Eternal Rains (IC) [M] - Closed

[Snuggles]

Anton just watched as everything just unfolded. So much Pain in the air it was so sickening to him he wanted to stop it. He wanted to run out and save everyone from the pain they were experiencing. As Sheebus ran out for the harpist, Anton was finished being sick of the pain and tried to help him. In trying to cast a spell to help him, His will gave out. He hit the deck and skid across to the other side of the deck. Hitting the side almost knocking him out cold he managed to jump from the boat and let his wing float him down to the side of the dock that was nearest to the alleyway. He started to stumble towards the alleyway but falling short and hitting the ground with a loud thump. "Help! Please!" trying to get the attention of one of the group before falling unconscious.

[e_voyager]

Epyon sighed not speaking as he looked for the healing rabbit that he'd heard earlier in the bar. he didn't see him and they were ready to movie again. as much as he hated calling attention to himself he need some time to repair his damage then he head the work mythos. he shuttered closing all of his eyes ad he remembered what his bother had told him and what he'd seen.  after as moment careful to only open his lower eyes he cleared his throat. and sat the bear  down against the all. " i know we should run and all but can some one help me with the Bear? He should live but he needs more treatment then the rush job i gave him after that bloody bleeding explosion that vaporised the gunman."

[Tapewolf]

Cross' relief at seeing Paige make it turned to annoyance as two more people arrived.  "Okay, forget teleportation," he said bitterly, "There's too many people for that kind of thing.  The junkyard it is-"

He was cut short by a despairing yell.

"Shit!  It's the kid!"

Extruding a tentacle through his sleeve, he poked it around the corner to look. Illusion was one of his strengths so it was a trivial matter of concealing the head in his palm.  It was likely that the police would be drawn by that cry, and they didn't seem to be in the mood for games.  Would they execute a kid right there in the middle of the street?  He didn't want to find out.

You're falling for his disguise again, he reminded himself, and ran to grab Anton.  Whatever the kid's base form was like they had the appearance and weight of someone in their mid-teens, and straining, he carried them back to the others.

"That shout will draw them to us," he said tersely.  "We must go.  Now!"

[Stygian]

In response to all this suddenness and chaotic activity, and most of all to Witt's brusque rudeness, the figure looked back and forth, then made an exasperated gesture, striking her hands out in hopeless irritation. They hadn't reacted hostilely, which was good, but now she was caught up with them and the damn wolf still hadn't responded, and they were going to be moving on...
   What unnerved her most was the mentioning of the Sabanethei. That name called her attention to it, and as she glanced at the jackal in her unnerving instability and over the others who seemed simply lost amid it all, she was getting an urge to simply climb up on the rooftop again and run away. This was overcome a bit by her irritation with the stupidity of the situation though. She'd gotten her ass into this, and as always it was she who had to dislodge it from the metaphorical meat grinder, and while she wasn't betting that the police were so hard on their heels as they might have been she did not doubt that they would want to 'speak' to her in the case they encountered. So while it was painful to admit, the hedgehog seemed to have a very good point, and while she did give him a stare and a rude gesture behind his back, once it seemed evident that all the others were simply going to stand around for a while longer she opted to follow that one. She thus cast the wolf a grating, barely audible hiss and a glare, and then began following Witt with hard steps.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

Keaton's face remained firmly contorted in a brutal mask of rage throughout Cogidubnus's hasty explanation, although her ears were attentively erect and her eyes narrowed into thin, observant slits, scanning feverishly over Cog's face. He mentioned someone who could actually bring them to the Kamei'Sin Capital. This individual probably had a boat then, though she had never heard of a pier resting near a junkyard.. and when one was already readily available. Despite this rectification to their predicament, Keaton's features remained utterly stony, unreadable. Snarling venomously, Keaton finally relinquished her grip on Cog's shirt with a twist and stepped back.

"Good work, puppy," she said cruelly, "Looks like you talked yourself out of this one."

At that time, Witt decided to make his opinion known by shouting at the group to cease their activities and leave. Not that Keaton blamed him, she wanted to get going as well, especially since their position was volatile at best. Shortly after Witt's outburst, the small voice of what she could only assume to be an injured child cried out over the distant skirmish occurring at the docks. A moment later, Cross returned with Anton's beaten form, urging that they leave. That was all the encouragement Keaton needed. Whirling away from Cog, she glanced back and forth. As far as she could tell, Sheabus was absent from the group. Was he a casualty? Most likely.

