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*Since Micha did not speak, he could not cast the magic spells that his siblings could. Therefore Mastema started to teach him symbol magic that he could instead draw with a finger, stick, or other random object or limb. Taking in the question, Micha would ponder for a moment then slowly move his head back and forth, in a 'no'. With further practice, Mastema wouldn't need to spell out every letter, and could use smaller movements, that were representations for entire words. However he was trying, so Mastema got marks for that. Thanatos had given Micha a ring that would make light, and Orias had given Micha a pendant that did the same. Still the magic was good to know, even if he had other options open to him such as the jewlery*

Micha: . . .

Micha: . . .

*The boy would have to think the question over for a minute. There were several types of magic, the range was large. His response would have to be, more catagorized in a sense. From there the details would be worked out. After another moment Micha would make a sign. It was one movement that described exactly what he wanted. Mastema likely wouldn't understand it right off the bat, so he'd either have to ask Micha to spell it out, or get Zio's help on the sign. Micha waited patiently for a response*

Micha: . . .

*Again there would be a momentary pause. Micha had to think about the spelling of the word which he had signed for, and the signs to follow in order to spell it out letter by letter. Once the pause was over, Micha would start signing again. It was a rather short sentance, but got the point across. The letters signed out would read as follows: 'Projectiles'*

*A blink or two would be the only response Micha gave for the moment, unless Mastema had anything he wanted to add, such as when he wanted to start the next lesson. So projectiles were his choice? The kind of projectiles could be narrowed down quite a bit, but in the meantime, that gave Mastema something to work with. The carpet would be slightly discolored by Micha's feet as the snow had melted into the floor by now. The boy seemed well off otherwise, but needed to change out of his current garb which was a little damp from the snow. He likely had a change in clothing in his room, waiting for him*

Micha: . . .

*Micha would disappear into his room shortly after Mastema turned to leave. His current batch of clothing could be left out to air dry or Zio could dry them if it felt compelled to. It was a wonder what had made Mastema sad, and it was probably something he wasn't going to share unfortunately... There had to be a reason for it surely. From inside his room, Micha would look back to the door for a moment, he'd carry on with changing his clothes after that*

Micha: . . . ?

"Oops, sorry there Trill. Need some help?"

Cole looks sheepish and extends a hand down to the little girl, large furry creature forgotten for the moment.

Tegral's breath misted before his mouth, air warmed by a collection of firey wrought reactor fumes, as he stared at the Citadel with an almost bored expression. How long since his activation, and still no assault? He could do it himself, no problem, he was sure of it. He had abilities that'd leave his little buddy in shocked awe, but something, deep down inside, made Tegral want to wait. A surprise show, if you will. Regardless of the reason Tegral sat silently beside the massive crab-like mound beneith KB's steps. "You know if they see you they're likely to start shooting." Tegral finally commented in an off-handed sort of annoyance. Who was he if they started blasting? They'd never hit him, he was sure.

Classy, that was one way to describe the new him. Adorned in a suit of black silk, a creamy white button up shirt beneith the shimmering black of his coat, with shoes polished till they shone like mirors Tegral looked the very image of a gentleman, despite the heavy .454 magnum he idly tapped against his theigh. Medium lengthed blonde hair showered down his brow, glowing in contrast to the shadows splayed across the snow from the protective ledge of the tree line, with crisp blue eyes - sparkling like rare gem stones - half hidden by a pair of thin black sun glasses half sitting off his nose.

A burst of transmission exploded in the back of his head, a contact report from the Nahil: Rogue drone instalation found and engaged. Drones were such a pain in the a**, Tegral reflected as he leaned back against the trunk of some great tree that barely managed safety the first time Tegral's bombers wracked the ground with napalm. Constantly reproducing themselves from what ever scrap they managed to harvest with no other purpose than to create more and more of themselves, arming themselves with what ever - if anything - they could aquire in their salvage. A grim smile crossed his lips, "You know," His voice came out in a rather haughty slip of arrogance, "We could always just call in some of those pretty little elite units of your's and invite him to a snowball fight." Little doubt who him was, Mastema of course, and the pretty little elite units Tegral was refering too were those based off his previous design where he foolishly relied on the pure brutish might of his plasma and sonic cannons.

"I still find it rather annoying you hadn't used air support." Stab for slash Tegral responded. Unlike KB, who either chose too or required the external optical enhancement equipment, Tegral had his built in. "Very likely it wouldn't have affected much," He conceeded that point in an otherwise useless argument, "But a good carpet run would have decimated more than a quarter of his forces and he would have been s**t to replace them." A 3-D grid view of the Citadel's outer barrier, as well as it's internal structure as per a ten month old spy pod shot, sprouted to life in a small display in Tegral's primary HUD. A rather disorientating sight, having three directions of sight, Tegral could see forward, through his eyes, above, if he deploys his spy pod, and around, via gravimetric and magnetism sensory array.

"Along the northern screen of the barrier, use some N-29 heavy assault tanks to buffer the Growler units. Vanguard with a whole mess of those nifty little vampire cyborgs of your's. You would have had the north end secured to open up. Plant some fission charges along the barrier's surface, fluxuation in energy during the blast might have disrupted the field enough to create a chain reaction through the entire shield unit. Hell, might have over loaded the entire defense array, if you were lucky." Waving the comment away he finally stood, snow covering his back and bottom fell away in a shower of white powder when his free hand lightly patted his clothes. The scene of battle played itself on a mock combat grid along his teratery HUD, contending for space for his 'eye' on the Nahil's AI system and it's test run. Not as advanced as his SARAH unit, but still impressive. It boasted a great tactical network system, near impregnable firewalls...only it lacked the creative spark that made his AI truely amazing. The Nahil's prototype was predictable, if one knew how the unit worked to any degree, but SARAH always adapted and changed when she saw her plans failing.

"What do you think about the concept behind a living machine, KB?" He asked, just an off-handed, didn't matter to anything or anyone if the answer was even coherent.