Nak Nak Nak Nak Nak Nak.

[Crona]

With a nod, Crona whispers lightly to his blade, and just like that, it transforms into a pillar of sickly purple light before the young boy absorbs it into himself as though it was a ordinary thing. He felt even more insecure without something to hold, and so grabs his elbow with his opposite arm as he follows Jon into the Gate. He gawks at the trooper Captain as he snorts somewhat at Crona before returning to his post outside the gate, being met with a series of grunts and mumbles as his platoon acknowledges his arrival. He would have continued staring, if not for a blaring white light as he entered the gate to Coruscant.

Crona breathes in heavily as he enters through the gate, a bright light dazzling his eyes as he travels through. It really was quite a sublime feeling, unlike anything he had experienced before, but as suddenly as it started, it was over, and he finds himself standing infront of the Empire's glorious city of Coruscant. He stretches his head around to get a good feel of the place, it seemed to escalate in every direction, the giant cityscape somewhat reminding him of his home in Death City on his home world, except this place was definitely much more high-tech. He even saw strange hovering boxes that seemed to transport people to one of the other levels of the city. It truly seemed like a marvel, but more then that, those weird white soldiers were telling the truth.

It bustled with people, soldiers and civilians went about their business to whatever place they were rushing off to. Crona wondered how many things there would be in such a city, libraries, training rooms, maybe a nice place where he could get away from everyone. Maybe there were even others like him, taken from their world? He shuddered at the idea, not that they were taken, but the idea of conversing with people. For now, Jon was enough to give him direction, and Ragnarok would always be there for him. Even if it didn't seem like it.

With a light sigh, Crona relaxes somewhat, though still clings onto his elbow with his hand, this felt a little more like his own home. Sure, it was a little different, especially with the flying boxes and the lights with no candles in them, but aside from that, he found the cityscape comforting.
He stretches his neck up as far as it would go, wondering how far the slate of metal ceiling was above him. This complex must be huge, surely there was a place he could gather his thoughts, but most importantly, figure out how to get back to his own world.

His own world... He wondered if it already to late to stop his mother, or if his friends had begun to worry about him, or maybe the Kishin had defeated them all, and there was nothing to return to. The thoughts plagued him, and he grew anxious again, instead of being comforted, he found himself in a strange labyrinth-like city with no direction. He turns and looks for Jon.

"So... this is... this is pretty nice, huh?" He says warily.

[Darth Vader]

"Seven hells..." was all Jon could say as they passed the gates and moved into the city. Corucsant was like nothing he'd ever seen before. Floating boxes carried people through the skies, and humongous screens blurred with faces, images, living, moving people. The technology was a bit to take in for him, and anyone who looked close enough at him would notice his skin complexion pale somewhat, a droplet of sweat running down his forehead and to his brow.

Jon and his boy companion simply walked for a few moments, taking in what they could. The hustle, the bustle, the streets. A gaggle of smiling, laughing children rushing passed Jon, running for the toy shop nearby. A few people passing by or standing about with nothing better do regarded Jon strangely. Where he was dressed in a long, black fur drab with a sword at his belt and a bow on his back, most preferred clothing's, cloths and materials which he had never seen in his lifetime. Some wore armours similar to the guards that stood at the gate, and many had the same object the guards were holding strapped at their belt, albeit smaller and differently shaped.

Jon would seem to barely Crona at first, too caught up in his surroundings, gaze flickering about in awe at what he was seeing. When he did finally realise, however, his eyes quickly shot down to look at the boy, lips forming into a tight line as he'd feet would shift slightly. "It's a bit much..." Jon would gulp, biting down hard on his bottom lip. "The thing that everyone carries about... the thing the guards were holding earlier. Know what it is?" Jon would inquire, brow perking slightly upward. The boy didn't look nor sound as though he came from anywhere in Westeros, nor Essos or anywhere to the east, for that matter. Perhaps he knew more about all this than Jon.

