The group may have heard Silvermasque scream, but if they did, it was ignored. 'Masque finds himself among the trees when he regains his senses, not quite sure how long he has been there.

There are no dead bodies in sight, oh wait... there is some gory pile of mess just 40 feet away, next to a tree, scorched by plasma. He cannot hear the platoon, and the engines of the hovervehicles, so they must have moved on by now. It was silent, other than a light wind, blowing through the leaves of the trees above, and the sound of crows in the distance.

Then there was a sudden sound of footsteps coming from behind, no more than ten feet from his back, but they stop, and there is no trace of anyone when Silvermasque turns to look...

 For 'Masque, returning to the here and now from the nightmarish memories of the past is... traumatic, if less so than the plunge into madness that overwhelmed him in the first place. His memories of the last... however long are hazy at best, intermingled with the vivid, high-definition reliving of the sensation of rotting hands clawing at his flesh, of crooked yellow teeth piercing his skin, of...

 For 'Masque, returning to the here and now from the nightmarish memories of the past is... gradual. Two, three times he loses himself before recovering enough to actually think instead of reacting on pure spinal reflex and he gathers himself together, one tattered psychic shred at a time while something in turn notices him.

 But in doing so... May well be noticed itself.

There is only the sound of the wind and the crows... nothing moving anywhere in sight...

 And that's cause enough to move, in a fashion that most would consider borderline surreal... Like a jumping spider, one moment there's an enormous mass of armour and fusion powered destruction standing right there and one moment later it's somewhere else, a good twenty feet away. A beat and it's repeated, twenty feet away at a slightly shifted angle, making his landing point subtly unpredictable even without the curve ball of his cyberjet nodes, which make him an extremely difficult target by shifting his flight path in midair.

 But as he goes, he's looking for heat, looking for movement... looking for signs of life or signals.

There is no sign of life. Only more bodies, wrecked war machines, and craters. Soon 'Masque is far away from where he heard the footsteps.

There is only the sound of a light wind, and crows...

 It's the lack of signals that's the most serious concern for the big 'borg... No radio, no radar, no nothing... Not even the mindless, automated sweep of a broken war machine's automated systems searching the sky for threats. The lack leads him to sweep in a large, irregular circle (since when you're unsure where you are or where anyone else is, you might as well search anywhere), pressing on to seek a landmark a survivor or, indeed absolutely anything living that isn't a crow.

Arven the Annihilator appears suddenly a mere hundred feet away having negated his Invisibilty spell. "Whats up Pussycat? Whoa-Whoa-ah-Whoaha-Whoa!" He sings off key and then spits out thick glob of blood and chewing tobacco. The Rahu-Man is filthy and disheveled the remnants of his clothes and armor are covered with scorch marks and blood spatter. The oversized gunslinger may look like Silvermasque feels but he is still wearing his familiar cocky grin.

 Having left the footsteps a good few miles behind at the sort of speeds more commonly associated with mag-lev trains, running into someone was pretty much 'Masque's plan, but running into Arven probably wasn't. On the other hand, just because someone's there doesn't mean that they're there and the flicker of movement that comes before recognition generates another blurring leap away before the state of the other man becomes apparent, battered and not visibly armed - or at least not visibly toting a weapon.

 "Did not expect to be see you here Eastwood, thought you would be getting dick polished on beach somewhere by now." he answers, going active on half a dozen sensor systems that lash the undergrowth with everything from radar pulses to ultra low-frequency sound, searching for indications that anyone else is around.

"What you always jumpin round for anyway? If I wanted to shoot ya I coulda done it while you were stumbling around half outta yer mind. Besides I don't give two shits about you no how but I figured id let ya know you sent alot of poor bastards to their grave trying to collect that horseshit bounty. I'm personally kinda tired of fightin but if ya wanna collect the bounty or have a throw down let's go ahead and get after it. If not then fine I came to check up on Lotus anyhow and apologize to her not dance with yer ugly ass."

