Welcome to Gaia! ::

"How to deal with orcs, for one. We'll be skirting their territory on our journey. We'll go through the forest, as I said. They've been up in arms recently over humans infringing on their territory...of course...you could be fifty miles away from any orc border and they'd still consider the land your standing on as "prospective" orc territory. As long as we're quiet enough I shouldn't expect a great deal of trouble, though..." Henry shrugged.

"They are, of course well within your actual physical capacity." He gave Tomorrow a side glance, as if only just now sizing him up.

"Something I seriously have to ask, though it may be a bit personal, is what your magical aspects are. I've read a few reports, but most are sketchy at best, and you'll be happy to learn that those were anti-meta reports that were so scattered..."

Henry was suddenly not grinning much at all. "Once we get into the mountains I suspect we'll be dealing with a much more metaphysical aspect of opponants. Creatures that are bright enough to use the magic fields that are abundant there...and our final destination? I'll tell you about that once we safely reach the mountains."

((This is after Meryl's time with Adele...couldn't stand being in SA sweatdrop ))

Meryl looked over the city of Latent and smiled.

It was nowhere near her town - way too many polititcians and people to deal with in that regard - but she felt like this was a good place to set up shop.

Durem was her father's beat. Ever since he'd left on that quest with Amber, she'd picked up the slack a little within the dark, gothic city of steel and glass - but with most of the gangsters, rapists and murderers six-feet-under thanks to his 'purge', the criminal underworld still had no clue what to do to fill in the gaps.

So Durem was safe...for now.

But Latent was different. There was still a lot of work to be done at the shore-side metropolis - the right kinda people to push, the right kinda contacts to make, the right kinda message to let out.

The Sheilds were your typical police force. No real threat - simply people trying to do their jobs.

The Spears were different, a special force designed to wipe out resistance. But if her father could take one down, Meryl didn't think she'd have a problem if they had to butt heads.

She smiled. There was no mission tonight. Someone else was covering the nancy in the skyscraper. Tonight she was on patrol.

Flinging herself from the ledge she'd been perched on, she let herself fall, gravity yanking her form the sky and sending her hurtling towards the ground, her cloak flapping wildly in the wind as she flew head-first towards the bitchumen, cars and pedestrians becoming visible, nuances of their personailities becoming clear to Meryl as the gap drew closer, closer, tighter, no room left -

Before she threw her hand out, the WireDagger attached to her wrist shooting out to stab into the stone of a building's pillar, her trajectory suddenly changing as she was pulled from her downward flight to swing to the skies, the Wire snapping as she reached the zenith of her swing and flipped forward - to fire another one, her path going down the road and around another building, flipping off a light-pole, swinging around a flag-post, before flipping up into the darkness of the night.

"I'll bet..." John murmured, stepping back to let the smaller man lead once more.

He was fast...it was possible he wasn't human. John never doubted his own strength - he was the strongest in all of Gaia. Period. But when it came to magic...thats when he faltered.

Maxi... The darkness had always beaten John. Maximos had always been just too fast...just too skillful...just too much.

But now Maximos was dead. And John never feared him in the first place.

Compared to his departed friend...any foe John came across now would seem like a trival pursuit.

It unsettled John that Mere understoof his Tribal tongue - which meant he was reading his mind. So much for telepathic protestion...

_______Vincent wandered the sreets of Latent Town, he might have been surprised he was able to walk freely without being noticed after his massacre; however, it was a large town and there may not have been too many people who saw him and lived to give a description to the authorites. Whatever the reason, Vincent minded the oblivion of the townspeople not one bit.
_______He looked up to the sun in the sky which was otherwise an empty abyss through his eyes. The end of his sword, extending a couple-few feet over his right shoulder, caught his eye and he raised his right hand to caress the cold steel. As he ran a finger along the flat of the blade, he longed for a reason to use it again. His left hand wandered to the hilt of the manificent blade which lie at his hip, its long fingers wrapping around it and gripping tightly. At that moment, he smiled a fanged grimace and chuckled to himself. Who says I need a reason? he thought to himself...

You know... It's really hard to describe what two people are doing when they aren't doing anything worth noticing.

Terran Maxwell and Series 6 Assult Reploid Unit 37(6AR37 or Garet) sit about once more. Terran is playing a harmonica, dressed in his typical black on black with black and black. His skill for said instrument was... absolutely horrible. But he was better than most people trying the first time.

Garet stands against a shop's outer wall, his hands in his pockets, simply standing still. The silver optic plates shine in the light of the evening, and the Sound Sensor Strands (s3) were pricked, listening into minor conversations.

Both, however, noticed a particular man walking up the street.

_______Vincent stood with that sick grimace on his face as people walked by. Either merchants selling or people looking to buy, he supposed, Everyone must be too busy to pay attention to a random stranger.
_______He took one final breath before he pulled on the hilt, tearing it away from the metal claws which attached it to the back of his coat to serve as a sheath. He pulled the sword upward and away from his body and released it for a piece of a second, quickly shifting his body before the blade began to fall. He turned around and grabbed the blade with both hands, striking the nearest target. His mind worked quickly to turn the brief moment into a endless reverie of delight. He felt the blade slide through the skin and muscle above the man's shoulder. Then, the crack of his collarbone and a few ribs before it sliced just underneath the man's left arm, cutting him cleanly in two.
_______Without skipping a beat, Vincent used the same motion, turning the blade around and stabbing behind him, turning his head just a bit to see his victim's last moment of life. Through the man's ribcage, Vincent could feel his sword plunge, feeling each minute vibration that traveled down through the hilt. It grazed a rib, he could feel as if it were an extension of his own body, before it pierced the heart and grazed a shoulder blade on its way out the back.
_______Not a moment was wasted before Vincent dove forward and buried his fangs into a woman's neck. Using his right hand to remove the sword from the previous victim?all but forgotten by the time he go to the next?his left hand grabbed her shoulder, two fingers stabbing into the skin and muscle. He tasted the blood in his mouth for but a moment before he turned his head and spat. He mumbled something derogatory in his native tongue about the disgusting taste of human blood. Then, he pulled his hand away from the woman's shoulder and thrust his razor sharp fingertips through her back, next to her spine. Several of her ribs snapped with ease before Vincent felt his hand tear through her heart. Finally, he pulled his hand from what was now a corpse and jerked his hand sharply, using his abilties of inertia manipulation to fling each last drop of blood from the surface of the rough, ash colored skin of his left hand. He wiped his face on the sleeve of his coat before he spat again and cursed once more the nasty taste of human blood.

A cloaked man watched happily near by for he found such destruction beauttiful.