[open] Probably not too bad.

[convictionary]

Who: Gaius and various other people are doing supply runs! Yeah!
When: Ambiguously timed supply shit going on over, let's say, the past four days (so 4/10 to 4/14)!
Where: In the middle of nowhere!
What: There's supply transporting up the yin yang over here!
Rating: None, but it might end up raunchy for all I know! I don't know why I went with the exclamation points but it felt right!

A:

So, what do you think? [Muttered. In case the hero next to him didn't get what Gaius meant a head was inclined towards their employer, Constance, who was fluttering about like a Canadian goose: nasty, vicious, and loud.]

B:

[And that was when Gaius turned to the person next to him and asked:] So, you got any idea where we are?

[A dark wind was starting to howl, with the promise of weather that wasn't quite a storm, but it would still be unpleasant.]

C:

[There had been a dramatic fight between them and bandits which was very heroic and dramatic. It was so fucking badass. I mean, seriously. Everyone did all sorts of cool shit, even the bandits, and this would go on describing that wonder and glory but...look, it would just be intimidating if it did. Just believe in it being heroic.

...]

How much we getting paid, again?

D:

[As a dying on the inside looking Gaius tore into that custard he looked at whatever poor son of a bitch was his dessert partner.] How'd your day go?

[He's kind of dying on the inside right now.]

Comments

D

[hoasen]

[She's just watching him after this and wondering what exactly did he endure.]

Strangely well...how did yours...?

[Because he looks like he's dying on the inside right now, and she's waving someone over to get him more cake.]

[convictionary]

[He dramatically and solemnly puts down his spoon mid-custard and looks at her with a bleak expression, the expression of the damned.]

Listen. [...oh thank the gods there's a second slice of emergency cake coming. ... If he was a slightly different man this would be the point in which he'd tear up a little.

He doesn't.

But in the bleak empty howling abyss that is his soul he's a little bit touched.]

There were sheep and rain.

[hoasen]

[Gaius looks like he just went through hell. This is exactly why he needs more cake. Cake would make everything better, and Gaius sure loved his cake.

Now, sheep and rain?]

...That sounds it would smell a lot.

[..IT WOULD.]

[convictionary]

It did. And you know what else?

[There's a dramatic pause as he reached for the cake with a spoon (with custard) in his mouth. It technically wasn't a pause as he said what else, but it came out muffled, and so after a swallow-]

Sheep don't move that fast, lady, unless they got a reason.

[hoasen]

[She listens very carefully, leaning in to hear what he's going to say. What is this dramatic pause for?

...it just leads to another question she really wants to ask.]

What is this reason? What was happening?

B

[memoryslain]

[ Give him a moment!! He's looking over the map... It was a shitty map. None of these landmarks lined up, and the distance between things keeps changing— inconsistency is what gets travelers killed. That storm rolling in off the horizon is what will get them killed, and Noir rolls the parchment back up with a decisive movement to tuck it away for good. It wasn't going to help them anymore. ]

Well, we're somewhere between the river and the beach, but none of the landmarks here are matching up. Looks like it might be best to find some shelter instead of giving up; any caves or overhangs will likely have plenty of mushrooms to keep us busy while the storm passes.

[ They're in the heart of the forest still lively with elven magic, after all. The directions are thrown off with the ocean wind blowing in nearly each way so one can't check the moss on the trees, but so far all they have to show for their efforts is a small bag of nuts, a gently-wrapped container of berries, and some crudely fashioned fishing rods some of the local farmers lent them.

They had yet to stumble on any forthcoming fairies. Or any fairies at all, for that matter. Perhaps it's because they were eating most of what they were gathering. ]

Should we head back to the river?

[convictionary]

[. . . . . . . . .

He was going to die out here. But okay, gameface.]

Sounds good to me. [Snorts.] Maybe we can find a kindly bandit along the way and have the bastard show us the way back to town.

[memoryslain]

[ THEY'RE NOT GOING TO DIE!!! HAVE FAITH IN A PRO... or he would be a pro, if he remembered his Letter Bee days. Shhhhh. He's still pretty good at this. He's good enough to track their footsteps from their trek in, but before he turns to observe the trail, he takes a moment to circle slowly in the little clearing they'd stopped in, squinting into the distance between the trees.

...Yeah, no. Nothing ahead looked promising. He remembers a little overhang of rock near the river and the farm they'd received the fishing poles from. That was a more logical bet. He heads back the way they came. ]

You'll bring ill luck down on us saying things like that. It's all right, I know where we're going even if the map does not. It happens often when people make their own maps without the help of a professional.

