"So what are you travelling for, anyhow, Jeanne?" Michael took another gulp of dirtwater. The glass was barely half empty but he still didn' want anymore. He left it on the table and waited to recover from its detestable taste.
He gave more thought towards Bella and Lev. He had a feeling that the girl would react to his association somehow, but he didn't know if it was going to be good or bad for his causes. However, the more he thought of the girl, the more he thought of his past, and he didn't want to think of his past anymore until it was absolutely neccesary.
He took a large gulp of the dirtwater, emptying half of the contents into is throat.

Shealtiel watches Dante's antics with veiled eyes. That the man can go from... this to murderous fury is troublesome. Not that Shealtiel hasn't grown used to humanity's savagery in the past three decades, but to see it so brazenly juxtaposed with this almost child-like nonchalance is... as he mentioned before, psychopathic. Likely, the man sees no conflict between these two facets of his behavior.

Of course, the other man, Lev, is much more worrying. In their time together, Shealtiel hasn't been able to figure out if his seeming bestial disposition is the result of some inherent personality flaw, the backlash of an apocalyptic upbringing, or the manifestation of something altogether more sinister. If he has to agree with Dante on something, it is that they would all do well to stay away from the gunman from Tsavo.

He is content to remain in Michael's company for the time being, though he is certain the young man is holding back information from them all. Still, he seems to be in possession of a combination of survival skills and human decency that is surpassingly rare in the world they inhabit. He will make a fitting companion, for the time being, at least.

Hearing obnoxiously loud laughter coming from Rue's bathing room, Lev immediately sprung in to action. Revolver and knife were instantly in his hands as he moved, flying out of his room and barreling through the doorway that led in to Rue's. He looked around quickly, still on high alert for the moment. After a while he raised an eyebrow, giving her a quizzical look.

"Everything. Is okay, yes?"

"Clothing, right."

He turned, leaving the room. His heart was racing from a combat high that had never came to actually be. Back in his own bathing room, he got dressed as quickly as he could. After throwing his tattered jacket over his body, he began to rummage through his pockets, taking stock on how much ammunition he had. By running his hand through clumps of small caliber ammunition, he knew he had plenty to feed his revolver. However, he was going to be in for a long journey. He was going to need heavier munitions, no matter where he was going. His submachine gun had done well for him, but being able to remove targets from range was going to be an advantage once they left the confines of the city. After running through a list of weapons he knew of, and how likely they would be to find them in Corinth, he strode back in to Rue's room.

He caught her only partially dressed, speaking again in his flat voice.

"I need Mosin-Nagant. M19/30 if possible. I need other guns. Lots of ammunition. And will need lots of water."

A chill came over Michael as he finished the last of his drink. He would grab another if he didn't know the effects on his psychic block that the second drink would have. He decided to stay sober.
Looking to the stairs leading to the rooms of the tavern, he saw the silhouettes of two hooded figures, yet again.
After shaking his head out, Michael looked again and they were gone.
"I really hope that I'm not just intoxicated right now."

Jeanne thought for a moment, eventually responding. "It seemed the right thing to do." The town she had grown up in could no longer offer her anything, and with her brother having left the previous year, it seemed only natural to leave. After all, in her community, her skills had been redundant.

Jeanne took another sip at Michael turned his head. "Something wrong?" she asked

He nodded, leaving her to her own devices as he left the bathhouse. He strode through the city, hunting for everything on his checklist. Within an hour he had sought out and found everything he was looking for. The first things he acquired was, obviously, guns. Getting what he wanted was going to be costly, but not as costly as it would have been without his 'negotiating' skills. His demeanor and coin had earned him a weathered Mosin-Nagant slung across his back and a TT-33 Tokarev pistol strapped to his left leg. The submachine gun that had walked in to hell with him, the PPsh-41, still fastened itself to his right leg with dog collars. Several smaller handguns hid in his many pockets and hideaways, with lavish amounts of ammunition to feed them making him a walking armory. On his battered belt loops hung a single grenade, decades old and looking as if its moment of glory had long been over. Weighed down with the consequences of a lighter pocket, he made his way back in to the main stretch of Corinth. He had assumed he would be meeting back up with the girl soon, and the group he ran in to had originally been at a tavern. Trying to find them both in the same place, he began visiting establishments, giving a quick survey of each one before ducking out again. It took him four tries to find the correct one, spotting the two women, the two men, and the Meat. You tasted his flesh once. Tasted it! Consumed it. Broken down, became fuel for us! He is a part of you now! Consume the rest, like all the others! Consume the rest!

He waved a hand near his ear, dismissing something he thought he heard as he walked towards the group. He stood over them for a moment, assessing their faces before speaking.

"Am I interrupt? Looking for girl. Not here for group."

Feenai had just finished her third tankard of mead when the familiar pain of the not-so-injured man assaulted her mind and shields. She looked up at him, worried that Ruebella was right behind him. Then he asked his question and the worry shifted to what Dante would do to him. She slid out of her chair and walked away from the rest of them, beckoning for the man to follow.

Once they were a few steps away, she said in a low tone, "Your employer is not here, but I'm glad I got to see you. I think that perhaps...something is consuming your mind partly. I feel a lot of pain coming off you, and I wondered if there would be something I could do to help?"

Lev gave the woman a quizzical look. He studied her for a moment, wondering if there was something in particular she was after. After hearing that she was sensing pain from him, he gave an almost-smirk.

"I experience pain. I get shot. Stabbed. Beaten. Broken, sometimes broken open. In Tsavo, I was crucified. Very painful, do not try. But I survive these things, because that is me. Now, you maybe talk about...things. Things I say earlier. I apologize. I was hungry. Was joke."

Her flesh...she REEKS of innocence! Pure! Flesh has not been ravaged! Never been tasted! Taken! This body is weak. We need sustenance! Do you want to be human? You are what you eat, but if eating humans makes you a monster what are you? WHAT ARE YOU?!

Lev paused a moment, turning his head back towards the door as if he had heard something. He turned back to the girl, resuming his conversation.

"I no know what you mean 'consume my mind'. I feel okey. You welcome to help, if need is there. But I possess no damage now."

Meanwhile, Dante, back at the table, gripped the counter hard, gritted his teeth, and tossed down his third Madras. Of. All. The. People. Who could show up! He growled, and, perhaps partly because of the alcohol, tossed the coinbag to Michael.

"I'll...be outside...if you want to find me. Roof. Don't wanna see that guy."

Lev turned his head when Rue had entered the building, watching her with the eyes of a predator. Letting her situate herself, he held up a hand to excuse himself from Feenai so he could slink his way towards his employer. He stared in to Rue's eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to find something. His hard glare was unrelenting, the cogs in his mind calculating something. He spoke in a hushed tone, as if it would keep everyone from knowing that he was loaded down with weapons.

"I ready. We are ready?"

Slinking across the gunman's line of vision, Dante kicked the door open and climbed a windowsill, nearly falling in the process, then lay spread-eagle on the flat roof. If he was going to stay close to the girl, he would have to put up with the man...

Then he realized something. The man's aura had grown since he had first met him. It was...eviler? Brighter? Something like that. And the footsteps were different. Sounds like he's carrying something...heavier.