"What a mess.." Medic looked after Mac as he left the room. Going over to a cot, she picked up a blanket and pillow, placing the blanket over the now calm Felix and the pillow under his head. Going over to a closet, she grabbed some cleaning supplies and began cleaning the blood off the floor that the Panteran had tracked everywhere. Hearing more footsteps after a bit of time, she looked up, and saw Samuel.

"Oh, Lieutenant. Hello sir.." Medic said, standing up. "Sorry this place is such a mess, lots of people have been moving through here. You look terrible.. hangover?"

Seba didn't even bother getting off the tarmac before she had finished putting in a pair of earplugs she had brought with her. Norune was loud, and the conversations that needed to take place were the ones that happened silently.

Going into a tavern, Seba glances around quickly before going over to the bar, sitting down, and ordering a Dessarian vodka. Immediately thereafter, she notices Demetrius farther down. Not wanting to bother with anyone at the current moment in time, as well as partially not wanting to relocate, she stays put.

It wasn't too long before Demetrius looked up, and frowned. "If I wasn't sober, I'd swear I could see Seba sitting over there..." He muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow, before taking another mouthful of Vodka. It didn't taste like proper Dessarian Vodka... More like Arcand vodka with bits of grit mixed into it; but it almost did the job. It was like eating a steak with too much mustard on it. Both did the same job; just one tasted like shit - or more so, mustard - and the other tastes like a delicious steak.

In this case, the fake Dessarian Vodka probably tasted better; but it wasn't the same somehow...
"And, get me a bag of that pork cracklin'!" Demetrius said, putting a dollar or two on the table, and receiving his pork crackling.

Te'j had been digging through the rubble of the Sky for a while, searching for people or anything that wasn't charred to a crisp. Unfortunately, it seemed to him that the remnants of the ship were thoroughly torched. Whatever was left could basically be disintegrated by lightly blowing on it.

The cannibal stood up, coughing up dust. He was roughly in the section where his cabin used to be (or he at least thought it was). Although he had searched in a few other locations prior to where he was, he had spent the most time there without any sort of luck. It was apparent that he now had a lot more to pick up in Norune other than a hat and a coat. Unfortunately, he didn't have much cash on him. A portion of it had been burnt up in the explosion, and another portion had been left back at the hideout. As he began trudging towards the Ruby again to find Vedran, he started internally calculating the things he needed to purchase.

"Well, the bed and drawers won't be necessary for me to get. That belonged to the Foxes, not me. Ammunition doesn't count either, but I should pick some up in the meantime. So I need all new clothes, a chest, a desk, some books, my TV, my spices, a mirror... with what money?"

He began pounding his shoes against the ground, dislodging the soot and ash from them.

"I could probably get hired temporarily somewhere. Or I could get sold into slavery by accident."

The cannibal, moderately satisfied with the condition of his footwear, continued towards the Ruby.

"I could steal the money. I'm a pirate, it makes sense. But I probably shouldn't cast bad light on the Foxes through my actions. They won't be able to get what they need if I've branded them as street thugs. And there's no way I can borrow the cash."

He ascended the ramp to the Ruby, still lost in his thoughts.

Felix soon awoke. It was a unique ability of the Pantherans - for bipedal animals, at least - to be able to see the world as soon as they awoke; after all, their ears and noses didn't need opening. His ears twitching, surveying his surroundings in depth for several moments, Felix soon opened an eye carefully. Darkness. Closing his eye again, he sighed. He felt groggy in the head, a little dizzy, but all in all, he was feeling... Well... Much better.
He could feel a softness against his head instead of the solid corner he remembered having laid his head against, and a weight against his body. The weight was warm, and soft, and laid evenly upon him from shoulder to past his toes. It, smelt faintly of soap and fabric, and Alison's breath and hand-prints, and dust, and the smell of medical fumes that imbued everything in this room. Even now, the walls, the floor, for table - everything glowed a bright blue-white; the smell of hundreds of faint traces of medical supplies, having evaporated and stuck into every surface in the room.