[ He'd seen his fair share of crummy locals' maps even as Noir, yet he'd still found his way around and avoided death by Gaichuu. He's confident; FOLLOW ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE. ]

[convictionary]

[And he'll be standing over there watching the tracker do his thing. While Gaius could survive in the wild to an extent, he's more or less a very urban thief by nature. He's content to basically be a half-step away from eating popcorn and watching Noir (gods, that has to be so confusing) at work.]

And you're a professional?

[...but he'll follow, squishing along in the mud and whatever else the wilderness has to offer. Meanwhile, the wind's starting to pick up and it's very cold and moist. It is going to be very shitty weather.]

[memoryslain]

[ IMAGINE HIS CONFUSION ARRIVING HERE TO ANNOUNCEMENTS OF GOING TO WAR WITH NOIR, MAN. He hadn't done anything wrong!! ]

I'm used to reading maps.

[ It's the only way to travel in Amberground, letter bee or no. In fact, it's thanks to the letter bees that maps of safe routes exist. Veer too far off course and you're in Gaichuu territory, and there's no one around for miles.

The wind whips at the heavy scarf he'd managed to obtain but he remains obstinately on course, eyes darting from side to side, constantly aware of his surroundings. He had no Dingo, not really— the white fluff of a carrier was having too much fun bounding around in the tall grass at his side and didn't seem to function well for defense. Far as he's concerned, she just served to look cute. He hasn't messed much with anything else. ]

How long have you been here, Gaius? What is the rest of the world like?

[ May as well make conversation while they try to trek back before the storm— it wouldn't be but maybe twenty minutes back to the river since they weren't scouring the landscape, but who knows how the storms here worked. ]

D

[carptricks]

[takes one look at Gaius and the very obvious way he is dying on the inside and just. subtly. slips him his serving of custard. HERE YOU GO, FRIEND. EXTRA DESSERT FOR YOU. you look like you need it]

I got yelled at for picking the wrong kind of apple for the kind chef's apple pie.

[he replies in a total deadpan. looks like Kaito's day wasn't too great, either]

[convictionary]

[He's taking the custard without argument. He's-]

What kind of apple?

[He might actually join in on the judging (but only a little because of the custard, which basically has elevated Kaito into 'I WILL TAKE A HIT FOR YOU IN A FIGHT, MY FRIEND' territory) depending on what type of apple is mentioned.]

[carptricks]

. . .

Red apples?

[somehow, he can sense that he's about to be judged here]

How the heck was I supposed to know that most apple pies are baked with the green apples?

[convictionary]

[...he's trying to tamp down on the judging he swears.]

You never cooked before, have you, Strings.

[But that's okay because he has a 2x serving of custard and this is like I will block a mortal blow for you territory, almost.]

[carptricks]

[yeah you'd better appreciate that custard!!]

I'm a magician, not a cook. Cut me a break, here!

C

[endoftherepublic]

[Hux is starting to deeply regret his life choices. One of the primary ones of them being agreeing to go on this caravan trek in the first place. The other was all of these close-combat battles he seems to be forced into. For some of the others, it may have looked "badass," but for Hux it had just ended up in another attempt not to get killed. It resulted in his uniform once again being damaged, a cut on his cheek, and more dirt and scuffs than he'd like. Add to that a body that is still in recovery from the recent kidnappings (though most of the bruises have faded, he's still stiff,) and it was a frustrating, trying fight.

So here he is at the end of it all, two of the bandits fleeing off into the bushes, Hux himself breathing hard and his normally pristine appearance well and truly ruffled. There's a tree to his left with a couple branches that are now frozen solid thanks to the ice magic that he's still having trouble controlling.

At Gaius's question, however, he straightens, clipping his blaster back into the holster at his side before tugging off his gloves, reaching up to touch his stinging cheek to investigate the cause. He makes an annoyed sound as his fingers come away dotted with blood]

Not nearly enough.

[convictionary]

[Hux gets...a sympathetic look, actually, frustrated yet sympathetic, because he does understand and relate.

His magic was terrible. His rank was still pawn. The only element that Gaius could reach for with any regularity was fire, and that was only when he was frustrated enough to basically insinuate that Teddy could choke on a Noir dick and die and make a frustrated and lewd gesture in the process. (Which might have happened.) His actual attempts tended to splutter and fail.

And they weren't getting paid that much in the first place.]

I snagged a few bottles of wine. White. Okay stuff.

[This was his roundabout way of insinuating that they could just drink and bitch later. As for him, he was winded and there was nicks and scratches, but he wasn't that fond of the uniform in the first place and welcomed the excuse to not wear it.]

Don't ask where I got 'em.

