Welcome to Gaia! ::

He reached up and rubbed his head as everyone started talking. It was just making his headache worse and that wasn't helping his already thin stretched temper any. His father said his calm was legendary but it was starting to see the bad parts that always happen in legends. Why did they all have to talk so loud?

One thing did catch his attention though. Something he knew he'd said himself before that had gotten no where. A slight giggle slipped past his lips before he caught it and looked up at the owner of the voice. "You'd probably be amazed at how useless a suggestion like that is. Sure you can -say- that everyone should work together to figure things out and you're just gonna get ignored while they go on figuring things out for themselves and ignoring you because they think they're right. Human ... or whatever .... condition." He nodded hoping maybe the movement would shake some of the fluff out of his head. "But if you want additions? We're going somewhere none of us are going to like probably. We'll probably be hurt and attacked and it's going to suck and it'll probably end up being the weirdest experience of your life up to date."

He glared at the guy he was talking about before sighing and turning his glare on the misogynistic idiot. "... are you serious? Where the hell are you from? the eighteen hundreds?" How could he even survive with an opinion like that. "You know ... i hope she breaks your nose for a comment like that. Males don't do well in positions of power either. All they do is end up trying to see who's the better 'man' and ******** everything up too. Read a history book or something you ignorant .... god i can't even think of a proper word."

He hated people like that. He was so unbelievably rude to everyone for no reason other than he thought they were better than them.

"Rooster, dumbass. I'm a rooster." There was a complete difference. The tail, for one thing. But this wasn't the time or the place. Either he needed to get in control of this bus, or he needed to get someone trustworthy in control of the bus. At this point, everyone seemed to be vying for themselves. The odds were poor. A regular gambler, J'dyr was not about to put his lot in if he could not be guaranteed a win, or at least a return.

Wrinkling his nose, he turned on poor unfortunate soul trying to wrangle all the teens into a cohesive unit. It was harder than wrangling cats.

"Okay, you," he crowed, pointing at the leader-wannabe, "can sit down and shut the ******** up. But if we need someone to point out the obvious, I'll let you know, a'ight?" Glad he had that settled. Idiot #1 out of the way, J'dyr turned on the scholarly little punk trying to sass Shaol.

"Okay and you, you nasty little ********, can also shut the ******** up. First of all, I don't see why you're standing up for her, you don't even know her, and for all you know, she could be the dumbest waste of flesh, so really, you ought to investigate your assets before you go firing off your mouth. And secondly, concerning that mouth of yours, I suggest you read a theasaurus before you try to impress someone with your wit. You're about as sharp as a spoon."

Idiots. While the cadet was never fond of burning bridges before they were built, he was quite positive neither of those two had anything valuable to bring to the table. As long as they were preaching from their pedestal, he had no need for their holier-than-thou opinions. Which left him with Chel and Grasshead. Which left him with Grasshead, basically.

"Hey, hey, look. You just pay up, you know you owe me ten credits, and I will totally vouch for you as captain, right? And I mean, what's anyone else got? As long as they keep squabbling like idiots, our two heads are better than all their ones, right?"

He had been throwing a tantrum. A tantrum with screaming and clawing and mostly over nothing important, mostly over cake and partially just to be difficult. To get his way.

It tugged at his mind with a sharp tang-- like blood, like the crackle of knuckles and he was there, on a bus, without even really knowing what a bus was, but he was there and he shifted in his seat, predatory eyes already watching everything in an instant.

He didn't question it-- most of his life was spent watching people fade in and out of Phineas' shadows, from one room to another or from one area of the world to another. Not that he really understood that, now. He was still a boy, barely seven-- but it was an unfair advantage. He was sharp in a feral way, balled up with a terrible coat of armor that he charged at the world with-- Nixir was often told he was given a better name, when his so called father, Hush, had been entrusted with him.

It lasted about a day before Nixir bit his leg so hard Hush had needed a botchd surgery, and he'd aptly been renamed "eviscerate" in the elf's native tongue.

He slid off the seat, standing at about the same height as they did, a barefoot little thing, bared teeth and had to withhold the urge to give in to being a little s**t.

"Where are we?" His voice wasn't quiet, just low and emphatic. Demanding. Greedy. Wild eyes looked around the bus, stalking forward and shoving some feathered creature out of his way(he'd seen stranger, and he assumed it was a costume), eventually just crossing his arms impetuously.

"You're all really ugly. Just thought y'should know."

The whole group was starting to degenerate into random angry groupings, and she could hear them yelling or arguing with each other. The "Bookworm" went down the front side of the bus, there were stairs or something there, and proceeded to mope. Or something like that.

Having lost interest in the one who vainly attempted to rally them, Chel sat down in the seat she had been leaning on, propping her legs on the seat across the little aisle. This was starting to get fairly boring, and boredom generally led to mischief. She wasn't the bane of her father's existence for nothing. And that was her claim to fame, in the Temple at least. Not that any of the Brother's knew that. Chel was very good at putting the blame on others. Ohhhh, yes.

