightly fuming at first, the young man now looked a mixture of curious and concerned.
"You'll see, but… first, y'need to tell me why and how you're wiping all this shit everywhere." Jamal grumbled, his shades staring up from Vivahoja to her arm, face dead serious. "All I know, could be venom or some shit. And you're actin' the goof on purpose. Just to catch me off guard. Plus, trackin' you is s'easy as trackin' a wounded animal."

His words seemed to be filling with more and more tension as he talked, and the longer he examined the girl's sludge-covered arm. It didn't seem to be losing any of the mixture that came off it. Was this some sort of…
"Don't tell me that's…" Jamal began, before waiting until the trio had left public view, before rather suddenly grabbing the girl's blackened arm. "This is… you're…"

He suddenly looked up, an intense reflection sparking off from his shades.
"You're a card user…!"

Viva had rolled her eyes at the man's secrecy, pouting just a bit, before she decided it wouldn't be worth being pushy about it. In fact, the girl's attention seemed to fizzle out rapidly, and a bored expression overcame her face, pulling at the corners of her mouth and her eyelids. "Yikes! Calm down, it really isn't that big of a deal, she replied apathetically upon hearing Jamal's vulgar shriek.

"It's not like I'm leaving a trail or anything like that. See?" She asked, and immediately wiped off the smudge of oil from Jamal's skin without so much as a trace, the oily liquid seemingly being absorbed by the girl's pores. "If I wanted to poison you, there'd be much better ways, you know?" she stated, her tone remaining awfully nonchalant, suggesting neither sarcasm nor intimidation, as if speaking about poisoning one another was a wildly acceptable topic of conversation.

She trotted next to her two new travelers, when suddenly, the shorter man yanked her arm with an unusual sense of urgency, so much so that it snapped Viva out of her mumbling indifference. "Huh?" Raising an eyebrow, she froze in place for just a second, before quickly pulling herself away from Jamal. "Well, so?" she asked defensively, resting her arms behind her back this time. "You're gonna freak out now and run, or what?" Her question was clearly some sort of challenge, her voice trailing towards a kind of… upset tone, almost, as if she was insulted.

"No, it's…" for a second, Jamal's tone seemed apologetic, before it quickly went back to its usual tone. The paths of the town beginning to crumble off into little but deep brown dirt, the expansive jungle coming closer and closer towards the trio, Jamal gave a quiet sigh. He supposed nobody else was around to hear.

"I've never seen another one of my kind before. ...In the flesh, you know? I've heard stories upon stories bout' all sorts of card users, but… I've never actually met someone like me. Thought I was the only one to have this… [glow=red]curse[/glow]," Jamal whispered, his voice softer than usual as his sunglasses pointed towards the ground. "Though… I suppose for you, havin' a card's convenient, huh? Convenient when you're lookin' for big em's."

Hands in his pockets, Jamal gave a hoarse sigh as he looked towards the skies, obscured by the green of the leaves.
"Look, just… forget all that, alright? You're just the first I ever met, yeah?"

As he paused, there seemed to be a sudden, high pitched, ethereal sound; one that hummed through the air and vibrated through the thick foliage of the jungle.

"Now…"

The lightning-bolt designs around Jamal's hair quivered slightly with a rich, green light, before a pulse of energy seemed to ricochet from his head through to his extended arm.

"My card."
Jamal explained, his eyes shining such a vibrant green, they pierced through the blackened rims of his sunglasses. "[glow=gold]'THUNDER ROAD.'[/glow]"

A long, floating 'road' - not obvious at first - had formed from thin air in front of Jamal, leading up into the canopy of the jungles. The platform was translucent - like a sheet of glass - and seemed to reflect green light when sunlight reflected off it. Completely unaffected by gravity, the ethereal construction simply hovered, forged from nothing but that bright green light that had bounced from Jamal's arm.

"With these 'roads', we'll find clues in no time, take to high ground, and ignore all the shit in our way on the jungle floor," his green-shimmering shades glanced from Periwinkle, to Vivahoja, gesturing to the upwards-sloping road he'd created. "Try setting foot on one. Get used to how it feels. Just make sure you walk to start with; fallin' and snappin' yourself s'the last thing a man needs."

Vivahoja grunted, not even answering his question, before watching Jamal's powers unfold. With crossed arms and a craned neck, her eyes kept flickering back to watch the man's eyes light up, creating what looked like a sort of film, covering the air? No, more like hazy glass, perhaps. Something, in any case, popped up right before her eyes. A Moirae Card power, no doubt. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips, as she turned her body to fully appreciate the subtle yet impressive sight of... roads?

"As if," she yapped, breaking out in a sprint towards the summoned construct. "So what do these dooooooooooo~"

Her scream trailed off as quickly as she had stepped onto the road. Her body was flung deep into the jungle, a smudge of blue disappearing in the thicket, leaving only the two young men behind.

"By the Gods, I fucking hate the jungle..."

A young man with an almost childishly scrunched up face, bright red-brown hair, and his hands in his pockets, turned around, his ears perking up as he heard a peculiar sound. Admittedly, the jungle was noisy and filled with whirs and whiffs, and yet, this was different. It almost sounded as if it came... straight for him?

