Feenai took her new equipment and wondered how in the world stuff so small could be so...heavy. Seeing that Ruebella had picked out some fancy sword, she changed her mind on the psychic flail entirely and gave it back when they had brought out the gear she had asked for. She found a piece of rope to use as a belt of sorts, and clamped all eight grenades to it. The submachine gun had a strap on it so she slung that over her shoulder, and clamped the extra magazines to that. She didn't even know where to put the weapon-grade lasers. I'm never going to be able to carry all this... She sighed inwardly and walked over to Jeanne.

"I'm really sorry for picking up on your thoughts like that," Feenai whispered to her, "but when we leave town you should try sensing for the swords that the Saint had, when he fought out there. Maybe we can find them and return them, so it won't feel so much like we're stealing? Also, why don't you take one of these lasers in exchange for the one you have? It could be useful...considering where all these people want to go."

"Touching, truly," Shealtiel says from where he is perched against the Armory wall. "Though, I must admit, Lev, I find the subject of just what would happen upon your corporeal demise eminently fascinating. Souls are such unpredictable things, when freed from their housing, and yours..." He trails off, his hooded gaze studying the man of Tsavo. His cane taps rhythmically on the wall behind him.

With great effort he stood up, ignoring the pain in his body. He looked between the old man and the privileged girl, gritting his teeth. After a moment he took a few steps to retrieve his gun, shoving back in to one of his many pockets.

"I don't know what takes to repulse demon. I am on cross, dying. I think I died. Before I die, I hear whisper. Then, I feel lightning. I awake, and I am off cross. And...and there are so many blanks! Gaps! What point of life if there is nothing to remember? My body is slave, but mind is molested, is...is..."

He stopped, trying to collect himself. He raised his eyes again, staring at Rue. Straightening his stance, he addressed her directly with the original composure he had possessed when he found her.

"I am Lev Gurevich, Lev of Tsavo. My life is forfeit, but it still can be put to use."

An arrow thudded into the wall a few inches away from Lev's neck. "Lev...I finally know you name," muttered Dante as he showed himself from behind a nearby building. "...Testing its accuracy," he replied to the looks thrown at him. "I haven't used a bow in quite a few years, but I can assure you, Lion of Tsavo, that I can end your life if that's what you want."

He raged briefly to himself on the implications of Rue and Lev being even a pretend couple, and tried to dismiss the thought.

"Ah...I'll be needing the arrow back. Ever so sorry about that." He yanked the arrow from the wall and replaced it in his quiver.

Moving to follow her with a still-surprising energy in his steps, Shealtiel says from behind her, "Speaking of theatrics, my dear, is this really necessary? Who, exactly, are you trying to impress? You're skilled, prodigious even, but if you set out alone... you can't actually believe you would survive long, can you? I know the Whore casts a spell over Babylon that swells the ego of everyone living there -- likely some kind of empathetic psychic bleeding, if we want to be academic about it -- but this is really quite absurd." He admits, inwardly, that an hour ago, he would not have spoken such words, but the energy filling him makes him bold.

Jeanne was startled by Fee's arrival, but not overly worried about her reading surface thoughts. She agreed with finding the Wrath swords, but didn't mention that part; if Fee knew her surface thoughts, she would know her interest. Instead, she nodded slowly, fingering the laser. It had been a gift from her family, but it was true that a weapons-grade laser would be more useful.

Jeanne made her way to the Captain. "Excuse me, but do you have a weapons-grade laser?" she asked. It seemed that he did, as an underling brought one to the theurge shortly thereafter. "Thank -" she began, but he was already gone.

The laser was heavier than her other, probably due to the battery. She found a spot for it on her belt next to her family's laser, which Jeanne took into her hand. Rolling it around, she had to admit that she wasn't ready to give it away.