Ignoring the rest of the chattering, noisy rabble that were slowly filling the bus, she steepled her fingers in front of her face, fingers touching the opposite as she drummed them against each other, her elbows resting on her ribcage. Chel kept her eyes open, a bemused expression on her face, as she started forming her illusions, concentrating on what she wanted to see, at the same time watching the others to see their reactions.

Hopefully this'd be good.

If anyone was paying enough attention to their surroundings, instead of arguing with each other, they'd notice the area outside the bus slowly changing colors, turning to an angry, bloody, vibrant red, bits of black dripped over the metal trees as if someone had taken an ink brush or a bucket of paint and sprayed it everywhere. There were vague black shapes that flitted distantly on the "horizon," giving a more ominous touch to the scene, and if everyone got real quiet, they might even hear a far off scream. She threw that part in just because she could, though she doubted anyone would pay attention enough to notice and appreciate the art.

Of course, it wasn't actually real, which could be easily determined by touch. But then, who was about to reach outside the bus to touch the sharp, metal branches? The illusion itself only extended a few feet from the windows of the bus. Anything larger and she wouldn't have the same control over it. Chel certainly wouldn't be able to function normally or pay attention if it was larger.

Which is what she needed, and had learned to specialize in. None of the Brothers knew about her power, though she could kind of understand why. According to Father, she had to hide them, couldn't let them know she could do it. She didn't understand it growing up, but it made sense now. Being killed as a "sacrifice" wasn't on the top of her to-do list.

She'd found ways of displaying it anyways, though, very effectively, too. Making scapegoats for herself was so amusing.

J’dyr stumbled back as Nixir shoved him aside, focusing too intently on the exchange in hand to be aware of newcomers. The rooster boy bit back a growl, sizing up the pugnacious male before grunting softly and shifting back to Shaol’s side. Oh sure, Grasshead was kind of bullish and not real classy, but J’dyr knew him. Sort of. In a ‘I think I’ve met you and that’s all I have to go on’ sort of way. He was, honestly, the least annoying of anyone else on the bus. Not including himself, of course, but the cadet liked to consider his ability to tick folks off a certain charm one acquired with great practice and skill.

“Oh, do shut up,” J’dyr snapped at Iko. “No one cares about your stupid little morals. What are you, her knight in shining armor? If she was half the person you thought she was, she’d stick up for herself.” Duh. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, sighing as the almost-but-not-quite genius meandered off to go hide in stairwell. Yeah, that’s right, you stay down there, J’dyr thought to himself as he turned eyes back to his newfound ally.

“C’mon now, time’s a ticking. Tick, tock, tick, tock.” He pointed out the window. “Things are changing, see, so if you want your chance, you better make your choice before we reach our Final Destination.” The rooster rolled his eyes and glanced back over his shoulder at the pushy newcomer. “As for you, Growly” he waggled a finger at Nixir, “you can hang with us. Or you can deal with the whiny little brats over there. They complain a lot. Don’t believe in us. Shun the nonbelievers, and all that.”

A thought caught the cadet’s attention. “Yo, Grasshead, Growly,” he crooned, peering at his two new…allies. “You know what we do to spineless whiners back home? We make them walk the plank. Look, those two sods have already lined up by the door.” Jad’s grin spread. The terrain had changed (he still hadn’t noticed it was all Chel’s doing). “There’s two of them, three of us.” The cadet turned back to the idiots holed up like little animals. “What do you say, gents? Join or die, that’s how it goes.”

Okay, maybe not die. But J’dyr could bluff, being a gambler and all, and if he could pull this off, well, he’d be sitting pretty. They’d made this personal, after all. He was the better man, whether they were going to admit it or not.

The Bookworm was unlike anyone she'd ever met. She'd been in plenty of unfortunate pickles where death was imminent, and this one was like a little mouse hole compared to a crater. No one had told her to shut up yet. They had, so for, only tried to steal her chair, and she'd made damn sure they knew they weren't getting it.

Back home, her insolent behavior might have earned her a pair of black eyes and a blade against the neck, and Nina was reveling in her success. Clearly, she could get away with whatever she wanted. So far, everyone here was nothing but talk, and that one with the feathers who kept insulting Iko and trying to control the situation (one, which Nina was sure, couldn't be) was really beginning to piss her off.

She watched, horrified, as the world outside their little bus began to change. Had they finally reached the place of judgement, then? Or, her heart sank, maybe they'd already left and were arriving at hell.

Nina tossed a thoughtful look at Iko, and her hopes lifted an inch off the ground. As long as he was around, there was a pretty good chance this was all just a dream, and a rather hilarious one at that.

She blinked at the barefoot newcomer who'd called them all ugly, and then smiled at him. The corners of her lips twitched. He was her new favorite; after Iko, who got points simply for familiarity, and for standing up for her.