"WHAT THE-"

Before he could finish his no doubt vulgar sentence, a heavy object crashed into him, sending him flying--the object still pressed onto his midsection. With a painful thud, their flight found an end as the young man's back was nailed against a giant palm tree, the trunk not giving an inch against the weight. A pathetic moan lingered, as the hurting youth crawled away from his assailant, confused and angry.

"f-fuck..."

Vivahoja had tumbled back to her feet. Still seeing stars, she teetered back and forth right in front of her unintended victim, a dazed smile on her face.

"So... S-so... S-so-sorry..."

A vein seemed to bulge on the man's temple, his hands balling into fists.

Though Viva had been catapulted deep into the jungles, it seemed as if a loud male voice sounded closely to Jamal and Peri. The voice distinctly yelled an incredulous and extremely angry "SORRY?", as startled birds ascended from somewhere within the jungles.

 

[Warm Regret]

​

His attempt at introductions didn't quite go as Periwinkle had planned. He did however learn that that the female's name was Viva. Notably though, she neglected to give her full name. Meanwhile, the shorter fellow didn't give his actual name at all, deciding on the alias "Guy" for the time being. "Viva. Guy. It is a pleasure to meet you both." He said turning his head to look at each of them respectively. The more he spoke, the more apparent it became that he was the furthest thing from a rebel that you could get, his proper accent making it even more blatant. The etiquette of his upbringing had been drilled into him since birth, so it was difficult for him to break old habits, in this example, introducing oneself properly. However, if he was going to join these rebels, he would have to learn from them. Mentally, he was recording their actions, their words, ect. Both of them gave little information about themselves and when he thought about it, that was probably the safest way to go about things. As a rebel, you never know who was out to get you or worse yet, stab you in the back.

As the three of them pierced the outskirts of the jungle, Periwinkle remained silent, trailing behind his new teammates and listening in on their conversation while taking in the new surroundings. Reaching inside his jacket, he withdrew a long periwinkle scarf, which he proceeded to wrap around his neck despite the warm weather. One end lay down his chest while the other down his back and as he finished positioning the scarf, whose color bore his namesake, he noticed that they had stopped temporarily and he looked up to observe what was happening. Guy had discovered that Viva was a Moirae card user and inadvertently let slip that he was one as well. Periwinkle was surprised at this revelation and watched with focused royal blue eyes as Viva gave a small example of her unusual power. She was somehow able to wipe clean the smudge of black residue she had left on Guy's shoulder. Given the gooey state of her hand, such an act shouldn't have been possible and Periwinkle wondered what the true power behind her oozing left hand truly was.

Despite the fact that his father possessed a Moirae card, Viva's use of her card was the first time he had seen one used in person. He noticed earlier the dark ooze dipping from her hand but didn't realize it was because she was a Moirae card user and there was nothing about Guy that gave him any inclination that he was a card user as well. Periwinkle held a healthy dislike for Moirae cards. He perceived them as aberrant objects that were a danger to this world but at the same time, he didn't think any less of Viva or Guy for using them. While Moirae cards left him feeling a little uneasy, he could only judge the user of the card by their actions. Viva and Guy were rebels but so was he now, it was how they used their dark powers that would form his opinion of them, not the simple fact that they possessed them. Next, Guy used his own Moirae power and summoned an unnatural road that seemed to defy the laws of physics. It came whizzing out of nowhere, straight up into the leafy green awning of the jungle, a translucent construct with a green under glow. Periwinkle took a step back in awe, as he marveled at the peculiar roadway.

"Th…this is…" He began quietly but lost his words while admiring the spectacle before him. He knew that Moirae cards were powerful and dangerous, however the abilities shown to him by Viva and Guy gave him a sense of wonder, not fear. "…amazing, a transparent structure with no regard for gravity. I've never seen anything like it." He said while slowly approaching Guy's Thunder Road, reaching out to it carefully in his mesmerized state. "Guy…how does…" But before he could ask any questions, Viva wasted no time impulsively hopping on one of Guy's roads and took off like a shot into the jungle, causing Peri's scarf, jacket and hair to be ruffled in the robust breeze of her passing. Standing there with a blank look on his face, he blinked a few times comically before turning to face Guy. Holding a loose fist to his mouth, he closed his eyes, hiding an annoyed smile. "I wish I could say I was surprised that this happened." He said with light sarcasm. It was his attempt at humor.

Suddenly there was a loud roar from deeper in the jungle. It sounded like a man's voice, bellowing the word 'SORRY?' Peri could see in the distance where a flock of birds had scattered, no doubt frightened by the man's growl. "Well at least we know where she is." He remarked with a light grin. "But it appears she's gotten herself into a bit of trouble. Shall we?" He asked, ready to use the thunder road himself…and hopefully with more finesse than his female companion. Stepping onto the odd roadway he moved at a more casual pace to familiarize himself with this new form of travel and even with him being more reserved, he found it to be quite frankly…exhilarating.