 "To throw off aim of bastards in bushes... Is harder to hit moving target and even if you are there does not mean you are all that is there." 'Masque replies calmly enough, still lodged in the slightly hallucinogenic post-fit state he's been occupying since he came back to himself, then reaching up with one hand to strike himself on the side of the head, shaking it before he gives another spasmodic shudder that turns into a short, if resounding laugh before grinning in gleaming silver and replying "Me? Wrong end of stick Eastwood. I reported you and pushed, but was asshole clerk who put my name on bounty tab not me. Don't get me wrong, I would have shed no tear, but you got yourself on Tolkeen's red list."

Arven sighs, a sight almost comical given his four arms, then sits down obviously weary. "Well shit...Your right about one thing for sure. I fucked my own self. The damned of it is my own self is just about the only person I ever gave a shit about. I believed in my heart Tolkeen was going to lose this war. It just kinda seemed inevitable ya know? Like partying on a sinkin ship. I mean as long as ya can swim who gives a fuck? Gettin any two of these twat faced spell-slingin cousin fuckers to even agree on the toppings for a pizza seems impossible let alone comin together as a nation. The fuck do I know though? Maybe they did lose even in victory. That godsdamned slaughter-fest I just came threw the last few was sumthin else and I've seen alot of misery. Holy fuck but I lost track of how many I killed. Demons, humans, monsters all kindsa shit from all sides. Big group was hounding me and I thought the battle would be a good place to slip em' .... Fuck do I know anyway? Their all dead and I didn't even have to kill em. There own side did for em." Arven speaks looking down at his four hands turning them over and back again examining the layers of blood and grime. He looks up suddenly having taken a genuine fright his lower left hand trembles slightly.  " When I mentioned Lotus you didn't say nuthin... She's alright ain't she?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:25, Tue 18 Mar 2014.

 That, where other things might not draws 'Masque in somewhat, his next couple of bounding strides taking him into twenty, thirty feet or so of the Rahu-man, where conversation is easier but where neither of them is likely to trigger the others killswitches without meaning to do so.

 "They kept us out of fighting, but word is that there was 'big damn' victory'. Don't know about that however, all I see is lot of dead people." 'Masque replies, giving another of those spasmodic shudders that would be less strange if it didn't come from someone who is not only capable of, but who actually has gone toe to toe with some of the more horrific predators and monsters of North America (and other places) and never so much as blinked (not that he really can anymore, but you know what we mean).

 He reaches up, into a pouch - again a gesture less dangerous from him than from most, since he carries his weapons just about everywhere but in holsters - and produces one of his thick roll-ups, snipping  the tip from it and with a 'snik' (from a hand pointedly not pointed anywhere near Arven) uses a test-cycle from one of his particle beams to light the tip of the thing, drawing on it with almost aggressive nervousness, still looking to get over the horrors of his own distant past. That done, he draws in a slow breath, grimaces... and replies "Last I saw her she was okay. Little rough around edges, but that is being kind of our thing these days, da?", only to grimace even more and add "Eastwood. Don't be more stupid yet, is going to get worse around here before is get better. Why not find yourself somewhere else to be? I cannot be say for sure what team will do if they are see you. Hell, most of the ones you know, they are dead and gone now anyway... But you are still on red list."

  A wide, silent shadow suddenly passed overhead as two large wings carried the gryphon and its rider above.  The silent flight of the creature of magic might have been beautiful if not for the grisly sights of the nearby field of death. Lotus hugged the beast with her legs and guided it into a descending spiral when she spotted Silvermasque.  Lotus blinked when she spotted the four-armed slinger not far away and wasn't sure how to react. She had her orders however and decided this time to follow them to the letter.

  As a cat would leap from a shelf, the gryphon lands on the forest floor with its wings spread, driving up a small cloud of dust and leaves.  Lotus still wears her horned demon mask and although she glances up at the tall former-comrade, she focuses on Silvermasque.  "Masque." She says simply, an uncharacteristic calmness in her voice. "We don't have much time."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 01:53, Wed 19 Mar 2014.

Arven largely ignores the gryphon passing overhead. "Your right... well maybe I could get you to pass a message along for me." He shrugs his satchel around and one hand rifles around in it as he watches the Gryphon begin its spiral down. All the fingers on his remaining three hands flex and splay open with an audible crack in a gesture Masque has seen the slinger use in the past right before he draws. But then he sees the riders silhouette against the sun and his arms and jaw goes slack. He stands warily but expectantly watching as she lands and Silvermasque sees something he has never seen. A genuine smile on the giants face, slightly dopey looking but genuine. As Lotus dismounts Arven reflexively forces his lips into his typical jeering grin. He stands largely ignored until it seems they may very well just leave without so much as a goodbye.

