Approaching Tempest

[Rugs]

Tap tap tap tap tap...

Kvothe eyed a chrono hanging on the wall opposite him. Fifteen minutes past noon. Five until the time that'd been set for the others to arrive. His eyes were mostly hazel, though streaks and specks of light orange spoke of irritation bubbling within him. He had been irritable lately.

Today, the Rilan was particularly antsy.

Tap tap tap tap...

Each gentle tap of his finger on the armored side of his calf sounded with a gentle, ringing thud. The briefing room was not large, but it was rounded with wide, arcing curves. Sound carried surprisingly well within it.

Kvothe frowned down at the spot where his finger was tapping. A fingerprint was showing on his armor's clean white surface. He knit his brows slightly and rubbed it away with the edge of his golden cloak.

He'd opted for his lighter armor today. Kvothe thought it was splendid--white with gold trim and a gold cloak to match, with the Mythics' Star emblazoned on the back. His red, infamously-spiky armor was being repaired and repainted. It'd taken a few more dents in the mission to save Iri, and it was as good a time as any to have it sent to the Tower forge for some maintenance. If everything went according to plan, his current attire would be more than suitable for the job.

But when does anything ever go to plan for me?

Fas mewled, drawing Kvothe's attention to him. The flickercat sat on his haunches. The door was on one side of him. Pietas leaned against the wall where Kvothe had left it on the other. His tails flittered around irritably, as Fas echoed his master's irritation.

"Sorry," Kvothe muttered to his companion.

It wasn't the job that had him so irritated, though it was cause enough for concern. An accident had happened at an Etherium refinery on the Idzumo's northeastern shore. Something caused an explosion, and it was his job to lead a team in both to investigate and help the people of a nearby town, in the foothills of the Lower Tamdrins.

Simple.

Except those ploughing' Unum bastards probably have a hand in it. The report he'd been given had advised to stay alert for potential Unum presence. As if he, Kvothe Algaterra, First Sword and blood brother of one of the most notoriously-dangerous Unum fighters on the planet, couldn't recognize when the ploughing Unum weren't playing another one of their games.

His clipboard clattered loudly as he tossed it onto the metal table in the center of the room. The fur on the back of Fas' neck began to bristle.

Kvothe stopped himself, grabbing the table's edge and forcing himself to take deep breaths. Calm down. Got to stay calm...

It was hard lately. He'd seen the reports, filled with rumors of some Unum supercrop that could challenge Etherium, and maybe even best it. He'd heard the rumblings that Unum agents were starting gain traction with some of the Governors of the east and starting to put strain on the Aiari governement in an attempt to force the Archon to action.

Worst of all, the memories of the dead Cathar girl still haunted him. She still forced her unwanted visions on him, and didn't seem to give a damn when she did them. They were beginning to seep into his dreams.

All of that, as if the recent reminder of his brother's sustained superiority hadn't been enough weight on his shoulders. At times, Kvothe wondered how far he could go before he broke. Steel could only bend so far...

He shook his head suddenly, looking back to the chrono. Eighteen minutes past noon. Nineteen. The others should be arriving soon.

Kvothe sat back down in his chair and sat, waiting, tapping. This time he tapped the table, at least...

[Dire Wolf]

Most amusing. The unum had actually managed to come up with not only a substitute for etherium but a replacement. A replacement that could quite possibly surpass the original product a few times over. Rhissai sat at her desk with her boots propped up on the table and her hands folded behind her head. Green eyes danced about the nothingness of her room as she mulled over some of the possibilities on a grand scale. The mythics losing their only 'sure-fire' source of revenue, their supporters, and quite possibly even more manpower to the upstart rebels.

That combined with their "you're with us or against us" mentality and you have the perfect shatstorm brewing up in the distance.

Rhiss had opted to simply not wear armor at all that day despite the fact that there was a very good chance that she would be sent out on a mission, patrol, or whatever else the children thought it amusing to have her do. Being relatively new to an organization sucked regardless of your prior experience or prowess of the "mythos" or whatever they called it. It had been the Force most of her life, and the Force it would stay until the day she died.

A soft, silent beep pulled her from her slightly annoyed musings. One casual glance down to the chrono reported the time: nineteen minutes past twelve. Rhiss stood, stretching out for a minute, and walked towards the room that Kvothe supposedly was. There was some kind of meeting going on then, and she certainly didn't want to miss it. Once she reached the room, the black haired woman gave a glance to Fas before speaking to Kvothe, "quite the gathering of people you have here, Kvothe."

