Eyuil, L-Corp Branch Director (Disavowed)
Red eyes gazed out at the shambling creatures that emerged onto the deck, watching them as they crowded around their fallen comrade. They had a somewhat humanoid shape, but the multitude of growths and sea-like features attached to their waterlogged forms showed how far they had descended from humanity, if they ever had been.
The 'Captain' that had shown up had only reinforced the notion, a confident thing resplendent in tentacles and crab claws. Eyuil was automatically made wary of the creature; It walked with a hobble, but that hobble was full of confidence and self-assuredness... he would not be an easy foe. That talk of 'finding more crew' did not sit well with him, either.
The hires from District 21 said little about what went on in the Lake... but there had always been rumors and hearsay about 'Mermaids'. Sailors drowned in the sea or eaten, only to return as monstrosities. Perhaps that is what they face?
Grip tightening on the ragged umbrella in his hand, Eyuil pondered how he would go about this...
"They haunt this place like crows, picking off any 'scattered' like ourselves that show up. I have a shelter across the other end of the wreckage's, but we can't have them follow. Their boat will blow us out of the water for good." The Samurai told everyone in a hushed tone once they gathered up again.
liver cleared his throat, or well, his mind? Whatever, he vocalized a cough, "Er sorry, I mean why don't we just kill them all then? That'd solve the whole issue of them following us. Besides, I dunno anything about The Lake, but those guys look kinda run of the mill." They were probably special in some way since they could, you know, go all submarine in a place as lethal as The Lake, but you never know, that might just be something people do in District 21.
Small kernel of information, these ones are picking off, 'scattered', which we are classified as according to this samurai. Ask about that. Even if it would be wiser to just pretend that you know, this feels like an important question to ask.
"Oh yeah, the hell's a scattered? I'm guessing it has to do with guys teleporting randomly or something cause last thing I remember is getting my ass kicked in The Library..." he trails off, turning towards umbrella guy before staring intensely at him.
"And I tends to agree with this approach. Aside from whatever foul powers their patrons has granted them, I have not seen any evidence they are any beyond mortality. Between all of us, I'd say we have a chance to eliminate the current pursue party, and move on before that vessel"
He point at the ship
" can get its cannons to fire "
"Oh yeah, the hell's a scattered? I'm guessing it has to do with guys teleporting randomly or something cause last thing I remember is getting my ass kicked in The Library..." he trails off, turning towards umbrella guy before staring intensely at him.
"It's a result of warpcraft, I gather. And what I seen here does not suggest any evidences otherwise. A particular calm patch of the Warp, it might be."
One of the furred ears on the top of his head - E.G.O Gifts from the Drifting Fox, of whom he was always the most suited to do Works with - twitched towards the conversation being had. It wasn't a cosmetic of any sort; he heard just fine through it, perhaps even better than his human ears, and what it heard caused him to frown.
'Scattered.' A simple word, loaded with hidden meanings until it leaked at the edges. It referred to them, but its importance as a term meant that this phenomenon was not exclusively tied to this little group.
It had not been a freak accident.
NOthINg EveR IS.
His concentration breaks from that little tangent as the Fixer across from him mentions The Library in his rambling diatribe. His red eyes locked with the single optic of the full-body prosthetic of his fellow with a nod, and he felt an
understanding form there, in that space between them.
An understanding from two people who had tread The Library's halls... and had died there, turned into books.
The Fixer's odd personality and verbal ticks didn't truly bother him; being a Director meant working with all sorts of people and quirks, from the psychotic to the weird. This Fixer would be no different; he would have words with the man later, he was sure.
He waited for another of the group to speak their piece - a severe man in heavy leather with golden trim, a broad hat and a symbol hung around his belt that Eyuil could not place - before speaking up himself, his voice quiet but firm in its inflection.
"As much as I agree on us matching our enemy in numbers, it's not wise to underestimate these creatures of the Lake." He looks at the supposed Captain, whose face tentacles calmy writhed in the howling thunderstorm above. "Overconfidence is an insidious killer, after all."
Eyuil had been subject to the deaths of his fellows on more than one occasion; a despairingly high number had come from them underestimating the threat they were facing, especially when they had become more laden with powerful E.G.O Suits or Gifts. Merely human those these creatures might be, and though he was a powerful Grade 2 Fixer himself...
Well, death had a way of curbing one's confidence. He looked back to the two, his gaze then sweeping amongst the rest of the group.
"If you truly intend on fighting these creatures, then I will assist; however, think carefully before you commit to that sort of action. There may be more of them hiding where we cannot see, and their biology is unknown to us, with equally anomalous effects we have yet to see."