"Nice to see you too sweetcheeks..." He trails off his face softenting into a mixture of embarrasment and fear. "Um.. what I mean is I have missed ya Lotus. Ive had me alotta time to think and I realized a few things. Mostly how much of a fuckstick I am in general. Specifically though I fucked up and had to leave your side and for that i'm truly sorry. I also realize now it may not have been that big of a deal fer you and thats okay too. Myself I ain't never felt much of nothin fer nobody till I met you so if you don't feel nothin towards me I can accept that. But I care for ya and im willing to be whatever you'd like me to be. I know if I tried to ride in with the both of ya i'd have to kill more of Tolkeens finest and i've had enough of that shit plus their more your people than I am at this point."

His hand finds what it was looking for in the satchel and comes out with a wad of scrolls with bloodstains on them. His fingers deftly seperate two of them and he takes a step forward kneeling down onto a knee offering them to Lotus. For one fearful moment it looks like the jackass is about to propose in the old human tradition.

"I gotta magic pigeon here and a teleport superior scroll. I want you to have em' and should ya ever wanna find me just send a message and i'll send one back. Or even if ya ever just need me fer anything. Im planning on heading down Arzno way or down south to kill some vampires or something. Im glad to have met ya.. ya changed my heart. Im still trying to figure whether to curse ya or thank ya for it. I'll tell both of ya one thing for true. If the godsdamn Deadboys come back in force after the shit I have seen the last few days then i'd advise ya skeedaddle cuz it means they got more swingin dicks to throw at Tolkeen than anyone ever thought and that they won't ever give up."

 Gryphon's are low-silhouette when it comes to radar signature, but that's not the same as no silhouette, and it's been identified, tagged as friendly by Masque's onboard systems well before it was visible or audible, mainly because he went over to extremely active thrashing of the local EM spectrum about half a (hypothetical) heartbeat after Arven dropped his concealment. Being friendly however, it's left as not much more than a blip on his H.U.D. until it crosses a certain activity threshold, because the single hardest thing about being a 'borg with more sensor packages than the White House is learning how not to notice everything, all of the time.

 He's more or less calmed down by this point, through a process of rigid mental exercise and refusing to think about the jagged, broken teeth of the unquiet dead shearing and gnawing their way through living flesh that screams and struggles but can't break free no matter how many it, who carves rotting flesh and sunders bone with every...

 ...Shaking himself, he tilts his head at the coming confrontation between the other two and with what has to be surprising tact all things being equal, remarks - in a voice that's almost not shaky at all - "I will be over there. Looking at tree." before retreating to give them some room.

  Lotus sighs and stares at the spot where Masque stood for a few seconds before slouching in her seat atop the gryphon. On the creature's back, her head was just over seven feet off the ground. She still had to look up to meet the gaze of Arven. Lotus removed her helmet and sat silently for a few seconds.

  "I don't do relationships. Period. And I haven't even seen you since September. You give me this speech expecting something? I'm not just a mercenary, I swore an oath to my order and that ain't a joke." Lotus speaks abruptly. "I'm not walking around with a retirement plan to grow old with anyone. I gave up on that life a long time ago and have moved on. You just looking for a romp? I'll use the scroll when I get some time off and let you know."

  There might be some small nugget of a girl who could accept affection somewhere within her, but Lotus buried it deeply years previous. The code of the Mystic Knight was a tool for survival and it didn't include wiggle room on these matters. "I assume you're not here to request reinstatement with the platoon?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:46, Thu 20 Mar 2014.

"So your saying I got a chance then?" Arven chuckles and snorts with some genuine mirth then smiles a sad kinda smile. "I know its fucked up but I can't stop the way I feel and I just wanted to let ya know. I'd love to stay but im on Tolkeens shit list and the scatterbrained bunch of jack-sacks runnin this shitshow are stupid enough to actually worry about that while their real enemy has them surrounded. Anyhow I hope to here from ya sometime. Even if its because your in a tight-spot and need some help or just wanna good romp. Hey i'm young and pretty and I gotta thousand year lifespan so i'll be around sweetheart."