Rhiss smirked a bit before taking her seat. She had recently become quite the avid practioner of snarking.

[Meira]

"Where did I put my gloves?"

"They fell between your bed and the night stand."

"Thanks."

"You're nervous."

"No I'm not."

"Would I be here if you weren't?"

Vesta looked up from where she was crouched beside the bed, reaching her hand into the space between it and the nightstand to grab her gloves. Jasper was seated in the chair in the opposite corner of the small room. His face had that calm, slightly amused look that he wore so easily. Wore. Because Jasper was dead... had been for years.

Her hand closed around the gloves and she pulled them out, standing up and tugging them onto her hands. This armor was brand new, had only been sent from the forges just a day ago. It wasn't much compared to some of the sets she'd seen, but Vesta couldn't support the weight of such suits. Her armor had to be as light and flexible as possible. It consisted mostly of alloy weaves with plates over only the most vital parts of her body. The plates were a flat black, while the weave was a dark purple. It wasn't anything special to look at, but Vesta felt it struck a perfect balance between protection and freedom of movement.

"You're here because of that." she said to the hallucination, pointing at the etherium burning on the plate on the nightstand.

"No," he replied, sounding every bit as real as she knew he wasn't. "I'm here because you are not centered. The etherium just externalizes this for you. Your brain projected me."

Vesta huffed a frustrated sigh. "I'm not nervous." Jasper didn't look convinced. "Alright... maybe a little. It's my first real assignment."

"And you think you're going to screw it up."

"Don't spare my feelings Jasper, tell me how you really feel." Vesta gave the apparition a sour look.

"I can only tell you how you feel"

"Yeah, yeah... leave me alone, I'm late. Tax." With that last word, Vesta held out her hand as her staff jumped from it's place on the wall into her grip.

Krystos had been the one that suggested she give her weapons names. It was something of a tradition amongst the Mythics. Vesta hadn't thought anything of it, but decided it wouldn't hurt. In the end, the name she picked was something of a joke. Math had lamented the plainness of the design and it's lack of pyrotechnics. He didn't quite understand the point of a staff that "just goes whack". Her dagger's name, acus, had been inspired by a comment Benjen had made after he'd given it to her. He'd told her that, with practice, she could wield the weapon with the precision of a needle. He'd been right.

Vesta made her way quickly through the tower to the room where she was to meet with the other going out on the assignment. She hadn't been told much of anything, other than to simply report at the appointed time. Krystos had his own theories. He'd heard rumors about Unum activity and speculated her assignment might be in regard to a particular one he'd heard about some kind of crop. He'd said it was a fascinating idea, should it be true, and that an opportunity to study such a crop would be a privilege. If nothing else, he'd managed to pique her curiosity on the matter.

She stepped through the door to see Kvothe and a woman she did not recognize. Vesta was glad to see Kvothe here. She hadn't seen the man that had brought her into the Mythics in some time and it calmed her nerves slightly to know he'd be on the assignment as well. She gave the man a nod as she sat down. Another nod was given to the woman, though Vesta chose to minimize eye contact with her. She didn't seem to be in a particularly friendly mood.

[Kella]

It was a wonderful day, but that wasn't particularly surprising, because all of Iri's days were wonderful. Though lately, that designation had been restricted to the parts of her day that she could actually remember. Ever since returning from the mountain, she'd been having what she called 'jumps'. Suddenly she'd be in a different place at a different time, and have no memory at all of the in-between. And yet, Iri could not find it within herself to be bothered.

Somewhat like she couldn't be bothered to wear armor. Nothing could hurt her, for the simple reason that she could not feel pain. And, being a Firrerreo, that usually wasn't too much of a problem, since she recovered incredibly quickly from just about any injury, even self-inflicted ones. Which is why she didn't understand why it was such a big deal to the others when she decided to paint, but oh, there were lots of things she didn't understand, and that was fine.

They'd only attempted to convince her to wear something other than her habitual cloak and dress once or twice. It was quickly realized to be a waste of time, seeing as the first adventure she'd gone on had been on a last-minute whim -- though someone had called that 'sneaking out' -- and nobody had made her wear armor then, and she'd been just fine.

So, Iri skipped down the hall towards the meeting room, delightfully unencumbered. The bits and baubles that dangled from the end of her staff made a wonderful noise, and Iri quite liked the way the light caught the iridescent blue shimmer of a newly-added beetle carapace.