Carefully sliding his arms out from under the covers, be felt them over, before smiling faintly, and instead of pushing them away, cuddled them closer. It was nice - very nice. Soft, warm, soaked in scents; it was like a little piece of home he could theoretically take anywhere. He also knew roughly, that Alison - the one everyone called Medic - had been the one to put it there. She was the only new, fresh scent on it, other than himself. Out of... Well, everyone he'd met, she was the only one who had really ever looked past his fur, his ears, eyes and tail, and had seen a living, feeling being underneath. Removing his headband or not, she had given it back after, and re-stitched his wounds, and given him a... A pillow, it seemed, and a blanket. she was the only one he found himself trusting...

part of him hated the fact that he was growing to trust a filthy, bloody human, but the rest of him rather liked it; in a world of humans, there was at least one who was... well, nice; which gave a little hope to the world he had been thrust into against his will. That, and, a person to trust in a land that wanted to kill you was important; but in a world that only wanted to kill you after it had slaved you to death, and beaten you for doing things wrong; well, that was essential...

"Y'know... I could really do with something to eat, and, something to drink..." He muttered quietly with a heavy sigh. He could smell two people in the room; one of them was Alison; the other one... Well, it wasn't Mac, at least. He didn't really expect anyone to listen to him. To know he was awake was good enough; but as his stomach rumbled, he hoped they'd listen to him...

Lepper had stopped on his way to the bar, looking over at a small crowd that had gathered on a large bulletin board just outside Dock 9. He pushed through the small group, getting to a large poster, depicting several planes flying about in every which direction. It was in the seediest part of town, meaning the thing was more than likely illegal. It read as shown:


Lep grinned a bit, looking at it. "Might be worth gettin' the cash to repair the Ruby. Already got spare crew from the Sky."

"I dunno, boss. Seems a might bit dangerous to be racing through the Dessarian badlands. Even more so when you're flying Dezari Canyon. Those small colonies won't very much like your company, and they love their flak and AA defenses being used so they can brew more vodka."

"Nonsense, what's the worst that can happen? But even so, best discuss this with the crew after we hit the bar."

With that, the two continued on their way.

Another dead end.
Kayla wasn't surprised anymore. She came to Norune with only a thread of hope and less evidence. It got her away from Gaia though, which was a welcome change, and Norune was far enough away from Dessaria that she wasn't particularly worried about being shot at. No more than usual, at any rate. The cheapest flight out of Norune wasn't for another few days, which gave Kayla time to wander the noisy streets.

Almost immediately, she disliked it. She'd heard of horrible human travesties as common occurrences in this part of the world, and wondered if the streets of Norune were the beginning of them. But since her brush with the illegal world below Gaia, Kayla had been perversely interested in such things. The part of her that was still disgusted by this world was the same part that yearned for the numbing burn of drink. To ignore one, she was forced to ignore the other.

That left interest. Kayla tried her best to stay away from meeting any eyes, but her attention remained on men with guns slung round her shoulders through the streets. The only thing that drew her away was the dying, smoky plume of some ignored explosion over by the dock. What beautiful pictures they made...

The serenity of the smoke didn't last long. Norune was far too boisterous a city for that. Kayla continued on her way, past the throngs of people crowded around something she couldn’t see. She passed them by and looked up to see where her feet had taken her.
The bar.
A snarl curled her lips. When had she lost all her of self-respect?

Demetrius was as sober as any good Dessarian should be. That was to say, he wasn't. With metal shavings, gunpowder and heavy amounts of alcohol now burning in his belly and through his veins, Demetrius was a pleased Dessarian as any. However; Demetrius no longer had his glass - having launched it across the room when someone had made a joke about 'the Drunk Dessarian', and had then falling to the floor with the inertia of his arm.

Demetrius was still on the floor, laying on his back and snickering involuntarily. Dessarians were barely ever happy when sober. Suddenly, under the grip of Dessarian vodka, all the anger and violence of the Dessarian people vanished - at least until someone pissed him off.

Seba's glare had gone from her vodka to Demetrius' actions; the glass thrown, and now his form on the floor. She didn't notice the new bar patron. With a huff she got up from the bar and walked over to him, nudging him in the side with her boot.

"Get up. If a fight breaks out you'll be kicking yourself later for missing it." Seba said in Dessarian, a small smile on her face, her arms crossed. Uncrossing her arms, she held one out to him, in a gesture to help him up off the floor.

Medic blinked, looking over from the lieutenant to Felix. Putting her hand out to Samuel to momentarily excuse herself, she walked over to the corner where the Panteran was curled up, slowly kneeling down next to him. "Good evening.. I didn't think you'd wake up this early. If you want something to eat I can call something in for you, and have someone bring it here. Just stay there.."

