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Jason held back a laugh, simply nodding as if accepting this, when he hadn't planned on going through the official channels to get the bikes or the car. "Why don' we just steal them?" He asked. "It would be a lot quicker. And if you have plans to come back here after we get to Glenville, which I suspect you do, then leave it to me and Schraeder." He knew Ulysses probably wouldn't go along with it, but he wanted tho have all the options on the table.

"Well I've been ****** by the system enough to want some revenge," Jason said bitterly. "And if going through the official channels doesn't get us to Glenville fast, then I will get what we need one way or another." Most people would have stopped talking by now, but Jason wasn't about to quietly go along with what this old man was saying. "I'm sorry if you don't agree with my views, but please don't try to tell me what to do."

Talk about trying an old hermit's patience. His first day interacting with the rest of the world and this is what he gets. Even so, it had to be handled, though it's safe to say Ulysses is not the best at... criticizing politely. "Let's make this very simple, Mr. Grace. I am telling you how things are going to happen. The reason being: I know what's going on, or at the very least have a much better grasp of it than you do. Normally when in a situation where you know less than another individual, it is not only the smart thing but the proper thing to defer to the expert- in this case myself. Now I would appreciate your willful and understanding assistance and support, but if I can't get that, we don't need you tagging along. The choice is yours, Mr. Grace, but if you do stick around, remember I am leading this expedition. We didn't come requesting your company- you came to us, asking to join in."

This probably wasn't going to go over all that well, but what the hell- the world was ending, what could you expect? Ulysses was just amazed that Terrian had suggested this young man of all those around to aid them. Then again, Terrian had also said he couldn't be trusted, and was obviously not completely tethered to reality.

Again, Ulysses was pleased to hear reason and rationale from Stetson Schraeder. He was also a little ashamed at responding so brashly to Jason Grace- and again, Schraeder was right.

"My apologies for speaking so... Harshly, Jason. Be that as it may, though, I need you to trust my leadership. That does not mean I'm closed to suggestions, however. This exchange is proof that I am not always in the right and I'm willing to admit that.

"Now, how about that car?"

By now the depot was clearly in view and less than half a mile from their position. It would be a brief and quiet walk there considering the circumstances.

Paul shrugged. "Zoidberg, anything intelligent nearby?" That'd take Zoidberg a minute - searching for minds at range was not a simple task. Sure, they left signals, made patterns in the ether that to the experienced were easy to find. The problem was that the search zone grew practically exponentially as range increased. To search for intelligence three meters away was easy; a simple matter of about a hundred and ten cubic meters to go over. Zoidberg could search, reasonably quickly, about a thousand cubic meters a second, if he wasn't looking for hidden signatures. The problem was that at 50 meters, that balooned to 31500 cubic meters, and at 300 it grew to over a million. And to exclude areas like areas below the ground required Zoidberg to psychically sense where such excludable regions were, which added time in its own right. This also completely ignored the increased difficulty of scanning at range. A small slice of this sphere could be scanned, indeed any given area could be, but the further the area the greater the difficulty. This, too, scaled exponentially (though at a much slower rate) so far as they could judge, which made searching for distant targets at best time-consuming and at worst exhausting.

Under the circumstances, however, Paul figured it would probably be safe. There might be some big pokemon or maybe a bear or something, so Paul would bring a rifle and Zoidberg would come too and nobody would get hurt. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Nothing. Paul was intimately familiar with Murphy's Law; he had mocked it for years and it had won every time, proving that Paul had the potential to be the slowest learner on the planet.

"Yeah, so if Zoidberg doesn't turn anything up it's just me, you, him, and Oddjob. The charmander." Paul drew a pokeball from a pocket on his harness. "He is in a pokeball because he would eat all that cardboard given half a chance and then... well, we're eating, I'll spare you details. Anyway, if you're nervous about going out, I can go with you or we can send one or the other. Not like Oddjob would be any comfort, but hey, I can always offer it." Paul stood abruptly, grabbing the dirty dishes and taking them to the sink. At Alyssa's question, Paul let out a chuckle. "Nah, that's beef. There are still some cows. Sausage is cheap, if you know where to look." This sausage had not so long ago belonged to a Woodmount soldier who had brought it as trail rations, awkward as it may have been. He, however, was dead, and had no need for it any longer. How convenient.

Alyssa had not seen a cow in ages. In the south, cows wre either roaming free, herded and gaurded by crazed farmers, or slaughtered due to panic of food shortage. The fact that she was eating what she thought to be an animal on the verge of extinction made two neurons in her brain misfire out of guilt.

She finished eating.

"We can simply go there and move on, I will not need anyone with me while I get my bag and that way we do not have to return here." She didn't like being in his house, it was nothing against it in and of itself, but more because she liked big empty spaces or abandoned buildings that were being reclaimed by nature.

She was blunt about her motives, "I just want to get this over with, whatever they know about me and why, if they are harmless or this is a ruse then I will be on my way as though I was never here." She looked into his eyes, a social move she misunderstood, "thank you." Alyssa looked away and furrowed her brow.

She had not thanked anyone in a long time, and to mean it, even longer.