A shape in the shadow caught Iri's eye, one that would have been invisible to any individual not so thoroughly inundated with Etherium as Iri. The sparkly blue drug had brought especial joy to Irrisorie since the mountain, but she always got distracted when she tried to think about why. Though, her thoughts did drift to the point of the meeting today, as she drifted a bit closer to the shadow. Apparently, an Etherium factory had exploded. Iri's only qualm was that she hadn't been there to see it.

But then there was some discussion of the Unum and some surpassor of Etherium, which Iri found simply fascinating; firstly because of the social and economic consequences of introducing a competitor to the Mythic's Etherium monopoly, and secondly because Etherium was fun, so this other thing might be even more fun.

Iri had finally grown close enough to make out the form of the shadow and, grinning with delight, she cupped it in her hands. Unlike the flickercat that had suddenly appeared to sniff the thing, it was actually quite real. Two large, shiny eyes looked up at Iri, each flanked by three more, as the tarantula resettled in her palms. It had a plump body and eight -- no, seven -- legs, and was covered by fuzzy hair which was black at the base and glittered silver at the tip, a feature that enthralled Iri.

She rose, still gently holding the spider, and continued down the hall as the flickercat disappeared. When she finally reached the meeting room, Fabio, a six-limbed monkey, appeared and graciously opened the door for her so that she did not have to disturb Adagio, which is what she had named the spider, because of his slow, languid way of moving about.

Kvothe was in the room, as was Fas, and Iri offered them both a bright smile. There were two other women, who she recognized but had never been properly introduced to.

"Looks like the boys are outnumbered," Iri quipped proudly. But then, a thoughtful look came over her face, and she raised the tarantula to eye level. "Unless you're actually a boy, Adagio."

[Apillis]

To say she still does not know what she wants to do with herself or her life would be an understatement. Most times she does her best to put out of mind, and go through her daily motions. Her views were not unlike Rhissai's in regards to the "Mythos", which is understandable, like her--all Magdalena's life she has known it as the Force, and forever will it be the Force to her.

That said, outside concepts that are alient to her, she has a natural instinct for. The Blood Mythics among the Stellar Mythics called to her, perhaps while in a her despairing disposition its darker tendencies called to her. But the ideals of it fascinated her, and so she not only indulged the use of etherium, but embraced the Blood Mythics' concepts, philosophies, and manipulation of the Force. The utilize of the Force their ritual and circumstance, she had been taking to quite well in her time among the Mythics.

Truth be told, when she returned to the Stellar Mythics after a brief sabbatical for a bit traveling, she was surprised that Rhissai chose to be among their number. The Stellar Mythics she never believed would be something that a Jedi Master of her standing would want to join their culture. Then again, Rhissai was not exactly as she remembered her during their days at the Jedi Temple, and that was something she could say about herself. The betrayal of her former master--it is still something she is trying to cope with. For a personality as reserved and fragile as her own, someone they saw and loved as a mother revealed to be a corrupted monster and attempt to kill was exceedingly traumatic to put it mildly.

These days she tries to remain close with Rhissai when the situation permitts it. With this mission being spearheaded by Kvothe, little Magdalena elicited to go without a moments hesitation when she learned Rhissai was going as well. For much of the traveling she tagged along with Rhissai never very far from her. Though done unconsciously for the most part, she seldom realized she was often placing herself at Rhissai's side.

While Rhissai took a seat, Magdalena stood behind her a few feet away, and simply remained quiet unless otherwise called upon to speak.

[Rugs]

The chrono's hand moved one tick further. It's time.

As if on cue, the door opened. Fas looked up at Rhissai as she entered, though Kvothe continued staring blankly at the chrono on the wall. The former Jedi master was very new to the Order, though Kvothe respected her greatly. She was a sister in arms, and one of very few telepaths that the Sword didn't feel reflexively uncomfortable around.

"Quite the gathering of people you have here, Kvothe, she quipped.

Kvothe sighed. His mind wasn't right for dry humor and sarcasm, not now. The Mythos, the Winds, were too disturbed, too turbulent for him to be amused; too much weight pressed on him, like the stocks' weight behind his neck before the hangman's noose came. Some storm was brewing on the future's horizon, but what?

What are they up to?

Yet he managed a quiet smile and acknowledged Rhissai's presence with a subtle nod. "Grand, isn't it?"