Getting up, Medic went over to a small corded phone, picked it up, and dialed a few numbers. It took a few moments for the receiver to pick up, as seen by her fidgeting with the cord. "Franz, hello.. No no, I ate today... Yes, I'm telling the truth. Listen, I have a Panteran here, he's hungry, yes; a Panteran.. Well you're the cook, you know what they eat, right? ...That's what I thought.... I donno, just, make him something. And can you bring it here? Thank you Franz.." Medic hung the phone up.

She walked back over to Felix, kneeling down. "It shouldn't be long, they'll bring you something nice." Medic patted him on the shoulder, checked the fluid levels attached to his IV drips, and then got back to helping Samuel with his hangover.

Felix looked groggily in Medic's direction, and smiled faintly. He was comfortable - hell, he was more comfortable than he remembered being - but the back of his hand felt super-bruised, and the stitched areas had woken up some time before, and now they ached too. She said a few things - and before he could answer, had made a call, and was now back down beside him.

"Alright..." He said with a faint smile, and nodded a little. "Something to eat would be nice..." He said quietly. "Preferably something meaty..." He could hear his speech was slow and careful, but he wasn't currently in the mood to rush anything anyway; be it the chemicals still in his veins or not, for now, he felt like everything was okay.

Walking into the Medical Bay, Samuel was somewhat glad to see that someone was on duty. Thankfully it was Medic that time and not Mac whom he'd had a few nasty incidents with in the past, including one involving several bottles being smashed over heads. As Medic excused herself to treat her patient, Samuel shuffled over to the side of the room, making himself comfortable by slumping his side against the wall.

As he looked over towards Medic, trying to ignore her somewhat seductive figure standing next to the patient, his eyes were caught to the attention of the person lying there. Or rather, the dreaded creature that lay there. Instantly spotting the animal like facial structure, he pushed himself away from the wall and strode towards Medic, his angry posture slightly blunted by the hangover influenced limp.

"What the bloody hell is that thing doing here?!"

His voiced was raised whilst pointing angrily at the creature. Normally Samuel would have dealt with this quickly with a bullet to the head, but fortunately for the Pantheran his revolver was sitting on the desk back in the office.

Moving her body between Felix and Samuel so that the "thing" was out of eyesight of the lieutenant, Medic folded her arms, looking somewhat cross. "Felix, sir, is a patient. And he will continue to be so until he gets better, or I hear from the Captain about the matter. Now if you'll sit down, I'll start working on your hangover. I've cleaned enough blood off the floor for today.." She nodded over to a chair, grabbing a bag of fluids and a vial of paracetamol, which she drew a dose out of. Injecting Samuel with the dose, she then hooked him up with the fluids, hanging the bag on a stand next to the chair. "You'll feel better soon, just let those take their course.. And don't rip the IV out of your arm.."

The cook known as Franz came in while Medic was working on Samuel. Looking around for a moment, he spotted Felix on the floor and flamboyantly placed a covered dish down next to him. Uncovering it with a pleased air about himself, the chef revealed what seemed to be a sort of meatloaf, with chicken gravy poured over it. He placed next to it a canteen of water, and then left the medical ward, quietly singing some sort of song to himself.

Felix frowned slightly at the commotion that was going on - once again directed at him - but, it didn't particularly bother him; not this time, still too calm from the aesthetic to really rage over anything of current; although admittedly, he smiled as Medic stepped between him and the newcomer.

Soon blinking as the cook came in, Felix's nose caught scent of the food as it was uncovered. Felix physically shuddered, before smiling. "Thanks..." He said quietly, eyes still covered by the headband, and nodded faintly before the cook left. Feeling over the plate gently, Felix soon found the utensils, before starting to use the knife and fork to cut into, and start to eat the food he had been given, smiling as he did so.

it was almost challenging, using a knife and fork without his secondary sense of sight, but his sense of smell and the sound of metal against meat more than mapped out the food in front of him, and it tasted just as amazing as it smelled!
"This... Is really nice." He said after a while with a smile, not hiding the fact he was enjoying the meal immensely, before placing another cut of chicken-gravy-covered-meatloaf into his jaws.

He dropped his noodles, looking at Sarah very flabbergasted. He frowned, his eye twitching.