That made Keaton hiss, infuriated. She snapped her head in Cog's direction. "What are you doing, pissing around? Show us where this girlfriend of yours lives!" she walked over to Epyon, who had leaned Dani's body against the wall, and took his bulky arm in her hands. "Come on, let's move," she said to Epyon. "We have to go, NOW."

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[e_voyager]

Taking the Bear's other arm he helped the jackal Keaton? or was the wolf Keaton? ah well it didn't matter at the moment but between the two of them carrying the bear would look more normal. during the little break he'd fixed his wing and it now looked more normal. hes sighed. he'd hoped the rabbit would be alb to heal the bear but he looked to be in almost as bad as shape as the bear. "some crew you picked miss" he said supporting about half the Bear's weight.
He wasn't sure but he hoped that he had fixed all the breaks in his skin. that last then he wanted was to give away secrets about himself the way the others were doing. his eyes itched to open but for now they would stay closed while he hoped the rumors he'd heard about mythos wars  were wrong.

[lucas marcone]

Dani was beginning to stir in his magic induced sleep.

[Cogidubnus]

Despite the conversations swirling around him, and oftentimes with questions pointed directly at the terrified lupine, Cogidubnus didn't respond to anything other than the chocolate orbs that were currently doing their best to drive hot, hate-filled spikes into his brain. Cog's face was a mask of fear - he gave a grimace of pain when Sal walked up and poked him hard in his injured shoulder, but even still, he was unresponsive. Staring into those eyes, terrified about what Keaton might do, hopeful that his...omissions, might go unnoticed, and he might be able to avoid any more pain for the time being.
Keaton tossed him from her grasp, into the wooden wall behind him. Cog hit it with a small whine, another pang shooting through his shoulder.

He didn't really have a moment to recover. Everyone already seemed to be on the move towards Cog's suggested haven - and the wolf cringed a bit inwardly, wondering what they might do if anyone paused to think why no one went into the junkyard. It didn't matter, though - booted footsteps far too close for comfort were approaching the alleyway, and with a lurch Cog began to follow the group. Despite himself, he found himself staying close to Keaton, limping after the jackal as fast as he could.
He spared a glance for the strange, hooded figure now following him. Despite the growing pain in his thigh and the mounting cravings he could feel in his brain, he found himself giving the cloaked figure more attention than she perhaps deserved. Finally, he shook his head.
Stupid...

* * *

With the hedgehog leading the way for the first leg, the party found itself quickly heading in a roundabout way through the mudded sidestreets and alleyways of Holiday, avoiding the main thoroughfares and main street altogether. Instead, they stayed far on the outskirts of town, where the buildings and the construction all around indicated that only the very new and the very poor lived this far away from the main port built almost into the center of the town. Buildings black with grime, tall and imposing over the grey skyline loomed down on them as they navigated stone streets that were beginning to lose their stones, turning the roadways into a mass of clay-like mud, nearly impossible to traverse. Wooden sidewalks had been erected by the sides of most of the buildings, in order to facilitate pedestrian traffic, and all around them the sounds and smells of the poorer and lower class inhabitants of Holiday pressed in upon them. Radio stations played music from one of the three stations that covered the Island, each one extremely local due to the storm's prevention of long-rage receiving - local television was usually limited to the weather, and sometimes a taped broadcast of something brought over from one far-distant continent or another. Smells of local fare, mostly things easily preserved or extremely fresh - the smells of seafood and bread wafted over the party as they walked through this section of town.

Finally, rounding the last corner, Witt walked around the side of a rather large wooden buildling to find himself staring at what looked like a deep, deep mountain of trash, placed in the center of almost a maze of junk, at least as large as several football fields. Old ships rusted red dotted the landscape, as did old pieces of scrap and rusted-out barrels - veritable mountains of bleeding metal. It was impossible to see the entire junkyard at once, walled in with trash as it was, and then walled again with a high, chain link fence topped with barbed wire. In front of them, at the gate, there was simply a guard hut, broken-down with disuse, and a single bar designed to prevent entry by vehicles through the open gate.