[Roger Smith]

After being carried through the gate to the shining hem of the Empire, Adam had maintained his lazy demeanor, not even bothering to get up and finally begin to limp or float along himself. For their credit, the energetic little lizards didn't seem to mind one bit. Or if they did, they didn't bother to speak up about it. Of course, with his inattentiveness, he was simply carted about in a relative circle, going on a wide, pointless circuit of the general area around the gate. Three times. That was how long it took him to finally look up again and put a stop to the general chaos. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The little reptilian servants slid to a halt, almost in unison, and let Adam sit up, slide his legs out into open air -- with some effort -- grab his crutch and finally get up to stand.

For all of three seconds, as soon enough he was rather handily floating a few inches above the ground. He had taken his time during the general runaround to gather some more helpful information, though he had mostly busied himself with being amused at how stupid some of the people could be around here. His own delightful conversation had been the tip of a very large, very hilarious iceberg, generally speaking. But generally speaking, he had found out that you could return things you summoned back to the component Omnilium they were made of when and or if you no longer needed them. And while he was kind of reluctant to get rid of his little pals, even annoying as they were, it wasn't like he could just leave them to go and do...whatever it was they did. The last time they'd gotten loose somewhere not on his planet they'd nearly demolished an entire small city.

Rambunctious little things.

So he did the only thing that made sense under the circumstances. He extracted all but one of the little creatures back to their component Omnilium, the remaining one clambering energetically up onto Adam's shoulder. "You alright up there, little guy?"

"NAK NAK NAK NAK NAK NAK NAK NAK."

"Right. What was I expecting."

He floated back along the way he had come, toward the gate, to get his bearings and remember the way to go in the event of a quick escape being necessary. And, in his experience, a quick escape being available was never a bad thing. Even if it wasn't required at the moment, or the near future. And it was to such an end that he came across a rather....odd-looking pair of folks, that looked about as out of place as a Stormtrooper in a Lord of the Rings novel. (He had no idea, as of yet, just how appropriate that comparison was.) The question that the man asked about the Stormtrooper's weapon of choice was enough to kill the amusement at his clearly extremely clever comparison, and replace it with confusion. Jeeze...this guy was clueless.

He floated up toward the man with the sword -- not even bothering to dignify how odd that was to think or why anyone would have a sword in a place like this --and offered his helpful insight. "If you're talking about the Stormtroopers, guy, it's a blaster rifle." He said it as if it should be obvious. And to someone who had watched no small amount of Star Wars movies in his very large amount of spare time, it was.

Adam was not known for his tact.

[Crona]

Watching the crowd of people was almost nauseating for Crona, so he hunched over besided Jon to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible, cradling one of his arms as though it was wounded and squatting slightly. Unfortunately, it didnt seem to work. Jon had just asked about the soldier's weapons, which looked quite like the firearms on his own world, so he would have told his companion what he knew if not for an obnoxiously red-looking person that decided to float over and answer the question himself.

Crona stared wide-eyed at the new arrival, he --was-- floating in mid air for seemingly no reason, dressed from head to toe in varying shades of Red, and a long strange floppy thing coming out of his hood. Why was he floating? In his own world, floating was a clear sign that a powerful attack was being charged, and with that knowledge Crona goes into full alert mode, ready to summon Ragnarok at even the tiniest sign of aggression.

"Wow, are, are, are you really floating? Why are you floating? I dont like it when people float, I cant deal with floating people right now." He shudders, the beginning signs of Black Blood flooding through his veins and swelling into his hands. He had never seen anything like this, and it seemed much more threatening to him then what Jon was when they first met. That coupled with the fact that he was in a strange city with floating boxes that flew people around, it was a bit much for him to deal with, and it looked like he might cry.

As strange and erratic as Ragnarok is, he chooses this time to form himself from Crona's back, again stretching out a pair of bulky, gloved hands, a built chest, and then his egg-like head. At his full height, he easily towered over both Jon and the new red kid, though leans down over Crona's head to get as close as possible to the floating kid's face. "Oi, dumbass, whats your deal, huh? Think just cause you dont have to walk youre better then everyone else? Maybe I should put you in your place, huh? Huh?" Beneath him, Crona was still struggling to stay upright after being rudely pushed out of the way by the creature, and makes a few muted complaints about not wanting to fight, which simply earns him a smack on the head from Ragnarok. "Crona! If I say we fight, you fight, got it? Otherwise, at meal time, I'm gonna eat all your food." Ragnarok swiftly hovers back above Crona's head, poking and prodding him with his fingers and ruffling his hair. "No! You cant eat my food! If you eat my food, then I'll go hungry, and then my stomach is going to growl at me and I dont like it when my stomach growls at me, I dont think I can deal with any growling right now." He whines as he uselessly tried to get Ragnarok away from him. They seemed all but distracted and forgetful about where they even were.

