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"Why, thank yous! ...Miss Rios, 'less you’re a missus." He tipped his purple-feathered hat to her, before placing his other hand over her's in an even more eccentric two-handed shake. "And I be hoppen' you'll turn out teh be n' ally." As an afterthought, he commented cheerfully, "...An ally wit' ah strong grip." He smiled his usual, wide grin as the rain washed down his faded vest, soaking his large black hat and causing the decorative purple feather to droop.

"Well, 'tis good teh keep inna good mood, even 'n this kinda we'er." Zasar answered her questions, releasing her hand to gesture to the cloudy sky, and taking a moment to subconsciously (a habit, it seemed) adjust his fancy hat.

He kept the hand resting on the rim of it as he pondered her second enquiry. "No wheres, it seems. Thoughs I would be deli'ed ifn' you're willin' teh have me along." His over cheerful responses did well to make up for Mercy's less then expressive queries.

Larry looked alarmed, but plodded forward anyway, albiet at a slower pace.

"If you're sure you're okay. Just tell me if you need to stop. Ah, I forgot all about it! I'm afraid I've lost my card."

Just like that, the subject was dropped. The change wasn't motived by a lack of concern, but rather belief in Severin's reassurances. Larry's tendency for distraction helped.

"...And apparently became a father. I had to bring her along, because leaving her home alone was just out of the question. Not technically alone, but there wouldn't be anyone there in case of an accident. I was a bit spotty about it, what with the rain and all, but obviously it was inavoidable. Or maybe it was avoidable, and I wasn't thinking clearly enough? I didn't have anyone to ask."

Once Emi sorted through the supplies of food that she had recieved and placed it upstaries, she walked to a cuboard and opened it to reveal bottles full of alcohol. She grabbed the one on the far right and grabbed a glass that was on the shop above it and walked towards the entrance/exit of her shop as she opened the bottle and poured herself a drink.

Once she reached the door she gently kicked it open and sat down on the small ledge that would meet with the street and took a sip from her drink and looked at the sky "I hate the rain" she sighed after saying that, feeling the pain that she had once experienced on that day long ago...as she remembered..she did once like the rain, but after that day, the rain felt colder than normal. She shook her head as she tried to bury the pain and the past back inside of her and took another sip of her drink and sat there in front of the door to her shop and watched as the puddles appeared around her shop and the rain that fell down.

Valerius was never one for directions. He could plot and plan tactics excellently (provided that he had a map), but for these simple excursions out yonder, the lieutenant found himself quite useless. Now it had grown dark and started to rain, and he wasn't anywhere near his base.

On the bright side, he was still surrounded by shops, so he guessed roughly that he must be in Kensington. Valerius thought he heard someone and instinctively took up an observation position in the shadows.

The man appeared to be holding an umbrella with roses and thorns on it. This put Valerius more at ease. Obviously, this man was in camouflage. Val had experience with using the flowers of Kensington as cover; perhaps this man was doing the same.

He surrendered his position and walked up to him. "Good evening." he said, discarding traditional military greetings for a more civilian one.

The Doctor was quiet, trying to make sense of all of this. It seemed that Larry was pulling his leg and making this all up on a whim, but he did have a child with him... He was so sincere about the story too, so honest it was hard not to believe him. the implications of what he said were madness, though.

To solve the debate on truth and lies, Severin peered at the child Larry protected from the rain. He was taken aback by what he saw, she was blue. Blue! Not to mention the horns and... what was going on? Dr. Oddssen was silent, and quite confused.

Grondax was thinking about if his new contact, Nekura, could make dyes as he walked down the street. If he could then the Baron would be able to make a new outfit for one of his favorite dolls. He had been looking for a blood red dye for some time with no success.

As he continued down the street he heard a voice. Grondax did not realize it was directed towards him, but he looked over anyway to see a man almost as large as himself approaching him. The bandaged arm gave the appearance of a ruffian. Grondax had little time for such people as many beggars often approached him. With case and umbrella in one hand he moved the other to his sheathed blade. Grondax spoke carefully with no hint of malice. Beggars sometimes were not what they seemed. "The evening is still young. Let us hope it ends as pleasantly as it began. State your business."

As if to emphasis the threat of a cold, Zasar purposefully adjusted his faded vest, before crossing his arms over his chest and hunching his shoulders. “Not only that, but thisn rain’ll ruin me ‘at.” Although, if said hat had survived as long as it had (and it looked well used), it could most certainly stand a little rain.

“Mm no, I dun know’ve ‘ny taverns, ‘least not ‘round right here. I s’ppose’m not’ve much use, then. Though, yous woudn’t need teh pay, I’d be mor’n deli’ed teh sit’n hava drink with yous.” He offered her a cheesy grin, and moved to absently rub his chin again, his attention towards her whip. “’Tis neat that is, may I ask why yous carry it?”

The sea captain raised his eyebrows questioningly (and possibly a little bit in astonishment) at Mercy’s answer. “’S sounds very... rewardin’, it does.” If one could call it that--but truth be told, those runts needed to be put in line from time to time. It was no use to have them running around in the streets like that. He smirked faintly though, as she continued.

“Why, Miss Rios! If’n I didn’t know much (and to say the least, he didn't--they had just met, hadn't they?), I’d says you’re tryin’ teh gets rid’ve myself. ‘M conf’nent ‘nough teh think we can find’re selves ah tavern. ‘Less yous dislike theh ‘dea’ve me accompanyin’ yous.”