2019-03-31: Touchdown in a Strange Land

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======================<* Luca - Residential District *>=======================

The people of Luca live in the center of the city, where massive seawalls and dykes have kept the weather at bay. There are markets here, but they are smaller and less bustling affairs; these are places for locals to shop at, with predictable goods. Many of the stores trade in the official merchandise of Blitzball teams. There are also cafes, restaurants, and other amenities those from beyond Spira might be used to. The environment is cosmopolitan.

It is, however, dim -- not in cheer, but in lighting. Both stone structure and huge canopies cover the tops of the city, save for the Blitzball Stadium. This helps keep frequent rains from putting a damper on the city, and life here is as frantic as it can be elsewhere in Luca.

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CIlRCYnZcg
<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

It is not long after Vinsfeld Rhadamanthus gave his speech to all of Filgaia.

The last thing Jacqueline remembered, she was there - in Elru, specifically. There was an ominous light spreading forth, consuming practically everything. She fainted, not long after that.

The situation would be the same for others, as well - the light spared no one, save a select few. It reached out, swallowing everything in its path, and those touched by this light would find themselves somewhere different entirely.

They were in Spira - the mythical land beyond the edges of Lunar's map. Long thought to be a myth, most people, anyway, but now it is all, all too real.

A good number of them have ended up in the port city of Luca - in many ways the heart of Spira, keeping the archipelago alive with steady trade.

Jacqueline is not entirely sure how long she had been unconscious. But she begins to stir and, with a groan, sits up. Her vision is blurry, and it's as if there's a thick fog over her mind. What was she doing...?

Jacqueline shuts her eyes tight and raises a hand to massage her forehead, and...oh, her glasses are missing. That explains the vision problem, at least. She fumbles about, grasping blindly for her glasses and eventually managing to find them. She puts them on...

...And lets out a gasp of shock. She was in a bustling city, she knew that much - she recognized the signs of citylife. But the people, and the architecture, and even the signs...they were all far different from everything she was used to.

Jacqueline, herself, is currently in the middle of a pile of crates. They provide some nice shade, which is helpful, because now that consciousness and feeling both are returning to her, something becomes immediately obvious - it is really quite warm here!

"...Where am I...?" She mutters, rubbing her eyes. And, more importantly...

Where was everyone else?

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

Luca is a city unlike anything she's seen before. But it's also a city with an air and aesthetic to it that she can understand. It's not a tiered, conservative metropolis like Elensia and it's not a collection of yurts like the average nomadic camp - it's a seaside redoubt full of people she feels she can grasp intuitively.

She moves through the streets expertly, not knowing the way around, but collecting directions in her mind and following them where they lead. Her feet are bare against the warm stones. Feathers brush against her legs. Flicking back a few curls with a shimmer of beads, she looks from place to place, stopping now and then to talk to shopkeepers.

The scenery is nice. But more important is the search. The search for familiar faces. Familiar people.

"Jacqueline?"

The voice comes from just ahead of the awakening alchemist, just past the crates. Another shadow flickers across the ground just beyond the crateheap.

It's Catenna. She's dressed in something completely unlike her usual outfits, looking a lot like a two-piece swimsuit and a dress had a kid, and the kid was detached sleeves. The pattern racing through everything is dramatic. She's got her feather fans at her side, her Medium clipped to one of the ties of her skirt, but she's shoeless.

"Jay, are you alright?" Catenna asks as she rests her hand on one of the crates and leans in.

Catenna had woken up earlier than most of the others. While Jay was unconscious, Catenna had at least half an hour to get up, walk around and buy some clothes. She's been looking for her friends since.

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

 
A woman walks through the streets of Luca.

A woman who has long loose blondeish hair, much of it in a sprawling tight curl as if it was braided for a long time. A woman with naturally light-brown skin. A woman who apparently was WAYLAID BY FIENDS, because she has a bunch of bandages on her face and throat. (Unlike the much paler swordswoman with similar face bandages, these have an obvious little divot in them where they can be peeked through.)

Said bandages have a lot of extremely legitimate* blood** on them, too. Yup, sure do.

The rest of her clothing might be... vaguely familiar. But it is when she sees someone near there that this woman approaches Jay. Speaking in a loud, nasal monotone, the woman says, "HELLO THERE, FELLOW FOLLOWER OF THE - cough - please EXCUSE me, I surely did get attack by FIENDS and hoo hoo nelly did I hurt my throaty-woats and my eye meats!"

The woman makes a blitzball gesture. Or is it a sacred sign?

Then she crouches near Jay and says in her normal voice in a low mutter, "Bad news. We are near where I am from. It is Prissa, by the way. Do not take offense if I make like your voice, I am trying to sound like a follower of Yevon."

Prissa turns her head a little. "Ah, Catenna, you fit right in."

<Pose Tracker> Mariel has posed.

Mariel had not been at Vinsfeld's speech.

She didn't have to be to hear the words. His voice had come out of half a dozen metal objects she kept in her room, to say nothing of whatever Prissa had sitting around; a couple small metal trays, a tin plate, a sliver of face out of the knife next to it.

His words had worried her, but Mariel tended to not want anything to do with human politics; she'd done her best to cut herself away from it. But this time, she doesn't get a choice, as the light gathers her up without any way for her to object.

Mariel is actually not that far from Jacqueline, as the seagull flies, but completely hidden behind crates from her perspective. She appeared propped up against a crate but upside down, so that her robe is tangling around her legs and her braids are flopped all over the ground. It is extremely undignified, but Mariel rights herself immediately, blinking as she awakens.

And then her eyes widen. "The world..."

Mariel can't feel Filgaia. Or, no - she can, when she really tries; muted not by any barricade or noise, like when Mother interfered, but by sheer distance. She can comprehend the distances involved and she wishes she couldn't. It's so, so far away.

Mariel is struck by a wave of homesickness so strong that she just kind of curls up for a moment before forcing herself to rise. Her satchel, at least, has landed next to her; she picks it up, dusting it off, before pausing. Her head tilts; one of her ears rises, just slightly.

She knows those voices.

"Hello?" Mariel steps around the crates, blinking in the sudden light as she looks at Jacqueline, Prissa, and Catenna. She brightens almost immediately, though it isn't enough to completely overcome her sense of longing homesickness. "You're here, too!"

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

Spirit trots up and licks Jay's face.

Kourin, for her part, is also hidden behind crates, but she soon follows Spirit out, and is very relieved to see her friends.

In Arctica she was underdressed, but here Kourin appears to be rather overdressed. "I must buy new clothes," she murmurs. "I do not enjoy standing out."

"Is everyone unharmed save this bandaged stranger?"

<Pose Tracker> Arleph Ardan has posed.

 Then a monster steps out of the water.
 
 No, sorry. It's a tan-skinned man with long red-brown hair that is TIGHTLY stuck to all around his face, down to his shoulders, wearing some EXTREMLY soaked long coat, a hat that pitifully hangs limply all around his face. Water just POURS out of his every little fiber of his being, covered in a thick, deep layer of sea weed, stumbling his way on the side of the area. He stumbles onward, one step as shaky as the last as he takes in the surroundings.
 
 Unbearably hot. Humid -- minus the dampness he's been in --, very different architecture.
 
 Arleph lets out a strange noise, gags once and spits out something in a hurry. A tiny crab tumbles noisily on the ground then skitters away.
 
 "I hate teleportation magic." Ardan mutters, loudly.

<Pose Tracker> Ethius Hesiod has posed.

