[CupcakeDolly]

Rue stared beyond the people around her as she walked, still fuming inwardly at the valuable time that had been wasted and the disappointment she had experienced - not that she had expected to find anything worthwhile from such a source. Mostly she was angry at herself for not having foreseen his treachery.

She pulled up the hood of what had once been a white cloak. It was now tattered beyond all recognition of its original shape, and stained with the blood of the river she had soaked it in. She didn't mind the dirty red-brown color or the smell too much. It quite reminded her of home.

One good thing had come of picking up the dirty stranger, at least. He had been quick to fulfill her first request. Within hours of meeting him, he had managed to spread a rumor: Anybody looking for work as a bodyguard for a wealthy psychic should seek out a girl wearing a bloodstained hood. Although Rue was more than capable of taking care of herself in an intimate situation - as she had just proven - she didn't think she was skilled enough with a sword to fight against bullets or magic. It was becoming more clear to her that the most important element in her mission was her own survival. Of course, how could she do anything if she were dead?

[Salone]

The crowd of people milling around only served to slow Lev down. He had heard talk of work amongst the mouths around him. Talk of hard labor, talk of other things. Most importantly to him, someone had mentioned that a client was looking for protection. Being paid for what he had been forced in to doing for free was a bit of a novelty, so this opportunity sounded like his best option. After all, it was hard to do manual labor with only one free hand.

Lev tried to move faster through the crowd of people. His chances of finding this particular client seemed rather slim. It was a big town and he was looking for one out of many. The description he had heard wasn't the most telling either. 'Girl in a cloak' is all he had heard. And after looking around, there were many cloaks trying to hide people from the sun. Not to mention trying to tell who was under these cloaks made his task even more difficult. He was better at shooting people, not finding them. Not-

A flash of blood. Cloth. Pristine now stained. Like an expired bandage on a festering wound. Pain, torture. Metal tearing below his flesh, knife separating skin from muscle.

The flashback came as soon as it had went. Lev was left rooted where he stood, gasping for the humid air. A tattered cloak bloody cloak bobbed amongst the drab hues that adorned passerby, signifying the trigger of his episode. As he tried to calm down, a brief chill overtook him. The coolness was welcomed, even if the overall feeling was not.

Steeling himself, Lev began his short pilgrimage towards the cloak. Perhaps he could find one in a city of many after all.

[Funkduder]

Michael was thinking about what he wrote in his journal the night before as he walked into the city:

Year 4, Day 127:
It was never hard to get used to the changing weather in this world I call home. It's at least better than the weather in Perdition or Sheol. At least here the weather is slightly more gentle.

But that's beside the point. In one day I will reach the City of Corinth, probably by afternoon. I need funds. My current research has come to a halt, and I can't barter for more goods or I'll just hurt myself more. Perhaps Corinth would have some work, or if not, I can hopefully enlist the help of the Saints and get some form of information on the difference in Psychic "mind-reading" and Theurgist "mind-reading".

Entering the bar, Michael walked to the barman. Keeping his voice low and inconspicuous, he asked him, "You've seen any good work lately?"

"Actually, yeah. You don't look like the type, but there's word on the street for the need of a body-guard. Look for the lady in the blood-red hood."

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate it. Call me Haydn. I'll be staying in town for a while," said Michael as he disappeared into the crowd again to look for the cloak that's bloody red..

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Sliding away from his perch, Shealtiel joins the crowd, pulling up his hood to blend in with the refugees. Secluded in the mass, he checks his MID again, trusting that the psychic radar signal will get lost in the myriad of other such psionic chatter that must be filling the city. Noting the presence he detected earlier, he heads toward it, though it is some ways away, yet.

He has put the others he noted out of his mind, for the moment. The theurgist is of middling ability alone, only notable for the rarity of her kind in the city currently. And he lost sight of the blind man from earlier.