"Oooh!" Nina cooed devilishly, and aimed a pinch at his cheek, "aren't you adorable?"

When the others started talking about throwing the Bookworm and his new buddy off the bus, something twitched at the back of her head; a memory, and a lesson learned. The first time she'd met Iko, the circumstances hadn't been completely unlike this one, and she had actually taken something away from the experience.

There was strength in numbers. Nina wasn't sure how useful he'd be, but Iko was a ready made friend. He was already on her side.

Somewhere in the attic of her rattled brain, a lightbulb clicked on.

"Heeeey, Grasshead," she called, remained glued to her chair, and aimed a gentle kick at the back of his legs. It was designed only to get attention, and not to harm. "What do you say I give you the chair and you make the Rooster pick the stick out of his a**. Its gotta be puncturing a lung its so high up in there. "

Raised a Trome, Nina was a natural barter.

"And yes, by all means, let's start killing people off," Nina declared jovially, in a sing-song voice and attempted to play on the Rooster's conception of leadership, "This place is much too crowded, and, anyways- I don't know about you guys but I definitely want to see what happens when we show up (wherever we're supposed to be going) without those boys. 'Cause the reality is that whoever put us on this bus, probably did for a reason, and they're probably pretty powerful if they can make it the way that it is. And I personally can't wait to tell him you're the ones responsible for killing off some of the... recruits."

If that was what they were. Nina knew she was shooting in the dark, but she didn't really care. This was such FUN.

He touched the corners of his book and pressed so the rather large volume shrank down to a size he could stick in his pocket. They were all idiots. Maybe even the girl from the last dream but at least she was a familiar one. He could deal with her for the time being. The others? They would probably end up dead under the weight of their own egos at this rate. He was remembering why he liked the company of books over people. People just got in the way thinking that they could muscle their way through their lives. The ones that did that always ended up dead and those that sat in the back and pulled strings were the ones that survived.

If only he could figure out how to pull the strings here. They all seemed to have their heads so far up their asses that it would probably be useless to try to use their strings. Leaning back against the side of the stairs he watched the crowd and drummed his fingers on the plastic.

They'd all been brought here for a reason, whatever that was, and they were being taken somewhere. The question was where and why. Last time it had been something about being 'real' and being 'alive'. So maybe this was another thing like that. Someone would be chosen for something. He looked at the group of ... whatever they were and tried to figure out who had a good chance. Given the nature of the ride so far ...

He paused here to look out the window and almost jumped at the change in scenery. It hadn't looked that way before but knowing what happened last time that wasn't all that strange. Shaking his head he turned his attention back to his proper line of thought.

... the ride so far. Well any of them could be nasty enough with how they'd all acted so far. His salvation would be in finding which ones he could make 'friends' with and using them until the end.

"Everyone should just take five minuets, take a few deep breaths, and stop trying to shove your ego up everyone else's a**. We're on a bus. It's a mode of city transportation. It's taking us somewhere preprogramed into it's ... whatever. There's no getting off, not if you want to stay in one piece, and there's no way to control it so there's also no point in fighting over who gets to sit in the chair. At this point it's just another chair so you're just fighting over it for the sake of fighting. We're also here for some reason and honestly if you want to start killing each other over it go right ahead. Just take it to the back of the bus so you keep the blood in one place. I don't want to step it in and i'm sure no one else wants to either. Also, get it through your heads that -none- of us are from the same world, time, whatever, so stop talking like everyone knows and believes and grew up the same way you did. It's pointless and none of it matters in this place."

Pain from her hand shot up the length of her arm like a bullet when the thing -if only she'd spotted its teeth, earlier!- bit her. Nina's face turned white, and she grimaced. Several colorful swear words flew out of her mouth as she yanked her limb away from the offender.

"You disgusting little b***h," Nina hissed venom at Nixir, and her eyes flashed red as she concluded that she'd probably been a little hasty earlier when she'd decided she liked him. Clearly, he needed to be stomped on, or deserved to have his eyes poked out, or maybe she'd slice his teeth out- anything to get back at him for hurting her. Later, of course, when there was no one around to watch her.

That was how she worked. Under cover, because she was smart like that.

"I better not get a disease!" She declared loudly, and cradled her injured hand (it bled a little, but the pain had, by now, receded to a dull throb) to her chest. It would be obvious, to anyone paying attention, that she was making a show for the sake of attention.

"Bookworm," Nina's eyebrows flew up into her hairline, and she regarded Iko with a kind of pitiful expression on her face. She leaned forwards slightly, with her good arm still tightly wrapped around the back of the chair, and spoke very slowly; as though she was addressing a three year old, or simply somebody painfully stupid; "they are not going to kill each other. They are going to kill you."

It was important that he understood at least that. It was an oversight she couldn't afford to let him make.