    NOT LONG AGO
 
     Ethius' head hurt (again). One moment, he had found a weakness in the otherwise iron-clad defensive formation by one of the greatest military minds in modern FIlgaian history, in which to watch from cover underneath a piece of debris. He could see the olive and black-clad soldiers. They had something with them he wanted to see, but couldn't without giving away his position.
     Someone (...or a something?) leapt upon his hiding spot, and pain shot through his head as color and sound swam. There was fire, there was sound. Yet, one would speak words that were far too clear for his circumstances. As though the voice simply demanded to be heeded, of a character that could have pierced even the thickest fog of compromised cognition. They were impassionate. They were unyielding. They were many. Then, the light...
 
     NOW
 
     Ethius lied sprawled out... somewhere. There were voices. The sun glared, and teased his eyes open. His right hand went up to his eyes to block out the sun's blinding, and colors started to come back tog--
     The color of the sky. Most would say 'blue.' It is blue. It shouldn't be indicative of anything more than it being the sky, but somehow, he registered the slightest difference in hue... and the tiny accents and slivers of a shape in the air. He could just make out a blue crescent.
     Murmurs. The white-and-red-haired man slapped his right hand back on the ground. Gently, stopping himself from smearing his blood on the street. He wiped it against the bandanna on his face out of habit, as if he did not want a drop to be left anywhere. An issue, with the wound.
     More colors sharpened, as he looked to the surrounding architecture. The people--
     His eyes widened. His body did not have the strength to stand on its own merits, and yet, something compels him that he can't let that be an excuse. He grew dizzy and uncoordinated as he did so. A reflex, deeply ingrained, as a local approached with an outstretched hand.
     They were met with a satchel that softly struck against them. He forgot to cast the spell to activate it. He twisted the fingers of his free hand and stammered the syllables louder than intended, and threw it again.
     A dust cover. He had to run. He had to escape.
     He felt exposed in a way he more than disliked. More than hated.
     He felt exposed in a way he feared.
 
     NOW, BUT A LITTLE LATER TO CATCH UP WITH OTHERS' NOWS
 
     Ethius is out of breath. He went through both satchels, and then had to make due with a small bag of grains as a substitute for a third. It was a dice roll as to whether that would've worked. He slumps down in an alley somewhere, near refuse and garbage.
     He could scarce put together what happened prior thanks to... whatever happened. Was his hiding place insecure then? Where's everyone?
     Where is everyone? What are they doing? Incidental chatter occasionally sees him dart up and out of his hiding spot and back. Words that are familiar, but he can't put them to any voice he knows. Who is speaking? It's someone that-- where are they what are they doing
     He is dehydrated. It is far too warm for what he is wearing, but the alternative is-- he can't entertain that alternative
     Separated from the rest, Ethius' mind races with possibilities he can't embody with words but seems aware of the idea of - all of them bad.
     All of them catastrophic.
     As seems to embody his particular brand of madness.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

Lydia Seren appears in Luca.

She blinks a few times. There's a few startled individuals thanks to her just appearing in the middle of a city. She notably looks, uh, pretty machina so she isn't really getting GOOD looks or anything. She just kind of rubs the back of her her sheepishly and glances about. "Um." She says.

"What."

She sees Mariel first because she tends to stand out to her and makes her way through the crowd. Luckily she's being given a wide enough berth that she can move in that direction without too much trouble.

But then she sees Prissa and brightens at first but then pauses as she sees the bandages.

"Prissa! You okay?" She jogs on over. "I'm getting kind of freaked out here...!"

Prissa says that's where they're she's from. Lydia almost says something but Prissa says it's bad news, so she kind of clamps her mouth shut again.

She rubs at her neck for a bit and adds, "I'm guessing... I do...not...blend in. And...that's bad?"

<Pose Tracker> Tesni Inoue has posed.

Waking up in a place that was utterly alien to her? Had become the new normal for Tess. Before she was woken up she was troubled by strange dreams of her home and the people she'd come to consider just about family here. She woke up somewhere that was not Filgaia. She took a moment before she opened her eyes to make sure her limbs were in working order and forced herself up, she took the deadman's ARM and put it back in storage place of her backpack and hobbled over to get back on her feet.

 She looked so out of place even if not for her clothing her pale complexion might be considered somewhat sickly by the locals at first glance. Then it hits her with the force of a crashlanding humdnity.

 She was already basting in her own clothing.

 "Jac? Kourin? I'm alive... and I'm going to end up like boiled crab at this rate."

 She was so over dressed for Spira it was silly and a health hazard at this point.

<Pose Tracker> Precis F. Neumann has posed.

Precis had been busy welding when suddenly the mysterious speech called out to her. "Oh no! I didn't ventilate the room well enough and now I'm hallucinating about weird old men again!" proclaims the mechanic in a panic just as the bright light overtakes her too.

The BRZZZZZZT-BRZZZZZT of an out of sync wake-up alarm causes a small blue robot to spring to life and peer about the unknown alleyway it found itself in. It does not take the blue bobot long to find the nearby unconscious body of Precis to which it soon waddles over towards, and then the blue bobot begins "Precis Wake-up Procedure No.004". It starts banging its hammer hands together like impromptu percussion instruments as per standard procedure.

But Precis doesn't stir.

And now her secondary wake-up alarm activates and Bobot 2 gets up and starts whirling its drills inbetween the Bobot's cacophony of hammering. And it is to these sweet sounds that Precis awakes to a brand new world and immediately starts chasing after her bobots whom were already fleeing from their enraged creator. In short, just the typical morning thus far for the young inventor.

Only after deactivating her bobots and rubbing her eyes a bit does Precis realize that this wasn't her bed. This wasn't her bed at all! And why was there someone angrily pointing down the alley and shouting "Mach-e-nah" at her? Precis soon realizes gathers up her beloved creations and decides to make a run for it rather than try to talk her way out of this one.

Precis head out the other side of the alley and promptly rounds the nearest corner with her bobots held tightly in her arms. This causes her to nearly collide into the small group of vaguely familiar people and strangers gathered around. "Woah! What is everyone else doing in my nightmare?" The still not-fully-woken up machina master asks.

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

MEANWHILE, ON A NEARBY ROOFTOP.

"Mmmmngh," Cyre Lorentz murmurs sleepily, dressed in peach-and-cream cat-print pajamas (because of course he wears those). He yawns and stretches, his fingers uncurling and kneading into the air, back arching lazily outward. The sun... The sun is nice and warm on his face and warm on his body. The air is nice and fresh and the wind smells distinctly of salty sea. A gentle breeze toussles his hair ever so slightly. It's nice and peaceful and the perfect place to nap.

But then... something like a cloud seems to scroll across the sky. The sunlight goes dim and the scent of something like wild animal fills the air. Cyre mutters grumpily, but it's nothing he can't sleep through. Stupid Ethius, he thinks, puttin' out the sun after tryin' to wake him up earlier. Rude sunna gonna give 'im a talkin' to--

Cyre only realizes that something is terribly wrong when it starts raining. This is a problem because he WAS napping indoors, as far as he was aware. It shouldn't be raining. It shouldn't be windy either, but Cyre figured Fengalon was doing him a solid. But somehow... Somehow this rain feels... weird and warm and slimey and smells terrible-- and then something big and wet and sloppy informs him that it's not in fact rain by licking even harder at his face.

Cyre's eyes fly open, and instead of the face of his lovely lady there gently stirring him from his sleep, he finds...

...An enormous, worried-looking doggo, concerned that his best friend wasn't waking up after ending up in such a weird and unfamiliar place.

