Well this is fuckin' embarrassing. I just went and squadded up with these guys, and on our first outing I last five minutes before I end up getting warped to... wherever the fuck I am now! I start looking around to try and get a handle on my location, but no dice. I'm not even sure if I'm in town anymore. After wandering around for about half an hour I start to chill out and realize that I was in one of the older abandoned parts of Arcton. The buildings are more crudely constructed here, but the runes still work and with a little magis to stimulate them you can turn on the lights and open doors and stuff. I used to do some target practice in these parts, teachers call it the "Proto-city".

I try use my switch and send to Wyatt and Tyson a few times but I guess I'm out of range for now. I start to wonder if I should find a vantage point or somethin' to get an idea of how to get back to the guys, but then I get to figurin' my luck ain't so bad. Those two can brain their way around whatever traps and garbage those Travers people have cooked up in their house, then once they start talking to Teach, the boys will have him send me right over and we can have a nice long chat about current affairs and what not. Until then I can just kick back and practice my shaping. Tyson says I got a knack for it, and now that I come to think of it, yeah I'm damn good at it! Just as I really get into the groove, start throwing some firebolts shaped like lightning bolts to pepper in a little more speed to em', a wooden door shows up nearby. Everybody knows that that's Mr. Travers' trademark move. Things worked out just like I figured they would. I mosey on over to the door and walk my way in, "Hey fellas looks like you got your meeting, huh? So, What'd I miss?"

* * *

I wish we had other candidates to choose from but for some reason Tyson's set on Kurt for helping us out. As he filled in the bozo on what's going on I kept glancing at my pocket watch, the blips on the watch face were splitting up, which could play to our advantage. Travers looked like he wanted to have a say in what was going on, but I think he needed time to process the conversation he and Tyson just had. Besides, he's not in any condition to do anything besides leave things to us. Tyson was surprisingly handling things well, directing Travers to use his doors to crack open and spy on the new arrivals.

Towards the west end of town was a tall woman who wore baggy white pants with a black crop top and a beige sarong on her waist. She struts her way further west in the center of one of the main roads. The block she was passing through had a trader's market open, they pop up a few times a week and sell more niche products like exotic foods and clothes. Sometimes you can even find a staff forger. She was practically gliding through the crowd of people who were checking out the wares and enjoying of their day off. We looked on as she bumped into a student from our school and damn near knocking her over. Naturally, the girl was pissed and started yelling at her, I couldn’t make out what she was yapping about and it didn’t look like it mattered. The woman stops to feel the asphalt for a moment, ignoring her aggressor, before bolts of energy spring forth from her hand. The street before her began to grumble and grind together before a hole sunk in front of her swallowing several shoppers who had no way of seeing that coming. Luckily a few of the bystanders had affinities that let them cast their way out of the situation, a few rode the wind to safety, and a couple reconstituted the earth beneath them to make a path out of the hole. Not everyone was so lucky, and some didn't resurface. The crowd was in a frenzy within seconds, some scattered in every direction, others who happened to be trained artists found her as the culprit and sent volleys of various elemental attacks. All attacks from the front were stopped as she raised her free hand to conjure a wall of black sand. Those who were brazen enough to try and flank her were met with a second adversary. A man in a gray-hooded tunic with some insignia across the chest I didn’t recognize. His right and left hands radiated a soft green light before a massive wooden club appeared in his hands, he took a stance and roared at the top of his lungs. After a single swing of this club all projectiles were swept into the direction of his swing, rendering the offense useless. More of the locals started to run off after witnessing that. It was hard to watch but at least they weren't targeting anyone specifically, from what I could tell she was focused on a destination. She continued to toil away with the asphalt she used to grind deeper into the earth, creating some sort of tunnel.

"I'll take them," I motioned. " I wanna see what she's trying to get to."

The next set we saw had veins popping at Tyson's temple, it was Buchanan and some large guy in a scarlet hood with no sleeves, jewelry jingled with every stride he made. They were making their way north. As they reached a more populated area towards the north end, Kurt's jaw dropped as everyone who was within the vicinity of the big guy fell to their knees and was left gasping for air. One poor guy collapsed at his feet. Instead of walking over, on, or around them, he waved his hand and sent the person flying out of sight with frightening force by stomping and shooting the piece of the street they knelt on off into the distance.

"Dibs!" Tyson barked. "That shitbag’s gonna pay for what he did to Alina! That yoked jerk hes with can get it too!" I caught him before he made a break for the door. His glare questioned why I took the time to get in his way.

I take out a stone I prepare with a recall rune etched on to it, and hand it to him. "You'll probably need this from the look of things. Give it a squeeze when you think you need a leg up. Don't get stupid, from what we know you can't die... but you’ve got people you don’t want to forget about this time around right?”

“Wyatt, I’m never putting anyone through that again.” He gave me a solid look while presenting his fist for a bump or something.