[Aisha deCabre]

I guess you're gonna have to get used to this, hermana, thought the panther as she kicked herself up from the wall, arms still crossed as her gaze wandered over the group.

The newcomer was one of few words, but after the show that she put on with the giant wasp, it was easy to see she would be good for the party.  One lost and one gained at last count.  All that was left to wonder about was whether or not anyone else would be lost or found.  At least there was also time to ponder over where they would go next as a boat was out of the question.  Aisha's nose wrinkled at the suggestion that Cogidubnus made...a junkyard?  Well, if someone was indeed there to help.

But finally, any time for thinking was broken up by suggestions to get moving...first by the curse-friendly hedgehog as he sped out of the darkened alleyway opposite from the direction of the docks...then by the dark gray-furred wolf as he came carrying the youngster of the party out of police fire.  But the panther hadn't even seen much, for she was already quite ahead and alongside the others, using the heights and the shadows to her advantage.

Perhaps it would have been puzzling, how Aisha already took to the roofs quickly, were it not for the fact that she was carrying her chain about her wrist.  The grappler was a rather handy thing if one couldn't be on the ground.

But soon enough their path led them out of the cleaner and more well-put together parts of the city in favor of the pit that was the outskirts of Holiday.  Soon she could not but join them on the ground, walking in silence in the more desolate and poorer portions, until the characteristic scent of the junkyard came waving across their senses, invisible but all the same encompassing.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Penny followed along quietly, watching the other members of the party as much as the surroundings. First fight and they already had some pretty bad looking injuries. She wondered if she should mention that she had a small amount of skill as a healer. But she had never used it on anyone but herself and never on a serious injury. She decided to hold off. Most creatures had a high healing rate and they would probably be just fine. Soon the junkyard and the promised  transportation loomed ominously out of the slum. For reasons she couldn't define the fur on the back of her neck stood on her end. She hurried a bit so she was closer to the others in the group.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt stumped up to the gate, and looked back over his shoulder at the others, then did a classic double-take, turned fully, and put his hands on his hips. His mouth dropped open, and his eyes almost glowed with envy.

A full five seconds passed, without him moving.

And then, he uttered a short, sharp curse. "SonofagodsdamnedmotherfuckingarsebanditBITCH! That sleazy-eyed father-raping cock-munching tea-bagging PIG! He got his rusty damn paws on that piece and I'm stuck with gods-forsaken BRICKS? That's just NOT FAIR, Gods-dammit!"

As his tirade paused for breath, the object of his ire could be seen in the bay - the tanker, holed and leaking, taking on water, and leaking it's cargo into the bay, the various groups of workers frantically running around like ants whose hill had been kicked over by a small boy, running tugs out to the stricken ship, shipping offloaded crew to the shore, shifting the punctured containers, attempting to contain the slick, or offload what they could before the ship as a whole sank, the whole nine yards. The trail of destruction leading away from the bay and back into Holiday itself, with riot-gear clad cops and dockworkers getting in each other's way wherever possible.

"The chicken-choking bastard spit-roasted an entire bloody ship! With one mother-fucking shot! The evil little foot-dragging bell end todger!"

His abusive stream continued on for a while, his arms waving, emphasising his discontent at the damage wrought by the fortunately non-present Wilson. Eventually, he wound down a touch, and, still grumbling (albeit not terribly quietly) to himself, winced as he waved his arms particularly wildly. "Fuck. Forgot the blasted rib. Ow, fucking meatbag'll get his when I catch the bastard..." He placed on hand on his rib, feeling gently for the crack, then shrugged, and turned on Keaton.

"So, what now, 'Oh Glorious Leader'?" - the quotation marks nearly audible in his sarcasm. "We stand around waiting for your little dog's friend to show up, or should we go sniffing around?"