"Augh!" Cyre aughs, and practically leaps backwards. This is a problem because he is shortly thereafter pursued by an overjoyed dire doggowolf about as large as he is, who has somehow yet to learn how its own momentum works. So instead of landing on solid ground, the two instead shoot clear off the rooftop and hang in mid-air for a fraction of a second before gravity abruptly reminds them that it exists.

Fortunately, the wind does too. Which is why everyone down below gets abundant warning that something fluffy this way comes in the form of a sudden gust of wind.

It's followed shortly thereafter by a muffled *WHUMPF* of man and dog landing together in a great heap on the ground.

"...Ow," Cyre groans, "...Damnit, I gotta lay off that late night stuff. Sleep-nappin' in sunbeams ain't productive--"

It... looks like he hasn't quite realized where he is yet.

Hm.

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

There's a voice - a familiar voice, as she awokens.

"...Catenna?" Jacqueline says. She blinks once, twice...and then there's a Spirit, trotting up to her and licking her face. Jacqueline reaches up, giving him an appreciative pat.

"I-I...I don't know." Jacqueline says simply. Her body aches all over and thinking is hard, but a rather loud voice cuts through the fog.

It isn't familiar...until the source leans in.

"Prissa? Where are we?" Jacqueline asks. She's not sure why Prissa is lowering her voice, or what a 'Yevon' is, but she follows suit. With a grunt she grabs onto a nearby crate, using it to lift herself up. Her body almost rejects this action, but she forces it to do so anyway.

...It's only once she does so that she spots Mariel, obscured behind the crates.

"It's good to see you too..." She comments, offering her a week smile. She looks toward Tesni, then, offering her a nod. "I think we all are...except for Catenna and Prissa, that is. Is it always this hot here...?"

Jacqueline shuts her eyes and shakes her head. She had to focus.

"Is everyone alright? We should probably get moving...we're starting to attract attention, I think." She says.

...Ironically said as Precis rounds the corner and nearly runs right into them. Jacqueline is relieved to see the robo - excuse me, boboticist - is alright, though she's a little conflicted...she never meant to drag her all the way to another world.

"...Sorry, Precis, it isn't a nightmare... Are you okay? It looks like we're, um...a little far from home." Jacqueline says with a sad smile.

She looks around. Everyone who was in the general area seems to be here at the moment...except, she doesn't spot Ethius, or Cyre. Jacqueline sighs.

"Let's get moving...if it's anything like last time, the Carakin is probably with us here." Jacqueline decides, then looks to Prissa. "It sounds like you know the area...what's the quickest way out of the city?"

The quickest out of the city, as it happens, will lead them right on the fastest path toward the Carakin - which currently has quite a few people gawking over it in surprise, and wondering whether it is some kind of new Al Bhed machina.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"Take it easy, Jay," Catenna urges.

But she's not alone - and people begin to converge. Catenna blinks at Prissa a time or two, momentarily taken aback by the woman's tone.

But she catches the woman's quieter words. The Moon Shaman frowns, kneeling to check on Jay in her own right, but soon snapping her eyes over towards her Spiran friend again. "Prissa, you're hurt...."

When Mariel comes around the crate, Catenna looks up with a gasp. Visible relief blooms across her face. "Mariel...! You're okay -- thank goodness. Yes, we're here...."

Wherever here is. Prissa's home turf. And it sounds like it's bad news.

Catenna frowns deeply, looking down at herself, then back over to Prissa. "I heard the name Yevon... I was not sure what it was. At least the style here is not very different from some regular Zortroan styles. Though someone asked if I was a Summoner for some reason...?"

From Catenna's shoulder, the Owlet leans forward. Yellow eyes focus intently on Prissa. The small white bird puffs up slightly, clicking her bill a time or two.

<This place feels wrong,> the tiny avian conveys. <Catenna, we should not be here. We can't be.> The tone isn't her usual quiet serenity - it's an anxious tension.

Catenna reaches up to brush her fingers over the back of the Owlet's head. "You're sensing something...?"

<I... I don't know what it is,> the bird admits in a tone of quiet helplessness.

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

 
Prissa is discernible to Spirit as 'Prissa, but she put mushroom ketchup on her face and neck for some reason.' (It's brownish, and thus a more plausible blood candidate!)

Prissa waves at Mariel, waving her over. "Prayer group!" she declares, perhaps for cover.

"Lydie I just LOVE your slim fit armor! Shucky ducky!" says Prissa loudly, even as she shakes her head in a big No arc at Lydia. She mimes like putting on a poncho, and does a big nod as if to say: that's what's next.

She hears motion, looks at Ethius slumping in garbage, and looks back to all the non-Ethius people.

"In Luca," Prissa explains to Jay. "Big harbor town. More I will tell you later. I don't know everything the best, I have only been to the mainland a few times. It is funny, I wanted to find a travel agency and make my swords but instead I am on a great adventure with all of you, hey?"

To Precis, Prissa says, "To some a dream... to others a nightmare."

To Jay's question, she answers, "That gate." She points to the mysteriously nearby gate, which had been briefly occluded from view by a portly Ronso having a sandwich.

OUTWARDS

"I sure do love the teachin's," Prissa says as they pass the portly Ronso.

Right outside the walls there's a cleared out section but indeed the Carakin is present, having landed in a muddy space nearish the tree line. Prissa gestures towards it. "The door I locked," she says. "In it when the transit happened, I was. I am a little under stress. Uh, let me think."

She looks around.

"Local clothes for all of you," she says. "Also, your currency will be worth little here. Better if you try to make sales to get working capital. Uhm... ask me anything." She scratches her head. "My hair feels weird like this, but - hold on."

A rip and the bandages are off her face! This reveals, in clear light of day, that Prissa's eyes aren't just sort of weird green-and-black, but - in the strong tropical light of Spira - have a strange, swirled pattern to them.

"That is good. We will want to find a travel agency, somewhere."

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

Jacqueline pauses for a brief moment. She hadn't thought too much of it before but she was kind of out of it, but...

"...Um, Arleph, what happened to you?" She asks. Why is he currently drenched?

...And why are Cyre and Waffles on a roof over there? What did she miss??

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

Kourin is also confused. "What is a Yevon?" she asks, sidling away from the drenched Arleph so as not to freeze him. Spirit wags his tail at Prissa and barks once.

As they pass through the streets Kourin slips off for a few moments, bartering some trinkets away for a flowing blue coat in local style, which she dons over her tunic and trousers outfit. She's still overdressed, but at least it's local overdressed.

"What is this place?" she asks once they're at the Carakin. "Where are we?"

<Pose Tracker> Mariel has posed.

Mariel takes a big step to one side as Cyre drops down. It's like she knew.

Mariel is picking up the agitation from the Owlet, and personally she agrees with her, but it's not like saying that will make it better.

"It's because," Mariel says, but is overridden by Prissa talking over her to Lydia. Mariel looks apologetic toward Lydia, but says nothing else to her.

She says, afterwards and more quietly, "It is because Filgaia is very far away. I can feel it, but... it's so far." She looks up at the sky, but then back down when her gaze tracks too close to the sun by mistake. "...It really is warm here, isn't it?"

TO THE CARAVAN

Mariel has adjusted the little headkerchief she wears twice en route. There's only so much she can do. At least she's seen other Beastmen (well, 'other' 'Beastmen'; she's seen Ronso and Guado, and she's not a beastman either, but close enough) and so she doesn't feel like she stands out quite as much on that front. Not like, say, Lydia.

And she's listened as they walked. Those ears are not for show. She hasn't picked up a lot of knowledge, but she's heard a few words as she passed by; 'blitzball', and 'tournament', and 'summoner'. She doesn't have a lot of context to attach them to, but at least she has some nouns to bounce around.