"N-now you listen here, ya nutty Sheila, I 'aven't so much as even said oi to ya, an' the mos' you've mustered to say is an insult to me gun line. Now I dunno about 'ow Gaians take care of their firearms, but I'm sure they don' bother doin' proper maintenance on their weapons to keep 'em firin'! Unless of course you are all too damn lazy and insist on havin' a gun attachment that scratches your bum for you!"

He snarled a bit, gritting his teeth. He was red and panting, and a group had started to form around them, looking at him. The rifleman tapped his shoulder some to try and calm him down. "Uh... we're starting to get an audience."

Fear and panic kicked in as Sarah suddenly dropped her drink, staring palely into Laurence's angry face as he yelled. Her hands had come up protectively, as she was slowly backing up from the man that had just bought her out of kindness and sympathy. Her heart rate had increased, she was visually shaking, and all that her brain was telling her to do, was to run.
She did.

Bolting away from Laurence like her life depended on it, Sarah dodged between absentminded street-wanderers and the vendors they were browsing with ease. She finally came to a standstill due to the fact that her muscles wouldn't support her running any more, and because she had somewhat forgot why she had started running in the first place. Looking around, Sarah had no idea where exactly she was now, but figured she'd figure that out later as she sat down against a random building wall; sweating, breathing heavily, and shaking, from the run and its prior events.

As Medic inserted the IV drip into his arm, Samuel decided to back down for now. He had got what he came for, a cure to this awful hangover. He slumped away from Medic and the filthy Pantheran to a nearby seat, in which he planted himself comfortably in. For the next few minutes he sat there, staring coldly at the animal being treated. Ever since he heard it was the Pantherans who'd committed the attempted attacks on his life [in which his wife and child perished], he'd vowed sole revenge on the species. Of course, the law prevent Samuel from using his company to go around committing mass genocide, but he did what he could to keep at least his company clear from the scum.

As the IV continued to empty, Samuel tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the drip to finish. He wanted to get out of the Medical Bay as soon as possible. Knowing his luck, bumping into a Pantheran could be the least of his troubles.

Every time Felix turned his bi-sensual gaze to the drunkard, he was being glared at. It happened a lot - the glaring, at least - but even the faintest of annoyances can start to build up over time; especially if that time was over the course of one's life.
"...Would you stop staring at me?" Felix asked after a moment, his body processing the anaesthetic out of his blood further, allowing for clearer thought - if that is what one called clear. "I know a lot of people find me offensive, simply because I was born, but please try and remember it was humans that brought me over here... Believe me, if I could be in Icelandia right now, I would be..." He muttered, before adding, "...And you're hardly the prime example of your species. A real man would bite through a hangover. So please stop looking at me like I'm something less..."

Shrugging slightly, Felix continued to eat what he had been given by the cook. He supposed that was two people - the cook and Alison - that didn't hate him, simply for being him. He just wished humans would stop thinking they were anything more than animals... They couldn't even see in the dark-!

Soon picking up the container of water, Felix drunk half of it, before going back to the meal. He wasn't a fast eater; it didn't pay to eat an entire meal in a hurry when you might have one meal a day. The slower you ate, the more the hunger-pains went away, and the longer you could concentrate. That, was called survival.

Mac popped the butt of a cigarette into his mouth, lighting up as he took in a long drag. Blowing out a long whisp of smoke, he made his way towards the bars, cursing under his breath.

He couldn't believe his luck. First chance he finally got to ask Medic out, someone happened to literally fall from the sky and pretty much take away all her attention. He kept taking angry puffs at the cigarette, snorting out smoke like some angered dragon who just woke up after a century's slumber, and realized an inconsiderate knight was trying to court its mate.

He stopped in a huff, dropping the expended cigarette butt onto the ground and stomping on it, sticking another cancer stick between his lips. His eyes caught the glimpse of someone standing still in the crowd, back against the wall. It wouldn't have bothered him none, had he not seen the reddened rings around her wrists and neck, as well as her shaking some.

Muttering something about duty first under his breath, he made his way over, giving a whistle meant mostly for hailing cabs in the loud city streets of Durem. It probably fit right at home there.

"Hey, miss! Mind comin' over here for a sec?"

He was still in full battle fatigues, the red cross on his helm still marking clearly what his profession was.