[Stygian]

To herself, the figure wondered if the hedgehog was really stupid, or just didn't know how to shut up. At first having been one of those in the front, she had gradually fallen back to the side and then almost behind the walking troupe as she had realized that she didn't want them at her back. As they had walked, and as the dilapidation of the town around them had increased with their every step, so had her anxiety and edginess left her and been slowly replaced with irritated discomfort.
   She noticed the stares they earned every now and then, and the change in the scent and atmosphere, even though scent was not her primary sense. But she couldn't really notice much else, except the muted sounds of radios, and the tramping steps around her, since they weren't standing still for one moment. When finally they stopped in front of a huge junkyard, all she could sense around them was a low thrum from some engine running a bit off, and the odd creak from something that might have been a crane beyond the gates. There was a whiff of rust and gasoline in the air.
   Suddenly, the hedgehog stopped, and when she saw his discomfort the figure made a little crackling chuckle. Served him right. He didn't remain still for long though, before he fired off another tirade at the jackal, who had finally stepped forth. Leader? she found herself thinking, as she turned to peer with red eyes at Keaton from out under her hood. That does not bode well.

[Tezkat]

The blond panther stepped aside to let the loudmouthed hedgehog out of the alley. He seemed to find the whole scene amusing. Or maybe he was just one of those people who always smiled. Hands in his pockets again, he followed the hedgehog for a few blocks but then turned down a different street. He rounded a corner and was gone.

He was waiting for them by the junkyard, leaning against the delapidated wooden building across from the gate. A black leather hat--slightly wedge-shaped with a purple band--now protected his head from the eternal rain. A black leather satchel rested against his side, slung across his shoulders. He looked up and waved to the group as they came into view.

[e_voyager]

Epyon looked froward and saw the figure waving. he sighed. would the surprises of this night never end? he wondered again if they would see the light of day before they saw more action. and the fact that the bear was trying to move didn't help his train of through.

[Tapewolf]

"You could have helped," Cross grunted at the smiling panther as he lowered the stunned rabbit to the ground.

"Now," he said, turning to face Cog and the others.  "My Lord and I are fairly recent to the island and I know precious little of this junkyard.  What is the problem with it, and now we're here, where do we find this contact you mentioned?"

[Tezkat]

"How do you know I didn't? Heavy lifting isn't the only way to help wounded allies." The black jaguar opened a side pocket of his new satchel and withdrew a vial of purple liquid. "Healing potion. Tastes like grape soda and goes down easy."

His grin never faltered. He walked over and tipped his hat to the new arrivals.

"By the way, I don't believe we've been properly introduced. Edge Blackwind, warrior for hire."

[Tapewolf]

"Pettersohn," Cross replied.  It was tempting to introduce himself as the notorious crimelord and watch the others squirm, but it might give people the wrong idea.  There were bounties upon his head, after all.

"As for my business, I am neither for hire, nor hiring.  Let us just say that my Lord is competing with the Family in a certain niche market.  Disrupting their operations - even temporarily - would be most beneficial to our organisation."

[e_voyager]

Epyon readjusted the weight of the bear on his arm. he didn't need to but his mimicry of being alive had gone to the unconscious level. " will that help old sleeping bruin here? my spell to patch him up only took care of the life threatening injures and rebuilt his blood supply ( i hope) but he'll way up both sore and hungry unless he gets more attention. "

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt glanced over his shoulder at the newcomer.

At the comment about healing potions: "Got any in whisky flavour? They'd go down easier."

And then, in response to the introduction, he laconically returned "Witt. 'ow much?"

[Tapewolf]

Cross glanced at the hedgehog in disbelief.  Doesn't he know he's talking to a demon?  Actually, no... he wouldn't.  I just hope the ears remain intact!

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

Keaton contemptuously watched Cogidubnus scramble off, an ugly sneer twisting the corners of her mouth. In-between her skeptic analysis, she adjusted the position Dani's arm was draped around her shoulders to a more comfortable angle, then glanced at the suddenly-talkative Epyon. In response to his remark, she merely snorted derisively, buckling a little under Dani's considerable weight. "Quite a crew indeed..." she mumbled her agreement, gesturing for Epyon to move.

Lifting and carrying Dani was more difficult than Keaton had originally anticipated, especially without the aid of her wing-tentacles. Fortunately she was able to find some comfort in the fact Cogidubnus wouldn't have the group outrun her - that was, he wouldn't without understanding the ramifications of such misbehavior. As Cogidubnus and Witt (who was in front by far) led the way, the group followed close behind.