[CupcakeDolly]

Despite the sun beating down on them, Rue felt a strong desire to shiver. The images she had glimpsed were stronger and more forceful than any she had yet experienced in the city - almost reckless in nature. The source had been from a man, that much she knew from the familiar patterns. Whether it was a psychic or not she couldn't quite tell, although she'd assume a psychic would be able to control such thoughts.

It was a few moments later that she realized she was being followed, likely by somebody who had heard her carefully placed rumor. The intentions permeated from behind her, and she was careful to continue on as she had been, with an air of royalty, as though nothing had happened. She weighed her options: The images concerned her. Though she had been raised through far worse, she wasn't sure about letting someone who was prone to such thoughts get too close. On the other hand, she had made sure not to specify that she herself was the client. That little detail had been set up for just such a situation.

Making up her mind, Rue turned with an abruptness that she hadn't yet shown into a break between two buildings, away from the main road. She paused for a moment before disappearing into it, ensuring that her follower would see where she had gone.

[Salone]

Lev's eyebrows jumped as he saw his mark disappear. He tripped to the side suddenly, knocking a few people over as he stumbled out of the main crowd of people. He paid no attention to the curses and ill comments his actions brought him, instead making his way up the side past various shops and buildings.

He paused before he turned in to the alleyway. His mind was unsure, but his stomach was empty. And in times of desperation, his baser instincts made sure that matter over mind had won. Breathing in a sharp intake of the humid air, Lev rounded the corner. He instantly stopped, sizing up the woman standing before him. It took him a few seconds to actually speak, his words spilling out in an odd manner, as if the language he spoke was foreign.

"I hear of work. Am I correct? That you would be looking to employ, I mean. For work. The description I have, not very good."

[Funkduder]

Leaving the bar, he looked around for the red-hooded woman, as the bartender said, but on the main road, there was little red among the common travelers' cloak, despite the times, if any at all. After traveling down the main road for a bit, Michael turned off of the main road into a alley way, in order to contact the satellite, physically, and possibly use pinpoint GPS to quickly find the girl. What he ran into though was of both fortune and misfortune. A Strong, Able-bodied man stood in front of him, and in front of a girl in a blood red hood.

"Well I found the right person, but the question is, 'Does that person need me?'."

[CupcakeDolly]

Rue sized up the man standing before her, skimming the loudest thoughts at the forefront of his mind and finding no immediate threat. She quirked an eyebrow at his strangely arranged speech, wondering if he was of some strange nationality, or just stupid.

"Well, that depends, doesn't it?" She said in a voice that was mostly Arabic blanketed with various acquired European accents. She raised a hand imploringly and only made half the effort she usually did to sound civil, still suspicious. "What would you have to offer if I did?"

As the last words left her mouth, she stopped, turning her gaze to a second man intruding on their impromptu meeting. She stiffened, ready to run if need be. One hand flitted to the sword at her side. His finding them seemed almost too convenient, and she didn't trust what intentions she gleaned from him. "What need would I have for a scholar?" she said, rather harshly. "And why would an Artificer suddenly feel the need to change professions?" Though she didn't sense any ulterior motives, the man may have also found a way to hide them, and it didn't hurt to show caution.

[Funkduder]

"Even scholars need some sort of funding for their work, you know," Michael said as he revealed his own weapon, the laser, and putting it back in his pocket. "You seem to be a psychic, as well," Michael said as he felt his mind being pressed on."You can pay me with your knowledge of the mind, and by that I mean the human mind and psychic 'mind-reading'." Michael didn't expect to get the woman's job, from the hostile looks she gave off, but if he didn't sound confident, his chances would only dwindle closer to zero, or so he thought.

[Salone]

Lev tensed suddenly, his coat a flurried movement as his pocket produced a revolver-filled hand. He breathed rapidly, years of experience telling him to pull the trigger twice. The first round in the cylinder was always left empty just in case of accidents. His thumb quickly found the selector on his Le Mat revolver, switching to the 410 Gauge underslung barrel. Just in case he only had the one shot. After a few moments, he tried some form of diplomacy in his staggering language.

"You are look for job too? I find first. But best applicant should get the job presented. Although, we make assumption that this is employer."