Naturally, a Demonic being sprouting from someones back would likely attract alot of attention, and while the civilians on Coruscant more than likely had seen some strange Primes going through their city, it was a particularly awkward sight to see the two tussle with eachother. A few had even stopped what they were doing to watch the encounter, and as Ragnarok's bullying continued, more and more began to watch.

[Darth Vader]

Jon squinted as the floating child hovered over to them, becoming even more puzzled as he'd seem to answer his question for Crona? Have I been cursed and banished away to sacred realm of magical children? Jon mused to himself quietly in his head. It was half a joke, at least. All the youths appeared to have powers of some sorts, where they the Primes the strange figure that brought him here was on about...?

Jon took a slight step backward as Crona grew anxious at the boy in the reds floating, a hand idly resting against the hilt of Longclaw. Part of him considered leaving Chrona and looking for his own way out of this mess, but there was no honour in leaving a frightened child alone, even if he looked perfectly capable of defending himself and had a demon friend inside of him to lend a hand. If father was here, he wouldn't do that... he'd stay with him.

Jon remained just as silent as Ragnarok sprouted out to speak his piece, shaking his head quietly. Once the demon would disappear, he'd merely step back into place, gripping Crona's shoulder ever so gently as he'd push him along slightly as move past Adam, expression remaining stern, sullen and guarded as always.

[Roger Smith]

Adam just stared at the....uh....well, at the kid in what he kind of suspected was a dress. Never before had he seen something so completely and utterly ridiculously out of whack as this kid's reaction to someone just sort of...floating. Or not walking, at least. "Yes hello, I am a crippled child who cannot walk on his own. Hence this thing." He waved the crutch at his side, just barely not dragging along the ground even though he was floating several inches above the ground at present. "So I float instead of limp around everywhere because I don't like looking like an idiot."

Of course, at that moment Ragnarok showed up. For his credit, Adam only screamed in abject terror -- mentally, mind you -- for about three seconds. And he didn't even run away as quickly as he was able, or fall flat on his ass or anything that would have been embarressing. He just stared at the hulking creature, his momentary fear of its sudden appearance rapidly fading with its attitude, as a deep scowl swiftly grew across his features. He lifted his free hand to point at the lizard sitting on his shoulder. "I have a lizard on my shoulder. And I have this stupid thing." He again waved the crutch around. "Do I really look like I need to be put in any sort of place?"

"And you!" He pointed at the lizard on his shoulder accusingly. "Why can't you be intimidating and shit?"

"NAK."

"Don't give me that!"

The lizard just spread its maw and slowly blew a rather large, particularly mucus-y bubble....which, rather thankfully, didn't pop, just sort of disappeared back down its gullet.

"......that's gross."

Turning back to the odd pair of folks, Adam was met with the sight of them scooting past him, just on the edge of his vision. His expression remained flat and hard to read, but his scowl turned into a half-amused, half-annoyed grimace. "Man. No respect these days..."

"NAK."

"Oh shut up, you."

Without even turning around, he lazily floated backward after the advancing pair of odd-looking Primes. "So what's with the weird getup you got there, dude?" he asked rather tactlessly of Jon, completely missing the irony of him calling anyone's clothing "weird".

[Darth Vader]

Jon exhaled sharply through his nostrils as he'd pause, hearing the floating child address him once more. The boy was irritating, of course. Yet Jon was trying his hardest to bite his tongue and not retaliating, with word or fist (though honestly, the kid was floating above their heads, so Jon couldn't really hit him even if he wished to). It wasn't a hard thing to do, mind. Keeping his mouth closed was a talent that Jon was remarkable at. If the days of being grilled into by Ser Alliser didn't teach him it, the prudent advice of one Tyrion Lannister did. Wear what he was as though it was armour of a cloak, and it could never be used to hurt you.