---

The travel went by uneventfully for Keaton. She was fortunately not plagued by any episodic spells of paranoia or insanity despite the increasingly sinister, corroded surroundings, finding the concentrated stench of collected garbage and the sight of dilapidated buildings more repulsive than anything horrifying and hallucination-worthy. Gagging a little behind her hand, Keaton pinched her nostrils together to shield herself from the intensifying smell as they neared the junkyard, edging her way awkwardly around the wall of a building. Almost every corner of the building's wall was coated in intricate, lacy patterns of cursive graffiti, the paint mostly dried and flaky against the wall, the fluorescent colors dull and muted as grime and dust congregated over the jumbled scrawl. Offhandedly, Keaton began to concoct numerous ways of disposing of the undoubtedly enormous mass of garbage they were approaching, mostly as a way to entertain herself, secondly as a method of tuning out Witt's exercise of his colorful vocabulary.

Why someone would live even remotely near a junkyard was beyond Keaton's understanding. The stench would drive someone mad, she imagined. Nobody could be that desperate, she surmised insensitively, just as she kicked aside an errant soda can. The offending can ricocheted off of the nearest wall and landed out of sight with a sharp clang. Not even the agitated scream of a stray cat followed.

Once they approached the gate, Keaton sighed and released her nostrils, only to be besieged with a sudden burst of foul fumes wafting up her nose. Eliciting a sharp choking sound in the back of her throat, she nearly staggered back, affronted by the repugnant stench. Unconsciously, her eyes climbed up the towering, hideous mass of garbage looming behind the gates, watching the different articles of trash, all different colors, all different materials, recyclable or not, disappear and mesh into the malodorous mountain. In the background, Witt's cursing reached its crescendo before he finally turned and addressed her. Almost consequentially, everyone else's attention seemed to be diverted to her as well, including the newest impromptu addition to their group. That cloaked... somebody, apparently. Wasn't much of a talker. She hadn't said anything since she showed up, but even she looked slightly expectant underneath her hood, or perhaps regretting her circumstances. Keaton didn't know; she didn't have the patience to deal with the mute.

Either way, Keaton didn't appreciate the palpable sarcasm oozing from Witt's voice. Narrowing her eyes and flattening her ears indignantly, she released Dani's arm and walked over to the gate, peering into the guardhouse. As far as she could see, nobody was there. She continued to examine the area while the black jaguar, another individual Keaton wasn't too familiar with, offered his services in the form of some healing formulas.

"I'm not waiting around for anybody. We're going through this shithole," Keaton said coldly, although with a sense of determination. As though expecting an immense outcry, she defensively leveled her hands. "Yes, I know, horrible and unsanitary, but the sooner we get through this the sooner we can get our asses off of Holiday. We have to make some sacrifices in order to succeed... and so on and so forth."

Already her mind was starting to wander from her misguided attempt at rallying the group together, so she didn't see any purpose in remaining on that tangent. Keaton grasped the bar hovering in front of her and attempted to lift it. It took some effort, since the hinges were encrusted and nearly sealed over with rust, but after a valiant struggle the gate gave way. Humming beatifically, Keaton lifted the gate, then she absently walked under the obstruction and carelessly lowered it behind her, the gate swiveling vertically back in place with a prolonged, guttural whine. "I doubt the cops would expect for us to go through the trash. Plus it'd be easy for them to lose our tracks there," Keaton said. "If anyone needs to puke, well... might as well do that anywhere. Wouldn't change a damn thing, I guess."

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Cogidubnus]

Cog avoided what stares and what questions he could, instead choosing to let Keaton bear the brunt of the sudden inquisition. He kept himself busy looking at nothing in particular while the yellow jackal attempted to rally the party's spirits, only twitching once as Mr. Petersohn aimed a question directly at the silver wolf. His yellow eyes shot to the side, the wolf suddenly implacably distracted.
"Problem? Why would there be a problem?" he said, casting a glance at the mountains of junk. "It's just a junkyard, as far as I know." he said, walking slowly towards the entrance.
  One skill universal to addicts everywhere is the ability to lie with great skill.