She does look up at Prissa as they come to a stop, and she removes the bandage. Mariel does not comment on the eyes immediately at least, preferring to ask: "What local clothes? Do beastmen other than the, ah - " She makes a gesture near her head that might be for a horn. " - exist here? And why did you disguise us as a prayer group who, ah, 'loves the teachings'?"

She pauses, and then adds the most important question of all: "How do we return?"

<Pose Tracker> Ethius Hesiod has posed.

    BACK OVER NEAR THE GARBAGE (ethius' home away from home, maybe the closest to a place he belongs to in some time)
 
     Ethius' reserved body language is all but evaporated. He is troubled by the words he's hearing, unable to make out voices for a time. He has been unable to properly replace his clothing, but he knows he shouldn't yet remove it for lack of anything better to obscure his body with. The most he has is a stolen banner that he is wrapping around himself like an oversized shawl, which he recognizes is not enough.
     Soon, he can make out familiar voices speaking in measured calm. Compared to the last time, to an outside observer of sound mine, the CaraKin has taken much better to the idea of being moved to environs unfamiliar. And yet...
     Ethius, still with a head wound, does not find any such relaxation or emotional center. He is out of the section of the markets in which he could attempt to procure a gamble of a makeshift smoke bomb. He ducks out of the alley momentarily to make out the route, back. He can't go that way. Too many... people.
     He has to chance another alley network in a roundabout way. It seems almost comical, devoid of context, a man running through one of the more run-down parts of the great port city with reckless abandon for a stomach that is empty, a head that still swims, and a concept of something he knows is bad beyond bad but will not (...or can not?) say why. He is counting on the stark white banner wrapped around him to guide eyes upwards, away from the pants and the boots he wears that do not much clothing styles here. If he had it his way, he'd be completely invisible.
     He does not like being seen, but he has no other options available to him in his rush to head out the way the others did once he finds that route--
 
     THEN SUDDENLY AT THE CARAVAN
 
     "Drive. Drive now!" That's an exclamation point. Ethius' distant tone of voice is gone. The measured pace in which he speaks, gone. He sounds indistinguishable from someone in the middle of a nervous breakdown, wrapped in a stark white banner.
     It's probably some of the best acting he's done in a long while.
     "This can't be here!" He says.
     Left unchecked he is going to get himself inside the driver's seat and NOTHING GOOD WILL COME OF THIS

<Pose Tracker> Tesni Inoue has posed.

Tesni Inoue takes stock of everyone else who is there, she's glad to not be alone, dropped into another world again alone is a very legit fear Tesnei has as it has befallen her before. She takes stock of everyone.

 "No we been thrown to another world again." She'll make sure her arm is stowed, she'll then just get up and mutters taking her canteen and downing the entire contents in one gulp before she forms up.

 "Look you have us with you Precia don't worry!"

 She tries to offer some confidence they will be all right.

 "Right we ain't no road show."

 SHe notes before shell get up and she'll hoof it with everyone else.

 She'll keep an eye on Ethius if she spots but she distracted by Prissa's word she'll listen intently to her for a moment.

 "Well it's better to be on one with other than alone? It's hell to be on your own in such a situation."

 She does seem to be on alert thought and she'll push for the gate.

<Pose Tracker> Tesni Inoue has posed.

Tesni Inoue takes stock of everyone else who is there, she's glad to not be alone, dropped into another world again alone is a very legit fear Tesnei has as it has befallen her before. She takes stock of everyone.

 "No we been thrown to another world again." She'll make sure her arm is stowed, she'll then just get up and mutters taking her canteen and downing the entire contents in one gulp before she forms up.

 "Look you have us with you Precia don't worry!"

 She tries to offer some confidence they will be all right.

 "Right we ain't no road show."

 SHe notes before shell get up and she'll hoof it with everyone else.

 She'll keep an eye on Ethius if she spots but she distracted by Prissa's word she'll listen intently to her for a moment.

 "Well it's better to be on one with other than alone? It's hell to be on your own in such a situation."

 She does seem to be on alert thought and she'll push for the gate.

 CARAVAN

 "Ya, we kinda stick out like we are, hmm I could try singing on a street corner might be able to get a few coins that way.

 Tess pauses at Prissa's eyes through her own widening a little bit.

 "Never seen eyes like that before... and yes sounds like a good idea to me. We don't want to cause a ruckus. Now excuse me I need to get into something I won't broil alive in."

 She'll duck into the caravan and later exit in a simple pair of shorts and a tank top, she's also got her canteen refilled too. It's gone in short order.

<Pose Tracker> Precis F. Neumann has posed.


    Precis just sort of stands there, hugging her bobots to herself. They are a little on the bulky side, but the teen is seemingly able to handle holding them there with some effort. She looks between Prissa and Jay as they affirm that this isn't some nightmare. But it only takes one glance up at the sweltering sun for the young inventor to think otherwise. She sets her bobots down now at her feet and removes her backpack as she tries to process everything about their new circumstances all at once.

"Not a nightmare and we are far from home?" Precis nods her head solemnly before suddenly looking very much her actual age. "I want to go home," mentions the boboticist softly as she inspects her creations idly before placing them one by one into her backpack. She zips her backpack closed before slinging it back onto her shoulders. She sniffles a bit before falling in line with the group as the venture out of the city and towards the caravan at large.

Tesni's words are enough for Precis to smile a little at least.

<Pose Tracker> Arleph Ardan has posed.

 Arleph appreciates Kourin's presence of mind. He would very much freeze if there's too much cold headed his way in this current state. The Symbologist is giving a bit of a wide stare at everything and everyone around him, wobbling on his feet subtly as he blink, stare and blare around and about.
 
 He takes the new cloths, still rather stunned and semi-out of it, attempting to shake his head a few times before refocusing on Jay, who apparently didn't have much of a better time.
 
 "Ah." He begins, wiping off some weed out of his hair, pushing some of his LONG hair out of his face to get a breath in. "I appeared underwater. I didn't have my water repelling Symbols on. I, uh. Well, I struggled, let's go with that."
 
 He adjusts his gloves, giving the new clothes a look, Prissa another curious look. Alright, Arleph, get it together. "Right, well, let's get out of public sight as soon as possible and try to reconvene to gather everyone. Prissa, plese take the lead." He lets out, eyeing the Ronso. Another species he don't know. Huh!
 
 He gives a look to the clothes. This is gonna be a pain.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

Lydia looks to Prissa for a moment, blinking cluelessly before she eventually getting what she's saying. "Oh yeah! Real cool armor! Totally not part of my body Ha ha Ha... Like a costume. Yeah. Thanks, Prissa, I love your...." Pause. "Face...cream?"

She smiles a bit more genuinely when Prissa goes into her circumstances. Sure, hiring Prissa was something of an off the cuff business decision at the time but she's really made a friend she couldn't live iwthout.

"Praise You, Yevon." Lydia tells random people as she follows Prissa towards the Caravan.

She looks towards Mariel and shakes her head. No apology needed. "Glad to see you're okay too, Mariel." She says to her pal. "Let's quit this popsicle stand."

TO THE CARAVAN

"Man, nevermind returning, how do we friggin' eat? Find shelter? Not be ostracized by the community at large? Make money? I mean... I don't know if that 'slim armor' thing fits under, like, scrutiny? Or passing glances if someone's a suspicious sort and I dunno you but I'm feeling like there's a lot of suspicious sorts here."

She gives Ethius a faint squint as he starts shouting at them to 'drive away' when a new voice pipes in.