He put his folded leg back down on the ground and stood with his palms flat on the table. If Rhissai was here, then surely the others would be arriving soon. Best they saw him standing when they arrived. I'm supposed to lead. A leader has to stand tall.

That was when Vesta came along. Kvothe regarded her quietly, affording the same little nod that he'd given to Rhissai in greeting. "Vesta." He hadn't seen her in weeks, but he heard her training was going as well as could be hoped. Supposedly she'd found a tutor.

Iri arrived a moment later, preempted by the edge of the ephemeral mist that always surrounded her. There was a time when the girl had made Kvothe extraordinarily uncomfortable, but those days were long past. Now he only felt a stab of guilt as he recalled that fateful expedition to the frozen ruins--as he remembered the price she'd had to pay for his weakness.

"Always running," his brother's voice whispered in his mind, "and ever a step behind."

"No," Kvothe grumbled under his breath, "go away." His eyes squeezed shut and he shook his head, trying to banish the voice. Now wasn't the time for that.

He didn't notice his hands had closed to fists, or that strands of red invaded the brilliant gold in his eyes.

Kvothe took a breath, steadying his heart and mind as the last member arrived. It was Magdelena. He didn't really know her or much about her--only that she stuck close to Rhissai. As long as she loyal, everything would be fine.

Kvothe glanced back at the chrono, now that everyone was assembled. Twenty-two minutes past noon. Not bad. The briefing wouldn't take long. With luck the mission wouldn't either.

"We'll try to keep this short." Kvothe spoke quietly, but the queer curvature and acoustics of the room lent a strange reverberance to his voice. "You've all been told about the accident at the plant, I'm sure. We're being sent to look into what happened and, if needed, help with the evacuation of the town."

Kvothe tapped his fingers impatiently on the table's smooth surface as he looked at his team. His squad. Three girls and a woman. Can't even give me a full team of Swords. No, that wasn't fair to them. He couldn't think that way; this wasn't supposed to be a combat mission.

"We're not certain at this point, but there is a chance that the Unum have their ploughin' fingers in this. We'll find out when we arrive." And Mythos have mercy on them if they are, because I will not.

"One last thing," he continued, eyeing the flimsie on his clipboard. "There is some... speculation that this happening may be related to the recent rumors of that new Unum crop. If--if--we find a lead--any lead--we're to look into it and see what we can find out. If we come across a crop, we're to retrieve some samples to bring back to the Tower and destroy the rest."

Kvothe looked at each of them in turn, the gold in his eyes darkening. "Questons?"

[Twysper]

Amidst the tangled bundles of multicolored cables and dim red light of the Falcon class's cramped right engine room, Mathathyper's bright eyes searched for the correct access panel to get into the real guts of the ship. Finding it, he latched his fingers around the edge and gave a hard pull, falling over onto his backside and sending the panel clanging onto the floor. The Squib chittered to himself self-satisfiedly before hauling himself through the opening and disappearing inside the engine completely with a cacophany of bangs and thunks.

Shyence, from her aloof perch on the door handle, tilted her head curiously as she watched her caretaker wriggle into the depths of the ship...

~~~~~~~~~~

"Why do I always have to get him?!" The unfortunate Mythic understudy named Arudin complained as he ran down the adorned hallways of the Tower to the Stellar Mythic hangar. "Eighth! Eighth time-- this week! And then they blame me!"

The understudy continued to mutter as he entered the hangar and approached the Falcon class transport ship sitting quietly on the scuffed floor. Arudin saw a toolbox laying nearby, and without missing a step, used the Mythos to pull a large wrench into his grasp. Stepping up to the ship, the human started to bang on the side of it with the wrench.

"Maaaaaaaath-ath-ath-ath-ath-ath-ath--!"

Twin red beams of light suddenly sliced through the ships durasteel skin, carving out a small circle which clanged to the ground heavily. Arudin jumped as the absence was immediately filled with Math's head poking out, outrage apparent on his face.

"YOU ARE GOING TO SCRATCH MY KRIFFING SHIP, YOU HEADED-NERF BOY." The Squib's disembodied head raged.

"YOU ARE NEEDED FOR A BRIEFING YOU LITTLE FURRY MIDGET." Arudin yelled back, gesturing towards the hallway.

"Oh yes!" Math cheshired wide, rage discarded as he remembered he was supposed to fly Kvothe today. The Squib wriggled the rest of the way through the hole he had created and flipped over to land on his feet. He took off at a skittering run towards the hallway, calling over his shoulder to Arudin. "Patch the ship up!"

The understudy pilot assigned as Math's mechanic and occasional student muttered under his breath and grabbed a fusion torch, still setting to work dutifully.