The strange and rather quick panther tended to the bear that had gotten shot up earlier, while the rest of the party seemed to stare at the destruction that the massive bolt through the center of town had caused. Cog turned his head to look at the destruction distantly, spotting the slowly-sinking tanker and letting out a small groan in contrast with Witt's enthusiastic cursing.
   "Oh, god..." he whispered, his mind wandering towards his meager apartment in the city, and the no-doubt massive price now on all of their heads.

Quickly, however, Keaton was moving into the junkyard itself, easily opening the rusted bar that served as the gate and passing through. Not nearly strong enough to accomplish the feat himself, Cog simply hopped over the rusted piece of metal and tore after the Jackal. His head seemed to be on a swivel, and turned as it he was trying to look in multiple directions at once.
Despite his sudden paranoia, he didn't look behind him - just on the other side of the gate, behind the valley dug between the outer walls of junk, the booted foot of a police officer could be seen lying prone on the muddy ground. There was blood covering the heel.

[e_voyager]

Epyon left the bear in the company of the blond feline his name was edge if he was to be believed not that it mattered. he was more interested in getting away form everyone long enough to a give himself a thorough going over. and be find this mythos and size them up. far better to be safe then sorry. And better to be completely alive then completely dead as it were.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt rolled his eyes, and shrugged. "Whatever." He sighed, casting an envious glance back over his shoulder at the mess in the harbour, and moved off after Keaton and Cogidubnus. Not bothered to raise the bar, he ducked under it instead, glancing to either side - and caught sight of the boot-heel.

Poor bastard. Probably never saw it coming. I wonder if his boots would fit me. He glanced around, then sidled, not entirely inconspicuously, into the valley, to see what he could find. A few moments later, he reappeared, having apparently transferred anything useful from the corpse to his own pocket or pockets, as appropriate. As an afterthought, he stepped back, and checked the boot against his own for size, sighed, and dropped it - and the attached leg - once more, before wiping his paw off on what remained of the unseen leg, and moving off after the silver wolf.

He did notice just how nervous the wolf was acting, despite his reassuring words, and checked to make sure his own knives were accessible - and swore, under his breath, about the two missing ones, once more.

I guess he's not as gods-damned comfortable here as he bloody well makes out. Well, stay on your fucking toes.. he thought to himself.

[Stygian]

Making another sigh that could only barely be perceived as a rattling sound from within her hood, the so far miraculously overlooked figure looked after Keaton and Cog as they entered. Ah, well. If they ran into some angry proprietor or guard-mythos, they would do so first and she wouldn't be the first one to complain. And unlike the others who seemed to display an exaggerated discomfort with the surroundings, she wasn't bothered by much except the stench, which she could filter out. She wondered what they were about to try in this place though. Their words before had touched upon the subject, but just what this 'friend' of the wolf's could do to get them off the island...
   Her thoughts a bit grumbling, the figure followed after the others. When she reached the heavy metal bar, she not so much lifted it as merely brushed it aside. It went all the way up on its hinges and stayed there, left open for the others behind.

[Boog]

Things had gone badly for Ty after his initial rush.
First, the bug had sent him off his feet with her second shockwave. Ty was big; he tended to fall HARD. Then it was as though the air itself around him became sharp as daggers, each accompanied by a note piercing as needles scraped across his bare brain, and after that a hint of some manner of music through the noise around him, reminding him of days when he didn't know what music even was...
As he got to his feet the world went white, the shriek and bellow of the firearm muffling his own roar as the blast carried him backward.

He awoke in an alleyway, lying against a dent he'd made in the top of a dumpster where he'd landed. Everything ached, but he was alive. The mythos meandered out into the street again, where things were going rather poorly. The authorities, it seemed, were in the middle of some manner of chain of command conflict and thus weren't likely to hear many eyewitness accounts. Ah well, I've every confidence in their- hm? In the window of a shop across from him. One of the fighters. Ty thought over what had just happened carefully. He had been seen by the insectis, and probably by her allies. They seemed like people unlikely to forget him. Ergo, best keep close to those who they were after; while the enemy of one's enemy isn't so often ones friend as they are often portrayed, the group seemed gratitude prone. Hence, when the woman left via the back of the shop he circled around to the alleyway the others had gathered in, just in time to see them leave. He made to follow them and was cut off by the crowds of people leaving the area, barely keeping track of the group through the half-panicked throngs. He followed at a distance as they made their way toward the junkyard.
He kept as unnoticeable as he could, keeping to the shadows and edges of the street. It was good that they were headed here; between the effects of fighting and its overall age his jacket looked ragged enough for him to blend in comparatively well here, if he hunched over a bit. As the pack of of Adventurers came to another halt he took the opportunity to make himself known. He brushed himself off a little and made his way forward.
"Ah, excuse me? This is the group from the docks, yes?" He said, hoping to make a good impression, "Tyrannus Deverdele. I don't suppose I could talk with whoever is in charge?" He assumed that it was the jackal, but assumptions could at times be untrustworthy things. "It won't take a moment, I assure you."

