Welcome to Gaia! ::

Doors squealed in the floor above him as Derek saw a new arrival pull in. It was a ship he hadn't seen before, and he was curious. Checking to make sure he didn't see anyone he knew, he quickly jogged up the stairs. His eyes widened as he stepped behind some boxes.
The ship was unlike any he'd seen. It had two main support propellers and four large stabilizers. He imagined the rear stabilizers were also used for turning. This was massively different from the design of his father's airships, which used sails for movement and collapsible, downward pointing wings for buoyancy, with a rear rudder in the eastern style. The stabilizer propellers were also much
smaller. Indeed, this ship intrigued him.
Derek saw the collector approach the ship, and shrank back. He heard the exchange of money. 900 shillings, he thought as his stomach growled.

He knew it was wrong. He knew he could have a meal any time he wished it, and he did wish it. All he had to do was turn himself in as a runaway, and he'd be back home in a matter of hours. Back to his old life. On second thought, maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.
He gripped the gun in his pocket as he watched the man from the ship step down the stairs. He followed at a distance, keeping the man in sight as much as he could. Derek hadn't had to use his gun for anything since he ran away, as his life of adventure had turned out to be a little less than glamorous, with him never even having ventured out of the city. Still, the man before him had to have some kind of money, and he didn't want much. Just a shilling or two for a hot meal.
Derek almost lost the man in the crowd on the main floor of the docks, but managed to keep him somewhat in his line of sight. The moment of truth was on him: did he really want to try to rob this man? Another rumble from his stomach said yes. Judging where the man would end up next, Derek ran around the other side of the main support to try to catch him by surprise, hiding in a gap between an office and a large cement block..

[[Sorry for not posting in forever, busy stuff, and not knowing whhat I should post, kinda hindered me. ^_^;;;;]]

Meanwhile, in a distant port, two air pirates were finishign the repairs on their ship.

"Yanno, Chief," Sherry said, "I didn't think airpiratign was the smartest thing to do in the first place."

"Ossie can't handle such STRESS, but wwe must do whhat we must. I'll know to never touch such meat ever again."

"That girl wasn't worth the hassle."

"OR the money!"

~*~

Moe, who was tinkering on some handiwork in the ship, sneezed, accidentally breaking whhat she was workign on.

"O-Oh no, I'll have to start all over! At least I made the bullets already..."

She looked around.
"I should look for some medical textbooks in the city, to see if they'd be of any help back home..."

Ignored… the blasted old fart was ignoring him! All be it he was far older then the “old fart” by over forty five decades, but that was beside the point and a detail unknown to him. Being ignored and then dealt with at the whims of another; as if his voice was no more than a meaningless summer breeze. It was far more irritating then his self-control could harbor “You insolent little mortal! Don’t you dare pretend as if I’m nonexistent! A-nd an-the-” Zerath yipped fiercely while the ship changed course to land; he then bit his tongue with the grace of a gazebo toppling forwards into shambles, or rather as he, again, lost his footing and fell forwards into the bars and then fell upon his chin, tongue still between his teeth. ‘I’m going to make them pay for this indignity…’ he thought while his face panged into one of confused pain.

The room was briefly removed of Zerath’s banter while he dizzily failed to say “My tongue!” Zerath proceed to look pathetic, again, while the ship set down into the dock, were he regained his bearings.

When the ship landed a conversation was already midway though and Zerath, impatiently and quietly, listened into the conversation being held; it was an old habit, if he stopped talking, for whatever reason it may be, and others began he would not speak again until all other parties had quitted themselves. It was a quality leant quickly when dealing with homicidal psychopaths. Zerath was about to speak when the old fart again spoke, and his mouth held agape as Searil spoke. ‘…is this bearded fool speaking to himsel- … I can use this!’ he though while his mouth curved into a devious grin and an explosion sounded. ‘that could be useful as well’ he thought as his grin deepened. Zerath looked to Searil with a menacing smile. as could be expected from Zerath, were he needed to be as keen as an eleven blade he was even more blunt then a dwarf’s hammer and twice as stupid. “Was it fun?” he chimed happily “Because “I’ve thought of a frighteningly amusing game!” he sang with joy ‘the game is me bluffing, you acting like a stupid mortal and me being let off this ship now to come back latter and unexpected to then trap you when you are asleep and then kill you over and over again!’ he thought with excitement, but he forgot that even mage apprentices were know for anything but blatantly stupidity and unimaginable naivety; additionally, he could have waited for a larger explosion to happen randomly rather than one that seemed a relative e firecracker.