He craned his head to look up at Adam. Still floating... Jon grunted mentally. How the bloody hell's he doing that?. He overheard what he said about him not being able to walk, and felt a bit of sympathy for the boy, in part. His brother Bran couldn't walk, either. Not after he fell from that tower... Jon reminisced. As they had travelled, Jon's memory had return to him somewhat, his banging headache being layed to rest completely. He could remember his family and friends well, thought not what happened to them, where they are now. And... home. The warmth of the evening fire... playing in the snow with Robb.] Jon bit down hard on his lower lip as the memories flushed back to him, trying to keep a guarded expression. That was always safe. If nobody could read how he felt, then nobody could read what he was thinking. Ever.

"It was customary I wore this, back where I come from. Being the Lord Commander of the ancient order of the Nights Watch, after all." Jon stated, dryly and coolly. He knew nobody at all would understand what he was on about, but he had a half-hearted hope that the mention of authority would drive the irritating child Adam away. Jon straightened his posture somewhat, removing his loose grip on Crona's shoulder, staring up at Adam intently.

[Crona]

Crona tilted his head somewhat at the boy's explanation for why he was floating instead of walking, it seemed reasonable enough, except he coulden't understand why a crutch gave him the ability to fly. Still, after the rest of the things that had happened to him today, he didnt doubt it, yet it still disturbed him to the core.

"Yea, guess you're right, idiot. A dumbass like you isnt even worth eating, I bet." Ragnarok retorts rudely. He likely would have smiled, if the Demon had any visible mouth. Regardless, Ragnarok keeps a ravenous stare locked on the boy as he slowly slinks to safety in Crona's back, and after a moment the large bulge of Ragnarok completely disappears to reveal a rather embarassed Crona, looking away into the distance and holding his elbow with his opposite hand. He looks as though he was about to speak, but instead just whimpers somewhat. If Ragnarok was trying to be intimidating, Crona certainly made his efforts pointless.

He gives the floating boy a small glance as he talks to a little critter Crona just realized was resting on his shoulder. For some reason, it reminded him of the relation between him and Ragnarok, except the lizard seemed actually pleasant to be around...Well, until the thing made an extremely weird, loud noise, and blew a giant muscas-like bubble from his mouth. That was pretty gross, and Crona looks away regretting ever seeing the creature.

Suddenly, he feels a hand grip lightly onto his shoulder, and immediately reels back from the contact before he realized it was Jon, taking the chance to sneak away from the floating boy. Silently thanking Jon's initiative, Crona gladly walks along side as they get further and further away. He thought they had managed to escape, but then he hears the boy's obnoxious voice talking to Jon. The sound makes him jump and yelp in surprise, even though he probably should have expected it, but once he recovered he kept his head down and feet moving alongside his companion's.

He couldn't help but overhear their conversation about clothing. In his opinion, they both dressed very weirdly, but then again to them it probably looked like he was wearing some sort of dress, which was correct, really, but he had never worn any other style of clothing since he was a child, and anything else made him feel uncomfortable. Still, most things made him feel uncomfortable, and he shivers somewhat picturing himself in Jon's fluffy armor or the floating's boys floppy red attire.

As the conversation between the two went on with Crona simply eavesdropping, he realized Jon's title made no sense to him. Lord Commander? Night Watch? Who watches the night anyway? Does he command other people to watch the night sky? He hoped he didn't command him to watch the night, staring at the stars until morning, it seemed dreadfully boring. He felt a tinge of sympathy for the poor man.

He wondered silently what the floating boy's name was, or if he had a similarly strange and unfortunate title, though he was certainly much to shy to speak up to ask it, and instead focuses on remaining as inconspicuous and small as possible as to not attract any attention to himself.

[Roger Smith]

Though something in the back of his head started screaming and climbing the walls in an effort to try and reach the controls and get Adam to run away when Ragnarok mentioned 'eating' him, Adam's only outward response was a vague grimace and a blankening of the eyes to show his confusion and only very partially show that he had been rather terribly disturbed by the implied eating. But hey, at least he wasn't worth eating, so he would probably be safe...aheh.... Yeah, that made him feel so much better.