Sarah blinked, and looked over at the smoking man. It was obvious he was a medic, but.. why was he talking to her? She wasn't injured, just tired and shaken. Slowly standing up, she made her way over to him obediently, her head down, arms folded in front of her.

"Uh... What." She blinked again, keeping a safe distance between the two of them.

"Just checkin' you don't have lock jaw." He slipped on some gloves, stepping closer and lifting up her chin a bit, getting a small flashlight and turning it on, putting the end of it between his teeth so he could have both hands free. Once done examining her neck, he lifted up each of her arms, carefully looking at the wrists in a similar method.

He pulled the flashlight out of his mouth when he finished, turning it off and putting it in his breast pocket. He fished around his pockets, getting antiseptic and a clean roll of bandages and gauze. "Okay... There is a risk you might have tetanus, but so far, there's no telling whether or not the chains that bound you rubbed the skin so raw, the endospores in the rust went into the open wounds. I'll have to escort you back to the Ruby and have Alison check you out more thoroughly." He took off the gloves, tossing them into a nearby trash bin.

He looked at her gun, raising an eyebrow. "Gaian Special Forces? How the hell did you get caught?"

The pair finally arrived to the bar. As the rifleman sidestepped the one in front of the entrance, Lep followed, only to stop as he sensed something he hadn't sensed since they left Gaia.

New Game to chase.

A sparkle gleamed in his eye, a smirk formed on his lips. He tidied up the best he could, turning around to face the girl standing there, opening his mouth to speak. He never got the chance to, as his rifleman had grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar, dragging him in behind him.

"No time for that now, boss. We still need crew members."

"Whaddya think I was gonna ask her? Surely you didn't think ME of all people has forgotten we need loyal crew. By the looks of her, she's hardly the kind of person that shouldn't be hired on-"

"You do realize you've given me this speech already, right?"

"... it was worth a shot."

The two reached the counter, ordering two whiskeys as they talked to a few nearby people, mostly getting nos and a maybe or two. After a few moments, they had gotten three people to sign up with them, but they would still need more.

Kayla hated herself for sitting in here at all. She’d been good enough to refrain from ordering any drinks – she was half certain that literally any drink here was going to be alcoholic, no matter its label – but the longer she stayed, the higher the chance she was going to end up like the desserian sprawled across the floor. Yet, where else did she have to go? Was she to walk the streets of Norune, counting the Gaian felonies she could have been stopping? Sit in the dark hovel of the hotel room until it was time to fly out? That would drive her to the bottle for sure.

People came and went from the bar constantly. Her eyes found two men in particular. One came in with a rifleman at his side. They looked quite a bit like a man and his body guard, rather than friends. Kayla was no longer surprised by this, however odd it would have once seemed to her. They were moving around the bar talking to various people and, generally, being turned down. Kayla watched them make their rounds. If they came around, well, at least it gave her an interesting way to spend an afternoon.

The Aekean with the yellow scarf had been looking her way on and off for the better part of ten minutes. Kayla sighed and found his eyes.
“Did you want to say something?”

Sarah stood quietly and patiently as the new man applied the antiseptic and bandages to her wrists and neck, only flinching slightly as the antiseptic touched the raw patches of skin. She looked up at him after he had finished, and tilted her head; her arms wiggling at her sides a bit. "What's with this ruby that everyone keeps talking about? Is it something special? And who's Alison, is she special too? Is she the keeper of the ruby? And why would Alison, Keeper of the Ruby want to check me out? Does she swing that way?"

Sarah paused, her eyes narrowing at the Special Forces comment. "Uh... that's classified.."

"Uh... The Ruby is the Sapphire Ruby, flagship of the Winged Fox Air Pirates. Alison is my colleague in the medical field, you will address her as Medic. I am not sure if she does swing that way. If yes, then I'm shit outta luck on askin' her out." Mac looked at her, then smirked a bit at the classified bit.

"S'all good, we're friends here. Tech 4, 'Mad' Mackenzie Holliday, 8th Airborne Division. Held out in Sector 4 during the siege of Himmel in the Von Helson lands." He took in a breath, tossing the remnants of the smoldering cigarette butt to the ground. He looked over to the new girl, blinking some. "Alright, come on, we better get you there to get you tended to. Again, I don't know if you DO have tetanus, that's for Alison to find out."