"Well hold on there, friend kidnapper, I've been waiting for you."

The voice belongs to a man wrapped in bandages along his arms, and about half his face but nonetheless wearing a captain's cap around his head. He has a long scraggly beard and seems like he's been through a rough time lately.

He bows his head towards Jacqueline Barber. "Tadpole said you'd be showing up here. Didn't expect to see your caravan park unattended, friend kidnapper excepted."

"Name's Harken." The man says. "T'wasn't easy getting here, but the Kinship Alliance... is at your service. If getting away is what ye need, then that is a service I can provide."

He then turns towards Lydia. "Strange new look for you, Lydia!"

"...What the fuck happened to you?" Lydia asks.

"Was a long journey friend. And is that... Prissa? Well, least we won't be having any shortage of blades around here."

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

It would be a very bad thing if Ethius hijacked the Carakin and took it for a wild joyride through the city of Luca. It qualifies as Machina, doesn't it? Like, that would be enough to smother any decent prospect of legitimate economic activity in the cradle! Sure, they could go the Black Market route again, but that's just way too stressful.

Of course, Cyre doesn't know about any of that as he staggers upright from where he'd landed right next to an unpancaked Mariel. All he sees is Ethius bleeding from a headwound and looking like he'd gone extra crazy from the concussion. Nobody should drive with a concussion, that much is plain and clear. And so Cyre orders...!

"Waffles! Ethius needs a hug!"

There's a terrible, ominous 'BJORK' as a great big mass of fur barrels for the scrambling mage. To give him a hug. And many, many, many licks. Said furball is followed shortly thereafter by a sleepy-looking, pajama'd Cyre Lorentz who's still wiping the dirt from his eyes and processing what the blazes happened to all of them.

And then it hits him.

There's no wind this nice or sunlight this comfy on Filgaia.

"Ah shit," Cyre concludes, "We're back on the moon, aren't we?"

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

"We cannot be on Lunar," Kourin breathes, eyes wide. "This is..."

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"Luca," Catenna murmurs, frowning and taking note of the name. She'd heard it before but getting it confirmed helps.

The pattern in Prissa's eyes is new to Catenna; the intensity of their green wasn't, but this is different. The Moon Shaman moves the Owlet from her shoulder and into her cradling hands, stroking her with the backs of her thumbs as if to try and calm her. "...Local clothing makes sense. Prissa, if you give me some pointers I think I should be able to help with that--"

Someone else drops down. Catenna widens her eyes and gasps. "Cyre!!"

To Mariel's words, the Owlet ducks her head a little, closing her eyes. <...There is something more about this place. Something not about the distance.>

Catenna doesn't say anything on the way out. She just nods to curious onlookers with a polite smile.

    TO THE CARAVAN....

Catenna has fallen in with Cyre. She rests a hand on his bicep, looking up at him with quiet worry in her face. "It feels like Lunar, yes. I can feel Celesdue very clearly here." The Owlet continues to sit in her other hand.

The little bird rotates her head towards Mariel again. <It feels like something awful could happen at any minute....>

With a purse of her lips, Catenna cradles the little white familiar close to herself. "We won't let that happen," she murmurs.

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

Jacqueline tries to take it easy as requested, but pretty much everyone who knows her knows she's terrible at taking it easy. She stumbles a little bit as she gets to her feet, then looks toward Prissa.

Prayer group? ...Well, she seemed to know what she was doing.

"Luca...I see..." Jacqueline murmurs. So, Prissa had only been here a few times...even so, it was far more times than any of them had been here, so it's best for her to take the lead now. "I guess it's our turn to be surprised now..."

Whatever she was about to say next is interrupted by a sudden sad Precis. Fighting back a wince from her sudden movement Jacqueline hurries over to her side, offering her a reassuring hand on her shoulder and a smile, weak as it is.

"H-hey, it's okay...we'll find a way back. I promise." She says, then looks toward Mariel. "Last time...last time we found a hidden Elw device, concealed deep within the ruins. So...I figure, that'll be our ticket back, too."

...Assuming there was something like that here. She chases those thoughts away. Some other thoughts, half-formed, foggy memories, try to assert themselves too, but she shakes her head to clear it.

Focus.

She looks toward Arleph with some concerns.

"U-Underwater!? Goodness, I'm glad you were able to make it back out..."

Prissa points out a gate and Jacqueline follows.

"Um...Praise Yevon...?" Jacqueline adds to Prissa's comment about the 'teachings', whatever those were.

She's blending in like a champ, really.

Thankfully, the Carakin is here - and so is someone else.

"Harken?" Jacqueline repeats, looking toward the man with the captain's cap. She's relieved that it isn't the former Quarter Knight, but instead someone who knows someone.

"She did...? I'm not sure how, but your presence is well-timed. We could use the help."

...And then, Ethius speaks. Commands, really. Jacqueline steps back, startled...but she's not as vulnerable to that as she was before.

"E-Ethius! Ethius, it's okay-" She says, trying to reason with him...but Cyre has the better idea, prompting Waffles to go say 'hi' to him.

With a sigh, Jacqueline takes the opportunity to unlock the vehicle and step inside, heading toward the cockpit.

"Everyone inside! We probably should get out of here...." She murmurs.

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

 
"Yevon is a religion," Prissa tells Kourin. "Like Granas, but shit. They think they are so great because they control the Farplane access, but I know they are just lucky. Pfhui." To Mariel, "It was cover only. You need not profess anything, if you look like a local and do not spit on Yevon there should be no problems, not for you."

A moment later, she takes a breath. "This is Spira," she says. "You are east of the... I cannot remember names, the places on Lunar. You know, Pendrago, Azado, those places."

Mariel has another couple of questions.

"For Beastmen... Ronso are the big tribe, there's also Hypello, but they need the wetlands so they don't socialize so much... Guado, I guess... myself, ha ha, in some way... As for returning, I will be damned if I know. I suppose we could try to get back to Azado."

She leans back against the Caravan as Tesni opens the door. She breathes out. "I should be clear," she says, "that this is not a different star from the Althena lands, it is just the other side of it. Like, you have your Arctica and your Ignas, right? Like that, though I guess it is further, and there is Sin..."

Ethius comes running. Prissa reaches into the Caravan, pulls out something on a strap, fastens it on her belt, and then flicks a sudden throwing knife towards Ethius's feet. (She aims six feet in front of him: he might trip on it but he will not be struck.) At this point Prissa sucks in a deep breath and shouts at him, "LISTEN UP, MONKEY BOY!"

Another dirk comes out in her hand. "You SIT DOWN and PUT THUMB IN YOUR MOUTH and WAIT FOR INSTRUCTION! You are on MY LAND now and you will say THANK YOU LADY PRISSA FOR HELPING ME NOT DIE, or I come to Farplane to show you my ass when Yevon kills you for sport!"

She puts the dirk back in its pouch.

"I am under stress," she says. (At this point Waffles attacks. "Good dog," Prissa informs the hound.) To Precis she says, "It is understandable. I think if it was done once it can be done again, but perhaps you must be patient, eh? No great thing was built in a day."

And then comes a wonder. Her eyes widen as an approaching man, who she had not been giving much mind because (if it came to that) they could have shanked him, reveals himself to be - a friend. "Uh!" Prissa says, in astonishment, perhaps joy.

"You see, fortune always comes in a blend," Prissa says, gesturing towards Harken (no relation, one assumes).

"Perhaps you have to get the wagon from the muck... if you operate the engine, it will be obvious it is machina but if it moves it away from sight... maybe do it at night?" Prissa muses at what Jay says, perhaps raising more questions along the way.