As he floated along, he handed his crutch to the miniature crocodile sitting on his shoulder, who dutifully took it and held it, and Adam pulled the device he called his laptop from a pocket in his jacket. The holographic display popped up instantly, and what he saw made his features turn sour and his face turn an angry, accusing stare at the clueless-looking, bubble-blowing crocodile on his shoulder. "How did you even get ahold of this thing from my pocket, much less USE it? You don't even have fingers!"

"NAK NAK NAK."

".........yeah whatever." He turned back to the interface, messing with it frustratedly, right up until the point Jon spoke up in answer. And when he did, Adam just sort of....paused, looking as if he'd been suddenly caught in freeze-frame. And then, after several moments, his head slowly turned to look at Jon, his expression relatively blank save for a slight hint of surprise, but a sharp glare of sunlight glinting off his glasses making his eyes impossible to see. "Oh are we doing that now."

His head snapped back to his laptop, talking as he typed out something or other. "We're doing that now. Okay." He seemed disbelieving, or else affronted by something. "We're throwing out titles and authority and such to try and get the silly, annoying kid to buzz off. Okay, we're doing that now. Okay."

He suddenly flipped completely upside-down, turning to face John squarely. The little crocodile on his shoulder, for its part, didn't even look perturbed at the sudden change in orientation, merely blowing another bubble and continuing to look harmless and generally clueless. "Hi. Adam Gaite. Heir of Time, literal God of Time, universe-creator, accidental planet-destroyer, displaced and confused child. Nice to meet you mister Lord Commander of some shit you may or may not have just made up."

"NAK."

"This is one of my consorts. His name is something or other that I forget. I kind of just call him Nakworth."

[Darth Vader]

Jon would grumble lowly under his breath, a sharp sigh escaping him as his brown orbs would remain locked onto Adam. His 'titles' were most likely the over-exaggerated imagination of a boy his age, Jon knew, though he was still curios as to how exactly Adam hovered like that. A flying child wasn't something you witnessed every day, after all, especially not from where Jon came from. A part of him wanted to believe this was some wacky dream, but this was unlike anything he'd experienced in his slumber before. This all feels too real.

'What is it you want?" Jon would say in response. Where his tone of voice was once calm and dry, a certain edge of aggression and annoyance was now noticeable in the Lord Commanders voice. Jon had a hard exterior to break. He didn't lose his temper often, he could take a lot of hits. But he still had that emotion within him, and given his current circumstances, Jon couldn't care less if he did end up flipping.

[Crona]

Crona could sense the agitation in Jon's voice, the slightly deeper and more threatening pitch and tone he had heard so many times before that it went off like alarm bells in his head. He edges ever so slightly away from the man so he could bolt away if need be, since he fully expecting an outburst at any given moment. He glances up from the floor to see the floating kid who had introduced himself as Adam, now hovering upside-down facing Jon right on, probably in an effort to usurp his title. He didn't seem all that irritating, perhaps Jon just had a short temper.

He continues gawking at the two acting so defiantly to one another, and Crona shifts awkwardly on his feet. A Lord Commander of the Night Watch, and apparently the "literal" God of Time having a stand-off right infront of him made him feel uneasy. Could this child be a God of Time? Perhaps it was just something he made up in an attempt to impress Jon. He would have doubted it if not for the fact that he too was a child being inhabited by the power of the Demon Sword.

"Ahm...Maybe he, ah, just looking for somewhere to go, you know? If hes new like us, not sure what to do..." He speaks up a little as he looks at the two, trying to defuse the situation. "Oh, um, speaking of, where are we going?" He asks inquisitively, Crona figured a subject change might be a good way to stop the two from bickering with each other. If they did end up brawling, well, Crona would likely rush away as quickly as he could, and then he would be aimless again.

[Darth Vader]

Jon sighed. He too was beginning to question the sense of this exchange. As we stand here arguing over all this, we're wasting valuable time in which we could actually all be finding out what the fuck is going on he'd tell himself mentally, swallowing hard as his expression would soften somewhat, back to the usual stern, serious facial pose he almost always holds. He'd nod slightly down to Crona as he'd step in, inhaling sharply through his nostrils before speaking up. "Are you new 'here', like us?" Jon would question Adam, gazing up at him with a slightly furrowed brow.