OoC: writers block ^^;

Cornelius's intuition bit him in the a** once again. "Are you sure you want to do this?" His hand let go of the watch, letting it hang.
Rufus already looked at the man. "Bugga'! Cornelius, ya want me to-"
"No, I can deal with this quite simply." Cornelius turned his head to look at the man, giving a look with his right eye. "Have you ever killed anyone? Shot anyone? I will tell you right now, if you refuse to take that gun from my back, the last thing you will see is about 20 pieces of double-ought buckshot entering your head." Cornelius blinked. "But, seeing how disparate your voice sounds, this would be the better choice." His right elbow jolted back, in an attempt to knock the firearm away.
Searil turned his attention back to the wounded demon. This "conversation" had fallen from his control. He began to reel though his mind what the blasted thing could have done to caused that explosion, did he have the ability to make others combust? He had to play this smoother now.
Alice froze. "What did you do?" She asked the jailed man. She tensed with agitation that he could kill with the simple bat of an eye and a whim.

Cornelius turned around, his right hand holding the scabbard of the sabre as the left took the handle, flashing a small bit of the blade before he what the thief was now doing. He let go of the sword, it tipped back securely into it's sheath. "Give me your name, now." His gold eyes gave a direct stare towards him.
Rufus placed his right one hand into the duster. Turning as well to observe the man better. "....How old are ya boy?" He questioned.

“I did nothing, not blink, not think intently, I did not even have to stare!” he said with a hearty grin ‘I did not even have to do it.’ He thought to himself haply as he briefly thought of his next move. Actually starting something with the spell slinger would still have been beyond foolish, no telling what kind of magic spell he would have unleashed, time, too, was sparse, he did not know when the real culprit would announce itself nor did he care to find out when it would. If Zerath went out through the hallways, the likely hood of running into the real culprit would increase tenfold and the odds of the mage keeping an eye on him was so nigh it was not even worth considering the possibility of the mage not and that was assuming he got the mage to both agree to let him out of the cage and off the ship. No, he had to act with an air of indomitability; the cage nor the wizard held him at bay, he simply was not provoked to the point of seeing either as even an obstacle much less an actually threat. That was the presence he would try to evoke.

“Now then, mortal, less you seek try my ire further; I will take my leave of both yourself and your vessel.” Zerath said dully while maintaining his grin. ‘Window… Need a …crap… no window…’ he thought while taking a brief glace about his surroundings; he could not simply turn into a raven and then dart out a window before the wizard realized it was a ruse. That said, he did not have the time to dally, if the wizard thought back mere moments to when he had panicked, his façade would fail yet again. Had it not been a last second gambit he would not have even thought of doing what he was about to do.

Taking in an fretful breath Zerath performed a hastened transformation, not the wisest thing to do in his position; he was still weakened and he was changing into an exceedingly vulnerable form, but then again, if he fought he would have lost any ways and he needed to at least pout up a front of strength, and doing what he was about to do would do that. Sadly he forgot to take the full stat of his body into account.

Zerath’s form was engulfed by thin and darkened mist and crimson static; an effect cased by showing off, turning to something too small or, as in Zerath’s case, turning into something while still recovering from being burnt to cinders and being broken in half from the experience. The form he was taking on shrank rapidly while his body cracked and popped from the unpleasant experience. His clothing melded with his flesh while oily coal black fur erupted from his skin. ‘this… was a huge mistake…’ Zerath thought unto himself when he felt his bones crushing themselves while they struggled to condense; it was by no means a pleasant feeling.

The pain became all but unbearable and he collapsed from it onto his palms; luckily the form he was taking on walked on all fours and thus the motion was not out of place, even if early. Shortly their after he began to grow the finale characteristic of his chosen form, his mouth elongated into a shot muzzle and he grew a tail while his hands and feet morphed into padded paws. When he had finished the metamorphoses his form was that of a black furred cat, wich immediately sat down and panted twice before looking around again. He soon spied Searil’s feet and looked up to the wizard’s face; showing plainly that Zerath had not changed his eyes, and were still displayed as a ruby in the left and a sapphire isolated in an sea of shadow for his right. ‘My back hurts worse now.’ Zerath whimpered inside his mind while he started, with an unsteady hind half, towards the iron bars, which were then too widely spaced to block his path. ‘maybe I shrank to much… he is bloody huge now!’ he thought dimly with matching eyes while he continued to think of unvoiced threats revolving around destroying Searil’s shoes and giving the mage blisters if he was stepped on.