<Pose Tracker> Mariel has posed.

Mariel has no good answer for the Owlet. She wishes she did. Mostly she looks faintly distant for a while.

"But I do not look like a local," is Mariel's sensible response to Prissa. She's a *long* way from being a local, after all; if there are any dog or rabbit beastmen around she can probably pass without much attention being paid, but if all they have is Ronso and Guado... well, Mariel doesn't look a damn thing like either and there's nothing she can do about it.

At least there is one problem she can solve. "I can cook something," Mariel says to Lydia, in response to how do they eat. If the wagon is here, she can find something; they're not going to starve before they have money again, since they have all their supplies to sell.

That's right, Mariel thinks; they found an Elw machine in Azado. Well, if they do have another Elw machine here, at least Mariel is qualified to operate it. Maybe. She's qualified to *read* it, anyway, which is a start.

Mariel puts her head down to think - she still looks faintly distant, in a weird sort of way - before a) Ethius runs in, loud and strident, and b) Lydia's friend shows up. Neither of those are things she can deal with single-handedly - well, maybe Ethius. "Please stay still," she says, before hefting up her medicinal bag, which she still has on her.

Head wound? She can help with that, at least. "We can move the Caravan under cover of night; Prissa is correct." Though why do they need to move it at night? She didn't ask that part. Maybe she should have.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

"She figured you'd be the type to show up around trouble, that's all. And what's bigger trouble than a city eating whale?" The man who is not at all related to THAT Harken says. "Capital idea," He says. "You know that I couldn't get the Guard to hire us after that stunt you pulled with Red Priestess Mauri?"

It's at about this point that Prissa tells off Ethius. Lydia, in the background, says "daaaamn girl," in tiny comic font. That sounds more like 'impressed' than 'offended' because, well, sometimes you have to reel in your Ethius and Lydia sure wouldn't talk like that to Ethius barring extreme circumstances. Then again, she reflects, for Prissa this might be extreme circumstances. "It's true. She's from there so I guess she gets to be in charge for the moment. And it sounds like she knows how to avoid not being murdered by the locals, judging by her non-murdered self, so lets listen to her."

The Captain says, "Seems reasonable to me. Though speaking of fortune... Though it is in rough shape, if you wish I can offer you a place to stay on our ship the Azado Avenger. If you wish. After all, you technically bought it for us."

"I don't think it was--" Lydia begins.

"Was your money, anyway." He says. "Very helpful keeping the organizations seperate, not enough to placate the Guard enough to hire us--we had to, mm, follow their armada--but enough so that we can operate. I'm sure you had your reasons. Once we get moving I can lead you to the ship. If that's acceptable to you, ma'am?"

He looks towards Jay expectantly.

<Pose Tracker> Ethius Hesiod has posed.

    The most immediate problem (which is Ethius) is quickly addressed a few times over. A knife sticks right in front of his boot. He trips as expected, but catches himself with one hand on a frame, the other against the ground as his knee hits the bottom with a loud 'thud.' Waffles comes in with the assist, smothering the man like a way a dire wolf is good at smothering things. Almost all of his fight is taken on the spot, the floor held onto by Prissa - as is rightful, as she lays out in no uncertain terms whose turf it is, who is best qualified to make the calls.
     He may never actually 'calm down,' but he is held captive by Waffles who only wants to show him love as Mariel goes to tend to his wounds. The unfolding discussions should bring him some form of relief - there is a reasonable plan being discussed. There is another who addresses him as 'friend kidnapper' which is totally a true thing and... well, for the most part, minus putting a literal thumb inside his mouth (he does have one, despite his attempts to hide its existence, and it doesn't even have the courtesy to be anything exotic among mouths - under the face covering he is literally Just A Dude).
     ...
     "...The Guard is here...?" He asks, not quite reclaiming the usual Ethius stoic tone, trying to follow the man who bears no relation to Harken. Is he worried? It's hard to say. Also it's hard to hear because Waffles is muffling his face as if to say 'shh, shhh.'

<Pose Tracker> Precis F. Neumann has posed.

Precis lowers her welding glasses over her eyes and gives Jaqueline a quick hug when she gets patted on her shoulder. "O-okay, but I think my old man is going to be worried sick when he doesn't hear from me." She replies before looking to Prissa and nodding. It wasn't very comforting information, but at least they were treating her like and adult and not sugar-coating things too much. Even if did stink to hear it. The whole appearance of even more people that Precis doesn't know very well as well as whatever was going between Prissa and Ethius has Precis looking a little worried. "I think, I think I'm going to go check on Cara then. " She replies before attempting a hasty retreat.

<Pose Tracker> Arleph Ardan has posed.

 There's a lot of things happening at once, to be fair and Arleph is still working somewhat on automatic at the moment.
 
 "You know what." Arleph lets out, witnessing Prissa's display and very much 'in control' attitude, "Let's just get the hell outta here, then we can talk... more?"

<Pose Tracker> Tesni Inoue has posed.

Tesni Inoue finds out more from Prissa it's useful information to know.

 "Sin? If there are people there is some form of sin about." Tess doesn't quite get the idea a horrible Kaiju roams about and likely would need orbital bombardment to stop. It's for the best right now as she looks to what happens with Ethius stares and Preiss has earned some very serious points there. She is right about them getting got move out though. The idea of moving it at night sounds like a plan.

 "That is a good idea, and I for one Am thankful we have someone who knows the lay of the land well."

 Given miss space woman would likely run into trouble with Yevon very fast if she was utterly ignorant of things. Also memories of her first weeks on Falgaia pop into her head.

 "If we do? "let us not be reckless about it huh?"

 She notes but she will be in and securing herself either way to a seat.

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

Yevon is a religion...? And they control the Farplane, whatever that is...? Jacqueline keeps that in mind, as well as what Prissa says of where they are - Spira, east of the other landmasses of Lunar.

Jacqueline frowns. They were so far away...

But she puts on a brave face, returning Precis's hug with a quick one of her own.

"I'm sorry. I'll take full responsibility when we get back, okay? Hopefully this won't be a long visit..." Jacqueline replies.

A short time later, Jacqueline is trying to make for the Carakin's controls when Prissa stops Ethius, shouting - Jacqueline pauses in her tracks, her face going pale.

"Y-you're right, Prissa. Sorry, I panicked a little." Jacqueline admits as her friend suggests to do it at night, backing away from the vehicle.

She sighs a little as Harken brings up the whale, and the...incident, with Mauri.

"...She knows us far too well." Jacqueline says. "...I'm not proud of what happened with Mauri. But we didn't have a choice." She mutters, shaking her head. She looks on with interest, then, as the Captain suggests staying on their ship.

"O-oh no, I couldn't impose, really...it seems we've caused enough problems already..." Jacqueline says, shaking her head. "We'll figure something out."

...She looks toward the Carakin, then. ...Staying there until nightfall might be a little rough.

"...B-but, I guess it might be nice to have a place to stay until it gets dark..." She considers, then looks around at the others. "What do you think, everyone?"

Precis decides she wants to check on the vehicle, and Jacqueline nods.

"Good idea...there's no telling what condition it's in. Do you think your Bobots would be able to pull it out of the mud?" She asks. Using machina to solve a problem based around, well, people afraid of machina, might not be her best idea, but it would put them closer to being able to leave when they got back to it.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

Catenna and the Owlet both listen keenly as Prissa explains the nature of Yevon, and about Spira. The little familiar in the Moon Shaman's hands tilts her head to one side.