He turned his head back towards the girl, eyes and revolver still on the unknown man.

"If you are looking to employ, I am Lev Gurevich, Lev of Tsavo. I've fought many times. I guarantee fastest gun. Revolver is like extension of my body. Well, it is extension of my body, but not my point. I have to be good to survive this long. I admit, I need...tangible pay. Payment methods for him might be more attractive. Each their own to, as they say."

Lev trailed off, his finger slowly coming off of the trigger.

[Serra Britt]

Feenai blinked, realizing she had been lost in her own thoughts again, when the tall person asked a question. "M..me?" she stammered, not used to being paid attention to. Blushing slightly, she continued, "I'm afraid that I'm a traveller, and have never been in this town before. I was looking for a tavern myself though, would you like to go together?"

Feenai took a brief moment to read Jeanne's surface thoughts and didn't sense any hostility. She still wasn't used to having so many people around, and put her mental shields back in place as soon as she decided that Jeanne was not an immediate threat.

Trying to remember anything about taverns from the Amorpha Network's information on Holy Corinth, she cringed at realizing she hadn't done enough research. She could check the Network but she felt a little vulnerable doing it out in the open, but she perked up realizing she wasn't quite alone.

She lowered her voice and whispered, "Actually, I'm a psychic. If you'll watch over me for a minute or so, I could check the Amorpha Network for any tavern locations..."

[Espy]

Dante shoved one last time, did a neat somersault, and nearly rolled off the edge of the roof. Uwaaahh! ....That...was close, he thought as he swung his feet back on to the slanted tiles. He'd chained the motorcycle to a post, for fear of having it stolen, and finally found a ladder. Now much more lucid, he could "see" more clearly the edges of objects, and even more so the aura of stronger beings.

Time to scout out this city, he thought to himself rather wryly. Four years ago...his brother would have been here, with him. Maybe they'd have enjoyed the sunset, or just escaping from the hustle and bustle of a busy city...He could have seen everything, not just a blur of light colors in a sea of eternal darkness...

He shook his head. Now was not the time to be nostalgic. With that, he took the roofs of the city at a light run.

[Sage]

Jeanne groaned inwardly as Feenai began to speak and she learned that she was just another traveler. But she perked up again when the offer to find one together was found. Though not a fantastic judge of character, she seemed pleasant enough, and two women together in a tavern was always safer.

"Thank you." Jeanne smiled, and looked around in case anyone particularly dangerous had approached since the last survey. But it appeared as though they were, as usual, surrounded by normal humans. She did see one particular area of interest, a more sparsely populated area close by. "Perhaps it would be safer to move?" she asked, gesturing towards it.

[Funkduder]

Michael looked at the gun with interest. If it weren't pointed at his head. ".32 Cal Le Mat Revolver with a 410 gauge option. Not a poor choice of weapon for a man your size, and it looks well cared for... However," Micheal continued, raising the interdiction badge on his wrist and formulating his shield, "your first shot would've been null against any psychic with one of these... and I happen to be a psychic, myself, as are most Artificers."

[CupcakeDolly]

Rue looked between both men as they spoke, weighing their words against their thoughts and deeming them to be the truth, as far as she could tell. Still, she erred on the side of caution and kept her hand on the hilt of her sword.

She interrupted before their macho prostrations could continue. "I am looking for somebody who can hold their own in a fight - even against something that is not human. Payment would not be a problem."

She rolled her eyes slightly at the Artificer's offer. Though she had much to share on the topic he was interested in, she was loathe to give away any secrets so easily, and even more so to take the time to teach anybody. She had taken with her every little trinket that had been gifted to her, assuming that they might be worth something through her travels, only to find that they were more valuable than what most humans had to offer as currency.

[Funkduder]

Michael turned his gaze from the gun to the girl as he heard her words...and he could not respond. "Perhaps I imposed myself too much. Damn my foolish pride," he thought to himself, awaiting the jurisdiction of his possible employer. The only question that remained to him was this: "Will one of us get the job or both of us, and if only one, then who?"