((I was wondering if you'd catch that))

"Yea, hobo, old guy with a fancy suit, clearly missing a few hammers from his shed, you probably passed him, he left just before you arrived. Honestly I wasn't paying much attention, quite a few crazies live in that warehouse district, most of them are harmless, I evicted the dangerous ones obviously." As soon as Aaron clicked his seatbelt in place Roger began to lift the craft, it vibrated at first but became steady once fully off the ground. As if drifting on the wind it moved forward until it came in contact with a large set of double doors over the rail tracks. On ether side of the door two long slabs of concrete hung, held in place by three vertical I beams. As Roger pushed through the doors the slab nearest the doors shifted up, and the slab farthest shifted down. The first few feet of the doors had been plated in the top of a couple large wooden tables, and rounded at the corners, so even though the doors pinched in on it, the aluminum bumpers would just slide past.

Behind them the doors swung past closed then back, they settled without much of a fight. Out in the open Roger could move much faster "Roger, we'll be heading over towards the interstate bridge just past the Grove, but first we have to make a stop south of town, by the depot, don't worry about taking backroads." He blinked at Maddy's orders and the ELTPACH banked sharply to the left, accelerating as it turned.

"I don't know anything about giving you new eyes kid, I'm no doctor, but it's a long trip, maybe I'll think of something" The mean tone took her by surprise, she wasn't exactly a social humming bird to begin with, and she had no idea how to respond to that so she just moved on to triple checking everything for the ride. Water was in the tool box right to her left, she could reach it without unbuckling, basic tools were in the toolbox above that. She'd put a plastic crate of odd batteries in the bed just beyond Roger, if he got hungry he could snag one easily. They didn't have any food, which would make for a long day but shouldn't be a problem. Beyond that it was just the four of them on the craft, and as a hat Smiffy didn't even contribute a pound, so they could pull top speed for a long time, once they get onto the highways.

The entrance to the warehouse district came up before them, seven years ago there would have been a maned guard post with one of those arms that goes up and down like at rail road crossings. Maddy had scavenged the arm shortly after moving in, and the guard house had been crushed long before she came to town, apparently by some large, hard, jagged, probably rock type pokemon. Similar wounds had been inflicted on one of the first warehouses on the road, but even the cracked open edges of the metal was rusted over so whatever it was had claimed it's property a long time ago. They didn't come to a stop, or even slow down much, instead Roger turned the craft so it seemed to be sliding sideways, then gave it a boost and they arced out onto the road. They were far enough out of town that nobody was around yet.

When Ryan and Juno made it to the hospital, they were greeted cordially and swiftly shown through the corridors toward Tobias’ room, where he’d been laid not more than an hour or two before. They got more than one arched eyebrow from nurses because of the quick turnaround, but about thirty seconds before they reached his room, there was a tremendous commotion involving an inordinate amount of shrieking – both female and male. It came directly from his room, was followed by a fit of giggling, a whispered, “You can’t trust me,” and just as they arrived at the tiny chamber holding him, a pale face flashed a childish grin over its shoulder, ice-bright eyes met Juno’s, and a sable hat was briefly tilted to cover them before its owner completed a spin out of existence, revealing through the doorframe a bleary-eyed Tobias, lying in his bed.

Tobias’ first sight when he woke up from a dreamless sleep was that same grinning gaze and flashing memories of being held in an underground chamber and repeatedly sung sweetly into unconsciousness by the green-eyed ball of pastel fluff that was always at his side. Then, the face turned with a giggle, warned melodiously not to trust him, and vanished, leaving him looking at Juno and Ryan for explanation.

---

There was no one in Paul’s immediate vicinity. Good thing he checked, though, ‘cuz if he hadn’t, oh, man. Oh. Man.

---

Maddy also moved unhindered to her southerly goal, although she did attract brief attention from the citizenry as they finished putting out fires and organizing whatever nearby that required organizing.

---

A few of the ubiquitous guards in Woodmount eyed Tavish and Lexi warily atop their mount, and they murmured to one another as though uncertain of whether to ask his business; it was clear they'd have unwelcome attention soon, if they had not already attracted it.

---

Shonevsky found himself engaged in unquestionably frustrating dialogue with the accountants in charge of loaning out vehicles. "Good morning, Mr. Shonevsky," said a short, balding man with silver-white hair that stood swept back and up in a blazing horseshoe around his shining dome of a skull. His beer gut seemed like a more solid mass than a medicine ball and his thin-rimmed glasses hung in the wrinkles of his soft, doughy features, the combination of ferocity in his hair and dopy simplicity in his face giving him roughly the appearance of a troll. This was Jonas Sharpe, who had in fact been an accountant for over five decades before the Cataclysm and had no intentions of changing that for any reason whatsoever. His voice was brittle, as though at all times prepared to be assaulted, but he at least tried to be polite. "What can I do for you and your... little coterie, back there?"

Staring at this man, Ulysses found himself completely nonplussed- there was simply nothing outstanding about Jonas Sharpe, and the geezer tended to trust himself when it came to evaluation of character. Without a pause, he answered, "Looking to get a car, sir."

"Hm! That so? Well, I'll need your IDs and theirs." Jonas turned towards a hawk-nosed woman. "Gladys, they want a car, where're the forms?"

She squawked back, "The forms for what?"

"The forms for the vehicle permits."

"Which ones?"

"I forgot to ask, I'll ask them. What kind of car are you looking to get, Mr. Shonevsky?" While he spoke, Jonas pulled out three DMV-style forms and a clipboard from boxes underneath the simple table he was sitting behind.

((This conversation is being completed as we speak; hold your calm, Stetson and Jason; it will be worth it. This will take a while in-game, so it’s fine to whatever while they chat, naturally.))