'and there is Sin'

Saarda-Shanta immediately ducks her head and rocks back and forth in Catenna's hands with obvious distress. <We have to leave as soon as possible! We are all in grave danger so long as that thing is still alive-->

Both Catenna and Saarda-Shanta stop short and stare in nothing less than awe as Prissa jerks Ethius up by his proverbial chain and decides right then and there that his Cryptic Lump Shit will not fly today. The Moon Shaman's mouth hangs open just slightly.

She closes it, frowning and looking down towards the small bird in her hands. As fun as seeing Ethius jerked up short is, there are more pressing matters to consider.

"Prissa," she asks quietly, "is this where Sin comes from, then...? Should we expect to encounter it here?"

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

Kourin simply nods at Prissa's response to Ethius. She's faced the man down and told him no in no uncertain terms herself before. She likes Ethius, but sometimes what is necessary is what is necessary.

<Pose Tracker> Arleph Ardan has posed.

 "I'll... help to pull it out of the mud, if you do, Precis." Arleph comments, pulling out further seaweed out of his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He snaps himself a finger.
 
 "As for being here," Arleph adds, in Prissa's direction, his voice growing lower. "Do you know any place that would be quieter for us to go, then, to get our bearings?"

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

"Catenna!" Cyre chirps as Waffles takes care of the impending Ethiuspocalypse. "I'm glad you're alright. It wouldn't be a proper moon journey if you weren't around," he chuckles, politely looking away as Prissa finishes man-handling the party lump, "Though I wouldn't have minded having to track down another illegal dance troupe if that's what it would've taken." Still, having everyone together like this is largely a superior arrangement overall.

Though... Hm. Where's Matilda...?

Once the kerfluffle at the Carakin is taken care of, Cyre does give Prissa a look. One that bounces between the native and the tiny owlet. Hm. Best... to keep away from that topic, at least for a little bit. "...I heard something about a summoner," Cyre says, crossing his arms across his chest. "So, what, do they actually worship the Guardians up here? Is that what that Yevon group is all about, or do we have somethin' else besides the Guard to worry about?"

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

 
"True... I do not have a good guide," Prissa tells Mariel. "But I think we are not the only arrivals. They do not have the prejudice for Beastmen here that they do in Filgaia."

She tilts her head down, lips pursing. It seems that hollering at Ethius did not bring her any joy. She straightens upwards, tossing the hair that has been in braids for years again. It really looks like it ought to be in braids, and by that we mean, true believers, that it is trying to fall back into the braids again.

She looks towards Lydia then, and says with a huff, "I do not want to assume command but if I stand there when you fall into a well you did not see but I did, then who is the evil one? Anyway, you want to do it at night so people will watch less. The Carakin, all your ARMs, here they are 'machina'. Yevon forbids machina except when they make up some nonsense excuse, so keep it on the - the - low down, right?"

She gestures. "Right now this is only a big strange wagon. When it moves with the lightning drive, THEN it is obviously machina. You get me?" The topic of bobots come up, and Prissa seems to weigh it. "Wait for night, or at least twilight, but if it works then, then it works, yah."

To Jay, Prissa says, a little hesitantly, "What you should do... What I think you should do, is you should park the caravan. If we guide it to a travel agency we should be alright. The man who owns the big networks is one of my people. He will probably not rip you off too bad."

Then she looks at Catenna.

Prissa's brow knits. She looks back to Lydia and to Harken. Her arms fold. She raises one hand to her chin.

A thought seems to come to her. A dawning realization.

"I do not follow their faith," she tells Cyre. "But it isn't your Guardians. If the Guard was able to cross the sea, then that is a good sign, isn't it?"

"Well," she says to Catenna: "Eventually, yes; Sin always comes back, but if a summoner beat it then it could be years until such. By then you would want to get back to Filgaia, hey?"

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

"The Guard is here," Captain Harken tells Ethius. "Ah I suppose you wouldn't have heard. After Sin destroyed Azado, the Goddess blamed Spiran heathens for it and called for a crusade...though I admit, the fact that Sin seems quite willing to tear apart the lands here is concerning. The Guard hasn't started a fight yet, but they may just be getting a feel for the land before drawing their blades. And you may be grateful for the ship when they make that decision considering you currently have a bounty owned by them. I cannot outrun their vessels but I may be able to evade them."

He looks to Jay. "Regrets, aye, I've a few. But I don't think the Guard's going to listen to that. It is no imposition. Don't 'polite' yourself to death. The Kinship Alliance isn't yours on paper, but it is yours to use. 'Least so far as I'm running things 'round here, being the top ranking representative."

"So we can't get around on the Caravan either. During the day. Because we'd get murdered by cultists." Lydia says. "And also I have to pretend this is armor. And...Yes, we should not fall into any wells."

"We can't transport the Caravan itself," The captain points out. "But perhaps one group can move the Caravan and I can guide the ship to meet up at this 'travel agency' with the others so as to keep things...subtle." The captain says. "I don't suppose your friend could use a ship, Prissa?"

"Woof." Lydia says, looking back to Jay, then to Prissa. "Well... thanks for looking out for us, Pris." She smiles a tired smile. "Sorry I'm not more helpful myself right now."

<Pose Tracker> Precis F. Neumann has posed.

Precis ducks around the corner which allows her to sink down to her knees and take a moment for herself. She hugs her knees to herself as she ponders Jaqueline's query. "Maybe not directly. But they could..." A pause. "...dig out underneath the wheels so we can place planks or something to drive up onto." She reaches back now and activates her bobots which soon run off to go perform status checks on the vehicle itself, leaving the mechanic by herself for the moment.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"I'm not sure dancing is illegal here," Catenna murmurs as an aside to Cyre. "I have not seen any Goddess Statues or clergy of Althena."

It had better not be illegal: Catenna's outfit is not only a takeoff of something she saw people in Luca wearing, it takes a lot from the outfits she wore on Lunar the first time around.

The talk of machina leaves her frowning. Thumbs absently moving across the Owlet's back to stroke the tiny, nervous Totem Bird, Catenna looks towards the CaraKin with a soft rush of breath through her nose. "...I wonder if it would be possible to have it drawn by some sort of beast of burden. Horses, or oxen. If there are oxen here, anyway...."

But the most pressing question is coming. Taking a couple of steps forward, Catenna frowns - and Saarda-Shanta ducks her head again, practically balling herself up in Catenna's hands.

<Yes, I want to get back to Filgaia. Preferably soon,> the Owlet insists with an anxious wobble.

Catenna bites firmly down to her lower lip. "It will be alright," she assures the tiny familiar. "I will not let anything happen to you."

When she looks up again, her eyes find Prissa. "I'd like to hear more about Summoners. I was asked if I was one...." She furrows her brows. "...What Shamans do can be described as a form of summoning. We call the Guardians into physical form for just a moment. If that is liable to get us mistaken for whatever a Summoner is here, and if that would put us in a situation where we are expected to battle Sin...."

<Worst idea,> the Owlet interjects emphatically.

<Pose Tracker> Ethius Hesiod has posed.