~~~~~~~~~~

Math shrugged his black cloak around himself as he ran up the Tower to the briefing room, only stopping to get directions six times, which was a new record, because the Squib did not approve of the lay-out of the Tower. Finally, Math found the correct area and, smelling of oil with a tinge of singed fur, burst through the door at twenty-two minutes past noon.

Mathathyper immediately jumped to occupy the table in the center of the room, spinning around and scanning the room for familiar faces. He picked out the blurred faces of Kvothe, Iri, and Vesta, and two others that were new to him. New people were fun, and Vesta and Iri were fun, and Kvothe was amusing. This would be a good trip.

"Hallo! Math will be supreme captaining you all today!" The Squib waved energetically at everyone before sitting on the table with his cheshire grin and making a shooing motion at Kvothe. "Continue Delinquent."

[Dire Wolf]

A dusky woman appeared not long after Rhissai had snarked at Kvothe. The scars that rested just below the woman's eyes were a curious sort. They didn't look to her as if they were made by the claws of an animal or the knife of an adversary. Those brilliant green eyes rested on them for a slight movement before glancing up to meet the woman's crystal blue eyes. After a few moments her gaze returned to a patch of empty space of no particular notability.

Her thoughts drifted back to what Lamilia had said to her during their brief battle in front of the Unum friendly clinic. The woman told her how everything about Aiaru felt wrong. How the mythics were little more than drug peddling despots and the unum were little more than people who fell to darkness out of desperation from their voices being quashed. Rhissai hadn't given it much thought at the time, but maybe her peer's view had some merit. The woman's gaze shifted to Kvothe as he waited for the rest. Was he a tyrant? Had she joined a group of nothing but glorified drug dealers interested in little more than controlling their little world with an iron fist?

Two other mythics had entered the room, their presence drawing her mind out of the little reverie it had trapped itself in. One was an oddly childish woman carrying a spider, and the other was none other than Magdalena Vaaz. The girl was one that inspired a small amount of pity in Rhissai, and as such she strove to 'grow' her up so she could survive on her own. "Hello, Magdalena," the woman said with a genuine smile on her lips. "You can have a seat, if you want. There should be more than enough."

Kvothe began to speak not long after that. The woman listened to her 'briefing' carefully. It was good to know that the men and women above her believed in her skills enough to send her on a simple investigation. No matter. "And just what are the rules on engaging any Unum? What about pris-" she was interrupted by a little dark-furred squib. He leaped up on the table and spun, looking at each face before addressing the room. This "Math" seemed like a happy creature with his cheshire grin and animated demeanor, but he would likely turn on her at any time. Or so her instincts warned her, anyways.

"As I was saying... are we to capture any Unum?" Rhissai didn't say it, but she had certain reservations about killing people. This hardly meant that she wouldn't kill if killing was called for, but the confrontation with Lamilia had turned out to be a sort of gut-check. She was headed down a dark path, and killing wouldn't bring any light to her walk.

[Kella]

"No... Go away..." Kvothe said quietly. Iri saw the tightening of his fist, the red -- such a pretty color -- in his eyes.

"Don't you be talking to things that don't exist," Iri whispered, with uncharacteristic seriousness. "That's my job."

She couldn't be sure if Kvothe had heard her, as he started right into the briefing. Iri listened with rapt attention. Etherium production was generally rather stable, but she knew that there were a few components in the refinement equipment that she supposed could explode if compelled. It was possible that the whole thing was an accident. However, sabotage was far more likely. Maybe the Unum had even been bold enough to just plant bombs. But that would be boring. It was much better when the Unum was clever, clever was entertaining.

Rhissai started to ask a question, but then...

"Math!" Iri exclaimed with delight, when the little Squib appeared.

"Math, this is Ad--"

"As I was saying..."

"Oops, sorry, go ahead," Iri said apologetically, deferring to Rhissai.

Then she leaned conspiratorially towards Math, displaying the spider, and whispered "Adagio."

But Math's appearance wasn't the only exciting thing, and Irrisorie couldn't help but cut in again as soon as Rhissai was done speaking.

"We're going to be like detectives, aren't we!"