Arven gives Lotus a bow and hands her the scrolls with a wink and then turns and walks away in the direction Masque retreated. The big borg doesnt need advanced sensor systems or multi-optics eyes to see the cocky grin fade dissapear into a tight-lipped grimace or the slump of defeat in his shoulders. He gives Masque a nod and then veers off in a southernly direction. Without turning back he yells out.

"Ya'll crusaders watch yer asses out there. Pretty soon this party is gonna be over in a bad way. Don't be the last ones at the dance with yer dicks in yer hand."

 'Masque can hear just about anything... But that doesn't require him to actually hear it and he painstakingly tunes out the conversation taking place 'just over there' while studying the undergrowth until Arven's parting shot causes him to lift his head, tilt it and turn, taking a single bounding stride then a single longer one - moving him parallel to and about twenty feet back from the Rahu-man, arms held safely to the side where it's fairly obvious he's not launching an attack, but rather is after a word more... "You are knowing something we do not Eastwood? You are big on flapping gums but I have never heard you admit to anything being dangerous... What is platoon about to stick its dick into here?" he asks, voice deep but not harsh - since when all is said and done, there's nothing much he can do to make the other man speak.

"Nah I ain't got no actionable intelligence. I just got a feeling that's all. I got myself a schtick that much is obvious and I been hit in the head a might too much but that aside I'm psychic and my race is known for above average intelligence. So while I admit I'm a dumbass I'm not a complete dumbass.  I've seen this war from all sides now and I gotta tell ya Tolkeen is a clusterfuck in the way of actual leadership. Too many godsdamn cooks in the kitchen. Coalitions got em' beat hands down in the organization department. Besides that after the slaughter I recently witnessed many might rightly say they finally become the monsters the dead boys always made em' out to be. It was some sick shit Masque I tell ya. Wizards and Cyberknights were trying to protect them CS boys and the demons that were mutilatin and rapin em' turned on their handlers. I can gun a motherfucker down with the best of em' but I ain't got no stomach fer what's been goin on lately. If you don't think that's gonna stir up a hornets nest from Chi-Town all the way down to Lonestar then your deluding yerself. Probably so you can keep believin in the cause and the right of the whole bullshit deal. Well good luck with that. I'll tell ya what Kimg Creed an his cronies did. They sentenced most every common man woman and child in this region to death, enslavement or worse. All the high and mightys will get away. Hell they may hold the Tri-City nexus for years but what difference does it make. I hear all these dipshit motnerfuckers runnin off at the mouth about victory but what they fail to realize is the simple fact that the idea that was Tolkeen is already lost. Not that it makes a shit to me. Luxury of being a selfish asshole. Anyhow I might be wrong shit who knows. Ive just had too much time to think. Made me all fucking mushy and shit."  His lower arms wave a couple dismissive gestures in The direction of Lotus.

 "Bullshit, if nothing else, have a girl worth fight for puts lead in pencil, da? But what do you mean, demons..? Have not seen anything like that on this front. Are you seriously telling me high command just summoned up everything that they could call and let it go and do whatever it wanted as long as it was against the fascists?" 'Masque asks, obviously caught between his contempt for the man that Arven was and his visible surprise at the man he's become, not seeming to know quite how to handle the transition or the apparent cause.

"Shit if I know who was in charge of the clusterfuck. Demons and Deevils and elementals were present in greater numbers then I ever seen anywhere. They was mostly offing the Deadboys but they was killin Cyberknights too and pockets of Demons were fighting Deevils and some of em turned on Tolkeen troops when they tried to corral em. Mind ya I only saw one corner of an immense battlefield but that corner was a godsdamned shitshow. Tolkeen Command is a buncha cumguzzlin cunts anyway so don't act surprised. Moral fuckin high ground my fuzzy little shriveled nutsack." Arven pauses to put in a big chaw of chewing tobacco then just shrugs because if there was ever an individual who didn't actually have to say "Like I give a fuck." it's Arven the Annihilator.