    The strange man damn crazy fool latest victim of Waffles' affections starts to approach something resembling his 'norm,' to the extent anything about this bizarre man can ever deserve to come enjoy a backyard BBQ at the home of 'norm.' His breathing quiets. It might be a momentary scare for anyone seeing to him, but before now (and other select circumstances) he has been eerily good at just suppressing the idle tics of a living body.
     This should not be mistaken for being calm. A part of him will reflect, later, that it would be logical to have consulted with Prissa to start if time and space were cooperative as regards to where and how they ended up where they did.
     ...And yet, some element of it feels entirely foreign to him. Unheard of, like a sequence of events that just transpired... hasn't before? Shouldn't?
     ...
     His questions about the Guard presence are addressed. A 'crusade,' then... and a slip that this 'Sin' can - and has - been defeated prior. Is this the first time a 'Sin' showed up... outside? Why? He can't quite voice them, between Mariel seeing to his head wound and Waffles helping. (Not even quotation marks, Waffle is helping! He's a good boy.)
     (Except when Ethius wants to talk.)
     (That's why he's a gooder boy... er.)
     His gaze doesn't meet anyone in particular's. He can't put a hand to his head because MAriel's working on it. He has to put his hand on Waffle's head instead, which fails miserably because Waffles is now slobbering it to weth. (that is a thing now)
     ...

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

Prissa offers some advice and Jacqueline takes it into consideration. After a moment, she nods.

"That's a good idea...I'll want to know more about him later, but we can work out the details later." Jacqueline replies. She'd need to know who she was dealing with, just so that she'd be able to get the best deal.

She frowns, though, as Captain Harken explains a little bit about the Guard's purpose here. She didn't like that.

She shakes her head, then.

"We'll figure something out. We survived on Meribus, and we'll survive here, too. Last time, we only got in trouble because one of the Guard's higher-ups was threatening Filgaia's safety." She says, then sends Precis a smile.

"That sounds like a good plan to me! That'd get us somewhere, certainly." She agrees, then looks toward Catenna.

Having something to pull it...she frowns, then looks toward Prissa.

"You mentioned something like that before, I think... Some manner of large, horse-like bird? Do you think one of those might be able to help us?" She asks. "...And, admittedly, I'll need a way to transport my wares even after we get the Carakin situated, so if we could acquire one of those somehow..."

<Pose Tracker> Tesni Inoue has posed.

Tesni Inoue says "I'd say wait till night if we're to use the Robots err Bobots. Waiting for nightfall now that I think on it for a moment. I do think it is a good idea. We can give it a look over for reparis too if it's needed. Afraid of machines."

 That would make Tes a demon from the depths of machine hell given where she's from. A Machinabus? She tosss that notion realy quick.

 "So just what is the farplane. I'll lend a hand with any thing we need to do to get rolling."

 She looks to Prissa.

 "So afraid of thart sort of thing?"

 Yup she's totally a machina deamnon to Yevon.

 "I am starting to understand why the curse of may you live in interesting times is so terrible."

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

 
Prissa dips her head. "You are all inspirational," she answers Lydia. "I would not want this cast of characters to come to harm, not in Spira. I cannot guarantee safety but I can do what I can." She straightens up then, and purses her lips.

"I do not think the travel agency is near to the water, but you could no doubt send a people ahead," Prissa muses. To Harken, she says, "He is not my friend. In fact he will probably be pissed off at me. I missed my start date... but I have good reason, eh? You will all back me up?"

"Good plan," she tells Precis. To Catenna, she says, "I would tell you more but I do not know much. You know how I do not speak your language perfectly? I did not grow up speaking it at all. There are no summoners in Bikanel or our islands."

Then to Jay. Prissa scratches her chin. "Chocobo... yes, you could buy chocobos. But for the wagon you would need at least two draft birds, and four might be better. That won't be cheap. A chocobo is a valuable asset."

To Tesni, she says, "It's where dead people go when they die, or something. I do not know. It is just a place you can visit from the Guado tribe's town. Best to avoid it, I would say."

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"You have told us so much already," Catenna assures Prissa with a small, grateful smile. "Thank you for guiding us here so far. If I do anything too silly, please. tell me so."

Carefully, Catenna moves Saarda-Shanta back to her shoulder. The Owlet hunkers there, bunched up visibly and glancing about, then looking up towards the distant shape of Filgaia.

"...Let's take stock of things inside," she recommends, her voice a little quieter. "I think we will have to make some decisions... and the first one will be getting us all outfits that blend into the population of Luca."

Catenna makes a point to get Carina to help. Carina is, after all, always helpful.

<Pose Tracker> Arleph Ardan has posed.

"Hold on, hold on," Arleph lets up, finnally free of weed off his long hair and currently struggling with another small crab that seems to have taken up residence in his hat. His hands seems to be vexing the tiny little crab, his snipping little claws snapping at the empty air away from his gloved hands.
 
 "You're telling me the dead have a physical place you can go to see and is pointedly exists?"

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"When you think about it, that is what a graveyard is," Catenna points out with a blink towards Arleph. "Or a necropolis for that matter."

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

 
"... Yes?" Prissa tells Arleph. "Is this new information for you all?"

<Pose Tracker> Arleph Ardan has posed.

 Arleph blinks, furrowing his brows, fingers wriggling to get an opening to get the tiny crab out.
 
 "Right. A graveyard. Okay. For some reason, I thought that's where spirits went, hahahah. Of course. Just like a graveyard."

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

 
"Oh, yes, it is that thing, the spirits or minds or whatever," Prissa confirms.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

Catenna frowns and looks at the Owlet. "...Is that how dying works? Is there a physical place that dead people go to?"

Saarda-Shanta bobs her head slightly. <Ask the next owl you see who is also Ge Ramtos. As for how it works in Spira, your friendly neighbourhood Prissa knows more than I do.>

<Pose Tracker> Arleph Ardan has posed.

 Arleph gives Prissa the surprised look of a man dulled by years of hearing, seeing and doing some very crazy things that he no longer thought possible but it still remains, to this day, always as crazy to hear and learn.
 
 "I see." Ardan simply says, before snapping out a curse as the crab grabs hold of one of his fingers.

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

"...So it's like a Xibalba," Cyre considers, expression contemplative. "Except... for everyone in Spira? That place must be huge."

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

"We couldn't do this without you, Prissa. Your help has been invaluable, we would've been so lost without it..." Jacqueline says gratefully. Sure, she didn't know everything, but it was better than the nothing they knew.

Prissa also fills her in on the chocobo issue. They'd need two through four, but...that'd be expensive. And since their money was currently useless, it'd be hard to afford that.

"Hmm...if we run the motor at lower power, and if Lydia or Precis can invent something to muffle the sound, then maybe we can do it with just one..." She considers. "At least until we can afford more. We need to focus on our living situation first."

As Catenna states. And then there's the question of the Farplane. Jacqueline blinks, and for a moment this surprises her...until Cyre reminds of her Xibalba.

"...True. One of them even came with me." Jacqueline says. She draws a sphere from her belongings and raises it up

It bounces a little in greeting.

She hadn't forgotten about it, she just hadn't really had a use for it so far.

<Pose Tracker> Tesni Inoue has posed.

Tesni Inoue pauses at this. "Where the dead go?" She gets real quiet for a moment and then looks to Arleph for a moment. "I guess we'll see at some point."

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

LYDIA IN THE FUTURE

Totally not changing out of her cool digs yet or obscuring them in any way.

LYDIA NOW

She is also frowning at the idea of the Guard getting into a war with Spira. She knows what side she'd pick between the two but honestly, she'd rather be on neither. Margaret is great and wonderful but crusaders are dumb and stupid. Even if it's against one that hates tech for some baffling reason she has yet to actually hear.

"Heh. Horse-like bird." Is what she actually ends up saying.

"Then that is what we shall do," The captain tells Prissa. "And I'm certain we can vouch for you, though they do not seem to take our coin here."

"Aw come on! I have to start over? Again!!" Lydia complains. She does smile, though, cheeks silvering faintly at the Prissa's compliment. "Eheh...well... I appreciate it. And, um, I wouldn't want anything happening to you either. Otherwise I'd have to give you a hard time at your bedside!"