[Apillis]

((Super short post))

The girlish Blood Mythic, Magdalena merely continued to stand quietly, observing all the goings on. She smiled warmly at Lyssa when she spoke to her, offering her a chair. But with her little feminine voice, she replied with her warm smile at her, "No thank you. I'm ok.", with a humble bow of her head, she to Lyssa, she remained silent but near the former Jedi master.

Soften-spoken, shy, even a bit submissive, perhaps the methods of the Blood Mythics or even the very dark side itself she had been studying more thoroughly since her departure with the Jedi Order, had it to truly make its impact on her being. Or perhaps it had, and simply has not manifested and/or shown itself yet.

The addition of this Math individual caused her a bit of a head cant in response. But when the discussion returned to its focus and purpose, she was back to giving her undivided attention.

[Twysper]

Math's bright blue ears spiked upwards with interest as Adagio was proffered towards him for his examination. He licked his short muzzle with an odd light in his eyes as he watched the seven-limbed tarantula slowly move around in Iri's hands.

"You brought snacks to the boring meeting! Spiders make a num-num good snack yes they do!" The Squib chittered, leaning over and reaching for Adagio with his salient teeth displayed. "Math's snack?"

It was only after Math had finished trying to coax Iri into giving him her spider that he finally noticed the odd feeling in the room, emanating from the people he didn't know. Bright yellow-green eyes fastened on Rhissai and Magdalena curiously as the Squib tried to recall where he'd felt a similar glow in the force before. Experimentally, Mathathyper pushed out his own darker presence in the force, probing at Rhiss, and possibly everyone else. It was hard to tell since Math was not exactly the most subtle or finessed at using the Mythos.

And while it appeared that the Squib was not in fact, paying attention to any of the conversation, his ears did pique as something was said about prisoners.

"No-no, no prisoners taking back on board my ship, Unum make trouble and damage my poor baby ship! ...Maybe tie to roof...? Also let me tell you a story. Once I had a girlfriend and the Delinquent captured her and stabby-stabbed her, the end." Math sniffled pointedly, running a dark furred arm across his face and looking around the room for sympathy. He thought he caught a tear in Vesta's eye, and so the Squib scooted along the table until he was in front of her and then reached towards the woman while making his best sad face, the universal sign for pick-me-up .

[Rugs]

Kvothe's words lingered, were turned back by the gently-curving walls and left to hang with a quiet resonance. The chrono quietly ticked ten times, for ten seconds. For all of them, Kvothe steadily studied one of his companions.

Vesta. A newcomer to the Mythics. Learning their ways, but still not completely aware of the things she might eventually find herself tangled in. She couldn't see the storm brewing ahead, not like Kvothe could. Perhaps she could feel signs of it's coming, could see the effects of its headwinds blowing against the Tower's walls. Only time would show her the truth of what was to come. Kvothe hoped she was prepared for it.

Magdalena. She was an enigma to Kvothe. A friend of Rhissai's, so a friend of his, as far as he was concerned. But her talents, her experiences and opinios--those, he knew little of. She was like Vesta, in his mind. Young. New. Someone that had to be prepared before the storm came and swept them away...

Iri. Kvothe's jaw tightened subtly as he looked at her. A thread of blue, dark and full like the open sea, wrapped around the edge of his irises. She was an innocent. It was rare that Kvothe saw a heart so pure as hers, despite the hints of scars that lined her past. So innocent. So pure. And just another person he'd failed, when he should've been able to protect her.

And it seemed she'd come bearing a spider, of all things. Some time ago, the Sword may have been surprised. But he knew the girl, and took it all in stride.

Rhissai... Kvothe's gaze settled lastly on the former Jedi. She was the oldest of them, the most experienced in her ways, if not in the dealings of things on Aiaru. Kvothe's respect for her ran deep and held strong, forged by the fires they'd thrown themselves into together. Surely she was someone he could turn to? Surely she understood the stresses and the pressures that seemed to press at him from every side...

But she was a Jedi, a quiet part of him whispered. What if she doesn't understand what has to be done?

What was it he'd learned about Jedi as a boy? They were supposed to let go. Turn the other cheek.

Letting go got my father killed, Kvothe thought sourly.

Rhissai spoke, pulling Kvothe from his quiet contemplation. The woman's words made his brow furrow ever so slightly, and caused the gold of his eyes to grow deeper. He was tapping his finger again, he noticed. There was a little smudge on the table's otherwise flawless surface.

He stopped abruptly as the door flew open.