“I'm getting used to having you around, but count me out for that corny shit."

He smirked at me before beating his chest once and jumping through the door. "We'll handle this guys. Let's get to work!"

I look over at Kurt, "I don't like the idea of being completely divided, you're coming with me to intervene with that chick down there."

Kurt nodded "Fuck yeah, strength in numbers, I'm not putting my hands on a lady though, a man's gotta have standards."

"...Right." Who would've thought I'd miss Tyson so soon.

* * *

Wyatt and I watch carefully from a nearby rooftop as the chick with the killer midriff continues to mess with the ground in front of her. She’s got that one guy at her back with that huge freakin’ club. Now that I’m gettin’ a better look at it, it looks like it has jingle bells embedded throughout it. It’s a weird touch for sure. The local artists who stuck around to try and fight back were starting to run out of steam and were attacking less frequently. Everything they sent got batted away by club man anyway.

Wyatt snapped his fingers to get my attention, I knew he was a little snooty but I didn’t expect him to be this bossy. “Alright Kurt, like I said earlier I’d like to get some information out of these two, so I propose we capture at least one of them for questioning.”

“Taking prisoners huh? Sheesh Thompson you don’t fuck around do ya?”

He started inspecting his tool belt he pulled out of thin freaking air and flatly replied “No, I’m not the ‘fuck around’ type.” I gotta learn how to make some of them recall runes. Maybe once this guy lightened up a bit I could get him to teach me some stuff.

"So what's the plan?"

"In my experience, big strong 'hit-you-with-my-stick' types are usually easier to deal with. More predictable. We'll start with he guy in grey. You with me?" He drew two matching tools, they looked kinda like guns but the frames were shaped like doorstops. They had this sleek white paint job to them with a greenish-blue trim. Thompson looks so ready to rumble that I got excited myself!

"Yeah, let's waste these chumps!"

Wyatt peers over the roof and takes a readying pause, "You know what cover fire is, right? I'll get his attention and you take him by surprise with everything you've got. After that quick smash and grab, we'll take care of the other one together."

I chuckle to myself as I start making my way down the stairwell, "They won't know what hit em'!"

Right as I make my way to the bottom of the building, I start shaping up a fireball. A lot of dweebs who think they know better and drop flame-shaping as soon as they learn how to chuck one of these. Fire's looked down upon by most artists because it's the easiest affinity to learn and adapt to, being a fairly easily understandable form of energy. I know better than most though, there's an art to this shit. If I pack the ball real tight the way I am now, and make a it nice and dense, the ball gains a few magnitudes of explosive force. That force only increases once Iforge a shell of my magis around the ball itself, a light fire ward to keep the pressure on. Once this baby cracks, whoever gets hit with it is going bye-bye! I'm almost ready with it as I burst out on to the street. Wyatt had already started pelting that punk with projectiles, whatever affinity he's gone and learn it was working. The jerk could only hold up his big club and absorb the blasts, some of his jingle bells start ringing enough to give me a headache. Time to wind-up and end this guy with a fastball!

Just as I get in range though, the clubber does a 360 and swings at the end of his spin. The ringing starts to pierce through my bones the shits so loud! A wave of force knocks me off my feet and onto my back. Fuck! Not only did I lose my focus and waste magis letting the ball fizzle out, but that force repelled Wyatts bolts straight back at him!

I get back to my feet to try and go on the offensive anyway, I throw a lightning-like firebolt just like I practiced earlier. The bolt pecks him in the shoulder, and the guy gives me a look. He just stares for a few moments, his hood is still up but I can see his eyes, the freak's eyes are shining! I can't let myself get psyched out by some mutant though because the dirty diggin' debutante stands up and turns round.

"Are these children too much for you to handle Orin? I'm trying to break through a troublesome spot and would like to not have my focus broken again by you whipping around that ridiculous thing." She flipped her hair waiting for a response.

The guy turns around to look at her, then looks down at his club, the bells are still ringing obnoxiously, just not as much as before. He looks back up at her and shrugs.

She touches her nail to her lips,"Oh, well that's new. Rare as that is I'd understand if you wanted to have some fun with that. Go on then, nothing but riff-raff here anyway. You're more distracting than they've been."

The dude nods and without any wind-up or warning, chucks his club into the corner of the building where Thompson was taking cover. That was monster shit the way he did that so casually, I didn't feel a trace of magis leak out of his body when he did that! The top two levels of that corner of the building were completely smashed in, and still no return return fire. "Wyatt!"

I wasn't allowed to worry about him for too long, because some black stuff grazed the side of my face when I instinctively jerked my head to the side. Close call, working girl over there had an array of needles made of that black sand she made, and it was all poised to make me a pincushion. So much for plan A, looks like I'm on my own here. I put on the most smug mug I've got in me and put my arms out wide.

"So, any chance you'll come with me quietly?"