Michael returned with the interdiction badge after thanking the Artificer named Alain. After he turned over a badge from the hundred placed on a rack, Alain began to question Michael with the validity of the story he provided.
"Mr. Hadyn, I'm not quite sure that these are people who you would keep as company. Even though they are skilled, they are a bit...violent."
"Which is exactly why I'm staying with them. There's more controversy against my research than there is support. If I want to stay safe, than I need to integrate myself with a group that won't be suspicious of my work, or who won't stop me once I get what I need," Michael whispered to the man before grabbing the badge and thanking the man.
He walked back to the group that was nearly in conflict and attempted to intervened before things got out hand.
"So then, my friends. Are we ready to leave?"

Ugh. These arrows are so damn hard to see...Might have to dissolve a few Capsules for aura, Dante thought to himself. He couldn't travel with several quivers on his back, and his bike would provide the perfect storage space...

"Anyone care to lead me back to the tavern? I need to retrieve my motorcycle before a fellow thief decides to sell it," he asked, somewhat anxious to make a getaway before the captain noticed that his belt was much lighter than it had been.

Kicking off from the wall with the verve of a man half his age, Shealtiel volunteers. "Certainly, Lucifer. Follow me. Call it a guess, but you can see me the most clearly, can't you?" He snaps up his can and points to the others. "As for the rest of you, perhaps it might be expedient to speak with the Captain about the possibility of divesting him of one of his beloved vehicles? If we were truly the brigands we affect, we would demand air transportation, but I don't think I would go quite that far."

He sets off back to the tavern, assuming Dante is competent enough to follow him.

Dante stifled a growl at the throwing-around of his first name, and corrected the old man. "Rue's is about as blindingly bright as yours. And speaking of air transportation...Would they happen to have some solar wings? Not that I need them, of course," he hastily added.

My time, Lev.

Lev slunk behind Dante, leaning extremely close to his back. He opened his mouth, growling softly as he gently brushed his canines across the skin of his neck.

"And mine is dark, and you'll never see it coming. And then I'll finish the meal I started, Meat."

He took off, jerking a tooth across Dante's neck. He left a faint trail of blood behind, marking his prey.

Returning to Rue, he grinned at her wildly as he spoke, his speech not matching his expression.

"I had to sleep. Keeping this body alive is taxing at best. Are we on our way?"

Dante barely resisted flinching as he felt Lev...no, the lion...lean close...

He couldn't stop himself from inhaling sharply as the canine grazed his skin. The demon was right. He'd seen the black aura when it was mixed in with Lev's, but, by itself...it was invisible to him. It had been invisible just now.

He raised a hand to pull down the front of his scarf, lifting up the back to cover his neck. My...weakness...? I can't see there...neither can I sense anything if he came from in front, either... A brief shiver ran down his spine before he realized he'd stopped in his tracks and his hands were covered in sweat. Cold sweat. Maybe I was too arrogant... he thought to himself as he started off again after the old man.

After taking a few steps, Feenai realized that she'd never be able to walk long distances carrying all this equipment, let alone actually be in any shape to do something if something were to happen. Everyone else was getting ready to go so she quickly jogged back up to the captain. "Sir, I know that we have asked a lot of you, and I deeply appreciate all you have done for us. However, we have a long journey ahead of us and if we could have a convoy jeep, or perhaps a van, to travel in, I know I would be grateful." She was panting slightly at the end of this, because the gear she was carrying was rather heavy for her slight frame. Since this was somewhat important, she also sent a small feeling of her own helplessness into the captain's mind, though doing so made her feel dirty again. I either need to learn how to feel better about that or STOP doing it.

As they walk back to the tavern, Shealtiel looks sidelong over at Dante. "So, did your parents actually name you Lucifer? And if so, I question, was the inspiration the most glorious of angels, or a seditious rebel high on his splendor? I do what wonder whatever happened to him. If he survived the Eschaton, he hasn't announced it to anyone. Maybe he went crawling back to Empyrean to play pretend on the Throne." It becomes apparent to Dante after a moment that Shealtiel isn't actually talking to him anymore.