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While Shooting, Kaiza Complains about the fact that'll be a while before he can get his new form
"Why cant i get my new form earlier Melvin? AWNSER ME!"
*gets hotter due to shalzar*
"Cant you calm down shalzar?"

"It's not very clear." Angela's words came as a natural response. It wasn't very clear. Not at all. It was fairly polluted. Compared to how the air SHOULD be, it was basically disgusting. But she didn't feel like lecturing the young man. She didn't really care if he was slacking off. She was on her shift, too, and probably didn't belong out here either, but she wasn't getting lectured, so it was common courtesy not to lecture him on something she needed lecturing on.

[Lemme just intro my two guys...and I'll figure some way to jump into the story.]
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"Mule, hand me that grenade, will ya?" Jeeves asked in his wheezy, old man's voice.
"Yes sir...would you mind being careful? I don't want to have that thing explode...could you tell me what you plan to do?" came the expected telepathic reply as Mule gingerly picked up the grenade.
It was an old, round M67 grenade, similar in shape to an apple. Using a roll of duct tape, Jeeves taped down the handle on it for safety, tipped the grenade over, and using his goggles and a small laser cutter, cut a small hole in the bottom.
Slowly, he brought it back over again, dumping the gunpowder inside into a small container.
"No fuze...and a very archaic [sp? Gotta fix my FF spellchecker] blast method...I'm thinking this is a fake." Mule said.
"My thoughts exactly, but it's the explosive we need, not the grenade itself." Jeeves said, tossing the now empty grenade over his shoulder.
Quick as a flash, Mule caught it and got to work removing the detonator.
As he was doing that, the door to the small shop opened. "Hello there." Jeeves said, coughing loudly.
"Sorry." he said. "Yeah, I uh, ordered a weapon..." the man said nervously.
"Yeah, you where the uh..." "The railgun, sir." Mule said. "Ah yes, the rail gun. Here we are..." Jeeves said, lifting a dangerous looking gun out from behind the counter. It looked dangerous because it was cobbled together from various parts.
Jeeves blew some dust off and traded the gun for a large sum of money.
He sat in a small chair next to Mule, still working on disarming the grenade.
He counted some money, looking around the dark, dusty shop and giving another cough.
"This war could get quite profitable...if we play our cards right..." he wheezed.
"My thoughts exactly sir. Weapons alone could cover your retierment [sp?] and all the other stuff will just be more money in our pockets."
The thought made Jeeves laugh, and he laughed his wheezing laugh as Mule silently disarmed the grenade and tossed it on the bulging cloth sack laying on the floor, overflowing with junk.

((Kualus, is your character still an elemental, or are they already displaced? I'm not sure what they are right now. And elementals can't speak to humans))

((No. I just haven't been able to get on much. Not sure about the others xp This happens to me a lot))

Crissy wandered to a balcony that she hadn't even known existed. Actually, it was more of a look out post/observation deck. The air was hazy and cool. She didn't particularly like it. Out in the distance, were the mountains, and on the other side were supposedly the lands where men and women were dieing. The bloody fields of battle. She felt more suited there than in this new form, trying to learn manners and such. Her "master" had little time for her, and almost seemed to avoid her, so she had to learn most of it the hard way through the ridicule of others who didn't understand why she couldn't act civilized and normal like the rest of them.

((It's kind of hard to move the plot along much with so little people))

((Don't worry, I'll come bail you out! ^^))

Angela stared off into the distance again. "Yes, yes. You are all so fearful of the scent of death..." She continued to rant at a whispered volume, muddling the words together into some kind of code she often spoke in. Eventually, she even ceased to do that, letting her eyes into some kind of haze.

Rayven hissed as she stalked out into town in this useless body. Her master had ordered her to go get a gun for him, so she stalked into a weapon shop and over to the counter. Behind it were two suspicious looking men. She doubted they would try to stiff her even though she was about 13 in their eyes, so it seemed like the right place. "I need a gun. I honestly don't care what it is. There were no specifics. But I need a gun."

Rayven picked up the Desert Eagle, examined it carefully for a few minutes, then, experimentally, pulled a blank she had been carrying and fired it off. Then, she set it back on the table and went through a similar procedure with the AK-47, then the Mossberg 500. She sighed as she put down the last gun, considered the three, and shook her head. "What has humanity fallen to?" She mumbled as she picked up the Mossberg 500. She examined it again, then turned to leave. She stopped halfway to the door as if she had remembered something formally forgotten, and turned back to the men. She considered the two. The world was blissfully clean of honest men, but they weren't too dishonest. She returned the table, pulled something out of her overcoat, and dropped it on the table.

Out of the thickly woven bag a few coins were pushed out. The others were giving the bag its size.

"You should be able to buy an early retirement and funeral with that. Just make sure to spend it quickly. That kind of money usually ends up attracting pests." And with that, Rayven strut out the door with the gun under her coat.

Melvin watched Angela with unease, 'Maybe that's because we're normal' he shouted at her in his head. He would never say that aloud, for fear that there might be consequences. Then again, knowing her there might as well not be. She hardly seemed to care about anything, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"What do you think about the Displaced as some of the researchers call them?" he suddenly asked. He wasn't sure if he would even get an answer, but it was worth a try.