[Or do and enjoy a fascinating anecdote about the mayor's mansion as he hobbled (felt like he maybe pulled something, but he could still fight) to grab water from the caravan ere they continue onward.]

[endoftherepublic]

[Oh. Well. That certainly catches Hux's attention. Normally he might turn down an offer of "okay stuff," but quite frankly it has been neigh impossible to get wine here. He's not sure what sort of aversion Blanc has to it, but it is surely ridiculous.

Hux arches an eyebrow at Gaius, starting to follow him back to the caravan to retrieve water as well.]

And if I do ask? [there might be a small (small!!) hint of amusement in his tone. It doesn't show at all in his expression, however, so maybe you imagined it?]

[convictionary]

... [He looks to their left, and then to their right, making sure that there's no one who's listening - no, they're good. And then, he leaned forward towards his fellow hero (who Gaius decided was good people a while back - maybe not virtuous people but interesting people, yes) just a bit. Not so much he screamed that he was saying something that illicit. Maybe he was just confessing that he had a crush on someone or something small.]

Then I'd tell you about breaking into the mayor's mansion last week. S'how I got it.

[Or that. Water?]

[endoftherepublic]

[...Gaius, what. Hux does not really approve of small time theft. It only encourages disorder and misconduct, and there's a slight furrow between his brows that shows his disapproval.]

Oh? [he'll accept that water, though] And dare I inquire as to the reason for such a venture?

A

[powerdriven]

[ She's not so scary. Well, all right, he's not a big fan of birds taller than a foot high these days, but he's seen worse. Not to mention it's not really in the spirit of mercenary work to judge a coin purse by its embroidery. Normally, that would attune him to working alone so he could take that all home for himself.

But they managed to show up here in time to hear at least some of the same spiel, and having worked with Gaius in the lizard dungeon without much issue, he considers the extra help in dealing with these bandits as a necessary price to be paid. ]

I say we take the lady up. [ To Constance (whose eccentricity he is surprisingly understanding of): ] Not a scratch, right? Leave it to us.

[ ...right, Gaius? ]

[convictionary]

Safe as houses.

[Deadpan and sincere, despite the fact that his explicit breaking into houses count was 1 so far in his tenure in Blanc.

Although if Levi looked at him, Gaius would look back and...it was the same look he gave when (h)Alle flipped before he tore apart the boss with his bare hands or whatever he did during that adventure which was great and terrible and won't be recounted besides this.

It's a visual shorthand for, "I'm not arguing, but man, I can't believe what's probably gonna happen next." Which gets smoothed over as quickly as it happens.]

Nothing we haven't handled before. Heroes and all.

[...waiting until the woman's out of earshot.]

And I feel bad for the poor bastard who lets a scratch land on her merchandise. [Not that he's planning on it, but, you know, she seems like the type who'd kill them all.]

[powerdriven]

[ Good going. But really, just about any way you slice it, protecting these goods means that any bandits who try to get in their way are gonna die. That's just the way it is, and he won't go to any extra considerations if it means risking their own safety. Whether they do it or Constance does, the result is more or less the same.

Except this way, they won't die, too. Survival of the fittest.

Anyway, with their show of straight faces (at least one part genuine), they do manage to win her over. She goes to get the supplies, soon calling back for "you two" to come help. Before he obliges, he replies with a resigned press of his lips together. ]

Don't get ahead of yourself.

[ Not until they're home free for the road, that is. Not wrong, as she continues screeching at them as they move things into carriage in apparent threat that they break something. When they're finally given the go-ahead, Levi is sure he feels some weariness leave him. He pats the haunch of the horse leading their carriage of goods. ]

Walk. [ ...and they're off. Though "walk" applies to them, too. Far safer for the cargo to stay on their feet. ]

[convictionary]

[He was actually good for once and resisted the urge to pocket a thing or three while he loaded as he got the sense that he'd be a dead man if he was caught, and, more surprisingly, got the sense that Levi would actually notice.

Which is why Levi was Levi in his brain and not Bean or Shorty. The people he should be careful around skipped the cute nicknames.]

You done this before, Levi.

[He said as he started walking. He could take a hint and...agreed, actually, on feeling better.]

[powerdriven]

[ He might, but just this once, he'd be willing to let it slide on behalf of them not getting flayed alive by the inventor here for the indiscretion. Of course, being out on this relatively open road by themselves was another thing. You never know what might happen out here, the welfare of the real bandits included.

It's not exactly a bad thing to be deigned it, but he's far past the point of demanding respect from anyone. For the other heroes, just cooperation will do. ]

Yeah. Seems there's a real need for delivery people around here.

[ This'll be his second run. Unless he meant doing this elsewhere, in which case, the answer is still yes. Just not with an eye out for men. ]