There was something off about this girl.

Firstly, when he called out to her, she reacted as if he was a threat--- or someone to be threatened? Her emotions felt like a very strange, eccentric jumble, for one who looked like a kid. She was quick to remove the glare she had given him, the chill in her gaze, but feelings and intentions were not as easily faked. This person was either a very precocious child, raised in a very... primal or antagonistic way... or she may not be a child at all, even if that is how she looked and seemed like.

Still, either way, that did not change how Rhyme thought he should deal with her, beyond the fact that, well, he supposed he needed to be careful; this seemingly young woman was probably... dangerous. He noted the change in her demeanor, in how she deliberately played up her childlikeness, as soon as she was aware that she was dealing with somebody, with him. He wondered why she could not be true to herself.

He continued the conversation as if he observed none of these things.

"A familiar, huh?" he repeated. That reminded him of Iocus, the friend he'd visited just a while ago; he was a theurgist, and his magic relied around his familiar, a crow wyvern... or something, he couldn't remember right now what exact species Kraka was supposed to be. "So you're a theurgist, then?"

He had suspicions he was a theurgist too, or at least knew a different way of magic than just his mutations, from the vague dreams that he had. There was no indication he had a familiar looking over him while he'd been sleeping in the ruin, though. Still, he was probably no arcanist or mystic, from what he'd learned about how magic worked, although he could be an artificer... ah, but that line of thought probably didn't belong entirely in this situation.

"I... haven't seen a slime on my way here." he answered, truthfully. It seemed the girl was amusing herself, thinking that she had deceived him. Well, he would allow that pleasure, until she sought harm upon him; hopefully it wouldn't come to that. "Although..."

"...I'm pretty good at finding people." he began. "Could you tell me... how Blue thinks? What does he usually have in mind?" he asked. "If he's just around here in the Repose, I think I could figure out where he is." he offered.

---

Cassiopeia

Rhyme laughed lightly at the antics between the magical beast and her master. "Well, her stomach might be a bit different from ours." he opined.

It was then that they arrived at their destination. What surprised Rhyme the most was... well, that the place wasn't a place but more of... a wagon? a rickshaw? Well, at least it seemed such a setup meant the food was cheap... and he could now somewhat see why Kraka would think this sort of food was unhealthy. Iocus proceeded to banter with the stall's owner.

"Um, hello. My name's Rhyme. I'm Iocus's friend, I think." he said by manner of introduction, when the good-natured bickering between merchant and customer died down. "He said you... sell ramen?" he asked. Iocus had already given his order... he inspected the stall with his eyes... was ramen some sort of... noodles? "I guess I'll go with what he ordered, although do you have any recommendations?"

...and then Iocus decided to address him again. He was... as crude as ever, although he was starting to acclimatize; he ignored the rude joke. "I get a few vague things from my dreams." he said. "Fighting a bunch of people with... magic..." He looked at his hands--- such magic was beyond him, at this point, but could he remember how to do it? Would remembering that lead him to other memories? "Protecting people with it." Meeting a radiant someone. he did not say. "It's still all a blur, though, and I don't really have any concrete clues..."

---

Iocus Devir

Notwithstanding the counsel of various acquaintances, he had ventured into the dark side of Eos: the crumbling vestige that was Fersen.

He walked around and looked about, without a direction in mind, even as he tried to keep track the direction he came from, the direction of the airship station. What he saw, what he heard, and perhaps most importantly, considering his unique senses, what he felt, disturbed him more than he thought he would, etching a frown into his normally mild face.

There were beggars upon the streets, thieves and ne'er do wells--- he could sense the hunger, the desperation, the malice lurking within them, and it troubled him that so much of these blights could exist, that they were allowed to fester in the hearts of men.

The buildings, if you could even call them that, were much like the populace, crumbling and decaying, patched up and put together, more often than not in shambles. It pained him, too, that he could not think of anything to help--- for all his insights he only had so much strength and so much resources.

It was a stark contrast from any of the other districts that he'd been able to visit; Rosa with its grandeur, Ordan with its bustle, Altair with its curiosity, Byzel with its calm. Here there was only sorrow and hatred. He wondered what he could do, to change it--- for he wanted to change it, the sorry state of this place.

Once again, he felt them, and he was aware before they approached him--- he'd been passing by an alleyway and divined their intentions upon him. Still, even without his supernatural acuity, it was not like these people who were following him were trying to be stealthy. They were confident in their strength, it seemed--- for it was how they lived, how they survived, in this district.

He turned to face them, and he felt surprise register in a couple of them. "Gentlemen." he began. "I don't have much money, but you could have it. I don't want any trouble." He wanted them to have it--- but he wondered if they would be peaceful--- for some of them seemed to enjoy, more than gold, the thrill of the hunt. Perhaps he would need to fend for himself.

---

Razivia Tichy

Feel free to make the goons do stuff~

Rhyme bowed slightly in acknowledgement of Kraka's arrival. "Um, hi. I'm Rhyme, if you remember me, Miss Kraka?" he said.

"...you'd have clients if you worked more for them, Iocus." he deadpanned, even as the theurgist talked to his familiar. Still, his pronouncement would probably be landing on deaf ears... with the slothful freelancer already reclining upon his familiar's feathered body.

"I don't know how this ramen place at the end of the street is supposed to look like, so one of you is probably going to have to tell me." With their luck, it would probably be Kraka. "I'm not even sure what ramen is, to be honest."

"Ah, it's all right, Miss Kraka. He does have his good points... I think." he mumbled, a little uncertainly, in response to the telepathic message. So that was how it sounded, that was how it felt like. Rather similar to how he felt emotions but slightly different in that the message was less abstract and properly worded.

"Are you having this ramen thing too, Miss Kraka? I'm not sure if I'll have enough money... I don't even know how expensive it is..." Rhyme had made some money doing some advertising about a play named Etherious, but he wasn't quite sure if it would be enough. Well, at least Kraka was here, maybe they'd be able to think of something. Or maybe ramen was actually cheap.

---

Iocus Devir

If everything was new to you, was everything a surprise?

The Great Bazaar was... a daunting place, in its size and color and variety. Food, trinkets, magical tools, furniture, books--- almost anything that one could think of could be bought here, from one stall or another.

The true spectacle, however, was not the vast array of products, but the people, at least for Rhyme: buyers and dealers and sellers, thieves and beggars, tourists and inspectors and guards and prospectors. To Rhyme's soul, their presences resonated, reverberated, with their intent, with their emotion, each one unique.

Still, so many of them were strangers, so many he did not know yet, beyond the surface thrumming of their psyches; their voices and movements added to the noise their souls made in his head, and it felt a bit overwhelming, the first time.

Now... well, it was still rather heavy, but he was getting used to it... tuning out what he did not need, although he still paid a little attention to the feelings of the throng at the back of his mind. That had allowed him to catch a couple of pickpockets, chastise them a little and report them to guards who seemed reliable... although they were not yet the guard that was his reason to be here... the knight he was looking for.

She'd called herself Behemoth--- one of the people who had discovered him in his slumber in the ruin--- a Knight of Eos, and a mutant like him. She'd been... genial to him, he supposed, even offering a place to stay, and had been tolerant about his various questions about the world... like what the Knights of this humongous city did. He had a vague idea that, well, they were the authorities and kept the peace, but sometimes the devil was in the details. And... perhaps he was also interested in knowing her better.

Ah, there she was. He felt her before he saw her. He waved as he approached.

"Miss Behemoth! Good morning!"

---

Behemoth