[Snuggles]

After a few seconds of being let down, Anton started to recover a little bit. Moving his hand up to his head and felling for the pain. He found it quickly as he touch a little blood. "Ow... What happened?" Looking around a little bit and now seeing that he was in a junkyard. "Wow... not as much of a change of scenery but still i don't know where we are." Getting to his feet again still rubbing his head a slight glow coming from his hand. "Is anyone else hurt?" Looking around at the people nearest to himself.

[Aisha deCabre]

As the group finally came around to the junkyard, Aisha had her ears pressed back tightly against her skull and her face in a tight grimace.  If she wasn't one to curse some of the time herself, Witt's tirade would have sent the panther right over her patience.  But that was quickly ignored when the stench of garbage became so strong that for a moment she gagged.  Rotting foods, soil, entrails, excrement, and several things that people would rather not guess at...

Yeah, way to go, THIS is glamorous, she snorted, wishing that she didn't have such powerful senses.  The demoness had smelled horrid things in her career, but if they were going to be strolling through this stuff, no amount of water and soap would probably take it off.  The only good thing about it was that nobody could be tracked by scent that way.

The other jaguar in the group greeted them at the entrance first, and there was but a small pause while a few individuals talked and the one that Pettersohn was carrying came to.  If anything Aisha could have had the same feelings as Keaton did about the group; strange lot, but they had survived (barely) so far.

"Aisha Risen," she replied when Edge made his introduction.  "May have heard everyone's names already, but with so many here it's hard to keep track...and some of us need their names added to the roster still," she added, glancing at the hooded one.

That's when, as they were moving along into the junkyard, a new voice was heard.  The monstrous saurian that had been around the group somewhat was now behind.  As he made himself known to the group, Aisha jerked her thumb forward.  "The jackal and wolf up there are in charge.  At least I think both of the perros are."

Pleasantries over with, the panthress turned and sidled under the bar, sparing a quick nod to the silent one and onward.

[Tapewolf]

"We are outside a junkyard," said Cross, watching the kid has he awoke. Cross couldn't have carried him much further, and it would have meant leaving him behind.  As far as he had seen, the kid hadn't proven his worth so leaving him behind was a sacrifice he was willing, if reluctant, to make.  It might even be better for the kid if he was a pacifist.  On the other hand, even a pacifist could make a powerful healer, so he was secretly pleased that the bunny would be joining them again.

"Distasteful, and possibly dangerous as it may be, this particular junkyard may hold the key to our leaving the island now our ship has been destroyed, so it seems we will have to enter."

The smell was bad, but through some clever internal shapeshifting, Cross was able to deaden his senses to it.  Having spoken, he turned and drawing his gun as a precaution, passed through the gate and crept softly after the others.

[e_voyager]

Epyon watched. there were all so noisy. when he entered the junkyard he'd been silent even not as he climbed this heap of junk he made as little nose as possible. still maybe his years in the crypt had ruined his love of noise and the city. or maybe he just felt that his existence was in danger and that the noise wasn't helping him. either way now that he was out of sight he has a few ribs and wing bones to fix. the inters organs would be hard still to figure out and fix be he should have time. that lot wouldn't be sneaking off anytime soon if it were even possible for them to sneak. . he finds and the pulls a rib bone out of his lung and  repositioned it  under his skin until he matched it up with where it had broken off of. the he began the healing process. this was going to take some time to make sure his body was 100% but then taking that time was probably when he wasn't a mindless flesh eater and could pass for alive more often then not.