In came none other than Math, which his typical exuberance. Kvothe barely snatched his clipboard and flimsie away from the table before the Squib landed on it.

"Hallo! Math will be supreme captaining you all today!"

"You..." Kvothe flipped through the documentation he had. He certainly didn't remember being told that Math would be flying them today. "I..."

"Continue Delinquent."

Kvothe looked at the Squib for a moment, dumbfounded, but shook his head and sighed, adding Math's name to his roster. Some things weren't worth fighting.

And Math was a friend. If a very strange, sometimes annoying one. Even if Fas didn't like him.

"Welcome aboard Math," Kvothe said quietly, before turning his attention back to Rhissai with a little nod. He was very interested in what it was she was asking.

"As I was saying... are we to capture any Unum?"

Kvothe's lips pressed into a thin line. Orange spots flecked his golden irises for a heartbeat and faded away. "Any Unum we find are to be killed. Interrogations, if needed, can be done in the field, through whatever means are necessary." A grim, joyless smile touched Kvothe's lips. He shook his head softly, almost sadly. "We are at war, Rhissai. Besides, I doubt we're taking transportation with the means to bring back prisoners. I'm sure other squads or operatives are or will be out looking for people to capture. But that's not our goal."

Kvothe rose, sighing softly as he stretched his back. "With luck, we won't have to worry about the Unum at all." But since when do I ever have luck? "We'll see, though." He paused, a brow cocked as he noticed Math reaching up at Vesta.

"Um... If there's no furhter questions..."

[Dire Wolf]

"Okay," Rhissai said at the man's briefing. Despite the orders, she outright refused to kill someone unless it was absolutely necessary. Rhiss would maim. She would wound. She would not kill. The woman sighed heavily before glancing at the child-like girl who nearly interrupted her with a little smile on her face, "it's okay.

So... can we get this road on the show? Or... whatever the phrase is supposed to be?"

[Meira]

Vesta was thankful the plans for the mission seemed so simple. Simple meant she could spend less time worrying about remembering the plan and more time making sure she didn't screw up too royally. Now would not be a good time for that.

The others that had entered the room both piqued Vesta's curiosity and had her averting her eyes. New people were hard to approach under normal circumstances, but add in the fact that the Mythics were still a very strange assortment of beings to Vesta, and the fact that the one lady had a number of imaginary animals around her well... Vesta felt it was no time to get too curious. Not while Kvothe was speaking at least.

When Math burst into the room, Vesta couldn't help but grin. For whatever reason, she'd developed a deep fondness for Math after her initial hesitation toward him at their first meeting. She found his energy and his eccentricities amusing, doubly so if she were under a particularly strong dose of etherium.

He planted himself on the table top and Vesta was about to squee her greeting to him when the hallucinating lady beat her to it. Vesta had heard about the woman, but who hadn't? In any case, she'd never actually met her before. Aside from the animals around her that Vesta had to reminder herself weren't really there, she couldn't understand what all the fuss was about.

Another woman spoke, asking about prisoners, and Vesta turned her eyes back to Kvothe, but had to turn to Math instead when he decided to speak first. He gave his response, adding an odd little story, then made his silent wide eye plea for her to lift him from the table.

Unable to control herself, Vesta did just that as Kvothe gave his answer. No prisoners? Vesta thought to herself as she cradled Math in her arms. It was a disturbing thought, but she held onto the notion that such a thing would not have to be considered, that they would encounter no Unum supporters.

When the woman, apparently satisfied with the answer, suggested they get moving, Vesta stood from her chair and lifted Math to sit on her shoulders. She was ready to go, ready to show these Mythics what she was capable of. She snatched up Tax and made for the door.

[Kella]

Irrisorie giggled at Rhissai's turn of phrase.

"The show on the road, and yes, let's!"

She followed close behind Vesta and Math, while Adagio settled comfortably onto her shoulder. There was an eager spring in Iri's step as they made their way through the halls, the anticipation of an adventure to come.

Math seemed to be greatly enjoying his ride, and when they reached the hangar and his ship, he announced happily,

"Here is my baby! Don't touch it, and get it!"

"It's a very pretty ship," Iri commented, then did as she had been told, boarding the ship and lingering in the cockpit behind Math, watching with awe first the mad series of button flips and switches that sent Mat jumping around the cockpit that had been made for much longer arms, and then the results of all those buttons as the ship whirred to life and lifted off the ground.

"This is going to be so much fun," Iri beamed.