Scarletfox

The Fox stiffened. She had planned to interrogate this figure, but it would have to wait. For now, all she could do was make sure he didn’t sabotage this week’s peace talk. She let two knives find their way into her hands, and placed herself a bit behind the figure.

The Fox nodded toward Nath. “I will try to be careful.” The Fox called out, “I am in need of assistant, however, please do come here.”

Azeria was surprised the group didn't demand her to put away the weapons, so, naturally, Azeria put away her weapons. She turned the safety off her gun, placing the thing back into a holster strapped on her belt. She could tell this poor soul was about to keel over with anxiety, so Azeria decided to be right nice to her, it'd change her tone a bit. She held out her right hand for a firm handshake, saying in a warm voice, "Hello Hentient. It's a pleasure to meet you, I pray you are doing well?"

The Fox looked skeptically at the newcomer. Taking food from strangers wouldn't have been the Fox's first thought, but hey, let themselves get killed. Her stomach grumbled. She guessed a part of her did want some tacos, then. This figure must be playing off all of their hunger. She let her right hand rest lightly on the hilt of one of her daggers that lived in her hoodie's big pocket up front. Her left hand danced into the left side of her hoodie, looking for a very specific pocket. Ahhh, yes. A stale muffin, probably from a hotel breakfast rested there. It was gourmetly smushed with a light seasoning of blood to top it off. She took the muffin, and stuffed the entire thing into her mouth, spitting out the paper a moment later. She must have placed the thing there at some point, but she didn't know from when. The others were distracted by more voodoo stuff, so the Fox kept her eyes trained on the newcomer. Very suspicious.

Azeriana [uh-z-air-ee-aw-n-uh] walked through the field, approaching a group of figures. She wore a NASA t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off of them, leaving jagged un-hemmed material sticking out. The lack of sleeves revealed good sized biceps and a large, jagged scar on her left elbow that wasn't noticeable unless you looked straight at it. The front of the shirt was tucked into her high-waisted skinny blue jeans. Her orange hair was pulled straight back into a tight pony tali, but there were so many frizzies it was ridiculous. How was she supposed to look intimidating if she couldn't even keep her hair under control? She wore black leather boots that laced up to about half a foot below her knee. There was an AK-47 slung over her back, the black strap putting a bit of pressure on the shirt. This was why Azeriana wore a women's chest guard under her shirt. It was meant for sparring in martial arts, so didn't provide much protection from things like bullets and knives, but was great for keeping the pressure of the strap from being painful, and for hand to hand combat. Of course she had two long daggers strapped to her boots, but she wasn't as skilled with those. Her callused right hand held a pistol, just in case of an ambush. As she approached the group, she thought back to that strange interaction at The Dead Duckling. She had been enjoying the bar just fine for a few days, but the bar-tender's patience was getting thin, like normal, so she knew she was going to have to move pretty soon. A random lady in a dark cloak walked up to her, and handed her a slip of paper. The paper told Azeriana to be in this field at this exact time, because "help was needed". By the time Azeriana looked up from the note, the lady was gone. At the time, Azeriana had assumed it to be some disgruntled loser wanting a re-match with his friends to help where there were no witnesses. Some people would have simply walked away when they suspected something like this, but never Azeria. She never backed down from a fight. Every step Azeriana took sent pain screaming through her ankles, but she was ok with that. She had gotten used to it, just as one gets used to a computer background. Ever present, but normal. Azeriana flipped the safety of her gun off as she revealed herself to the group. "I am called Azeria. I was told to come because help was needed?" She was sure the first thing they were going to tell her was to put down her weapons. She was fine with that. It made them more humble when she beat the living heck out of them. That was, of course, if this was a sore-loser of a fighter who wanted his money back. @DramaQueen And I would summon everyone else, but I don't know the usernames of those others in the field

Would you like to complete the two week or the three week dual credit Calculus 3 class? No, sir, we put 'em right back where they came from.

How exactly did you learn to hypnotize people? How dare you! There were thirty two water buffalos, not thirty three!

How do those healthy meal shakes taste to you? Fifteen tanks fell on the house, sir, but don't worry, because only two of them were filled with puppies.

Did you not see the thirty machine gun toting pigeons descending on the crowd?? Under the circumstances, I would have rather locked myself into a refrigerator with sixteen crazed marmots.

If I were a fire bender, do you know what passion would fuel me? My love for you.

The Fox stood cold and calculating watching the others converse with the enemy. She knew it wasn't her place to speak out considering her recent arrival to the group, but she couldn't help but feel worried about this strange man. Things seemed very suspicious to her. An enemy following them, and then saying that he was here to help? That just screamed of trickery. If she had it her way, he would have squealed everything he knew as the Fox slowly dragged it out of him in a dark alley somewhere. On the other hand, why did she even want to protect this group? She had only been with them for about a day, yet she was ready to risk her life for them? That didn't make much sense. Except, there was something different about these people. Something more... sincere. It was hard to put her finger on it. The Fox would stick around, if at the very least for research, at the most, for... friends. Nope. At the most for... acquaintances. That was more like it.

The Fox looked intently at the wind keeping back her knife. Did this enemy have that same weird power as Nath? Until she looked over at Nath, who seemed to be for some reason keeping her from immobilizing the enemy. Goodness were these people strange. Talking before fighting? This could be a distraction from an ambush, or a way of stalling until backup came. Why not just take down the opponent, and then ask them about their reasons for fighting later? But the Fox kept her trap shut.

The Fox stood taller as Vale shot his gun at the creature. She thought she had gotten over her fear of years ago. She figured the reason for the relapse at the sight of the disgusting thing was because of her recent flashback. The Fox began to think that she should have asked more about this enemy, considering everything else had turned magical and weird. She didn't know how much damage the man could do, or if the Fox could even do damage to him. A test shot, then. She swiftly flicked one of her knives flying at high speeds toward the strange man. It should plant itself into his right shoulder. She never went for the heart, at least at first.

I was going to read another book, but then I met you.

The Fox was a bit unsure what she thought of life at this point. The Fox coughed into her arm, hiding her smile.

This was definitely a very weird day.

The Fox looked at the strange otter. This was definitely a very weird day.

Yeah. I didn't even know it was possible for mac and cheese to catch on fire!

The Fox placed her legs into ready fighting position. A regular knife rested in each hand. Once she threw those, she'd probably start enabling use of the knife Nath gave her. Perhaps this one would stay with her long enough to earn a name. She would try not to leave it sucking the soul of some evil being for all eternity. She wasn't quite sure what she thought of the knife's ability, whatever it was, but she liked the look of thing.