As Crona would also question where exactly they were headed for, Jon felt just as stuck for an answer. He hadn't truly considered all that. The only thoughts flooding through his mind right now were the more universally important things. Where? How? What? Why?. Still he questioned all around him. Why he was here, for what purpose. Yet his mind would not be at ease, for his was far from any logical answer or explanation to his doubts.

"I'm not too sure about you, but I could do with some shut-eye and maybe a cold pint, after this whole ordeal." he'd turn to Crona with a gentle sigh, glancing about him once more. The crowd that Ragnarok had gathered with his episode of rage had split somewhat, though a few people still hung about them, speaking amongst themselves in quiet whispers. "We should find a place where we can rest, gather our thoughts together. An inn of any sort" he'd continue, voice lowering somewhat. People were still watching... he reminded himself. Jon wasn't foolish enough to trust just about anyone. He had a lingering worry that he couldn't even trust his boy companion and his demonic other, yet time would tell on that.

"Know anywhere we can go? Anyone who can accommodate us?" Jon would finally turn back to Adam, gazing up at him supposed 'God of Time' or whatever he stated he was. If Adam had been here for a while now, then he'd be a help. But if Crona was right on him being new, though, they'd have to find their own way, Jon knew.

(( OOC Note ))
[spoiler]Apologies this post is a tad late, I've been fighting back against something of a block lately :3 I sorta blame school for that, I've been slapped in the face with a bit of a workload since I've got back lol[/spoiler]

[Roger Smith]

"What is it I want?"

For a moment, Adam honestly seemed struck dumb. His expression faltered, flopping somewhere into the neighborhood between his borderline-hostile attitude of only seconds before, and one of being simply dumstruck and honestly pondering over the answer. And on his shoulder, the lizard that matched the color of his outfit finally submitted to gravity and fell from its inverted perch to the ground below, with a muffled "NAK-nakak..." as it impacted, along with the clatter as the crutch it held for Adam bounced up, spinning comically through the air. Adam snatched it awkwardly, preventing it from spinning away and causing any more chaos.

He turned around, away from Jon, scratching his head under his hood, mumbling indistinctly to himself, completely missing the brief exchande between the other two newly-arrived Primes. It was only when the question of his being new here was brought up. "Uh...new here..." He paused, as if still recovering from the strike that had shut him up and left him dumb. "....yeah...new here, I think..." He had been so preoccupied with generally being Adam, he hadn't stopped to think where he actually was.

And that was a sudden blow to him all over again. He slowly righted himself, dropping down to hover just above the ground, his shoes nearly brushing it. He took a good, long look around. And he finally realized that this wasn't just some other part of his Session, or some strange and fucked up new glitch in the events.

To his credit, he didn't actually break out in the panicked fit he wanted to. He only tightened his expression and held back the scream of rage, terror, and most of all, utter and complete confusion. About the only thing he now knew for certain was that he had a reason for why none of his friends had shown up as online on Pesterchum.

He turned back to Jon and Crona, the base of his crutch touching the ground with a light clack as he came to reast standing on the ground, leaning heavily against the support. "I, uh..." He shuffled awkwardly for a moment, the wind completely gone from his proverbial sails. "....sorry, about that whole...attitude I caught there..." He looked anything BUT the world-destroying God of Time he had just claimed to be moments ago, and more like the frightened, displaced child he had added almost as an afterthought.

"NAK." His lizard companion remained resolutely perched on his head, exactly as he had fallen, until he was needed to do something else.

"But, I, uh...kind of just got here, myself....not too long before you did." He looked away, and furrowed his brow, as if thinking deeply about something. "....or...at least I think....hard to keep track of time, here..." After another long moment of intense concentration, he turned back. "I don't think I'm going to be much help, regardless..."

[Vulre Oakenlimb]

Sivo's chimera trundled forth, the treads making satisfying contact with the solid ground, a far cry from the mere presence that it was in the Nexus. People moved along the streets, beneath the blue sky, clad in a riotous array of colours. Red, yellow, purple, and more dotted the streets. Sivo recoiled in disgust, appalled at this inefficiency. Crimson was the only dye needed for a functioning society. Steel and sackcloth would serve for the rest. Nonetheless, he pressed on. Their ways would change once he could formulate a method to enlighten civilization. The machine spirit of the transport exuded contentment as it continued at the mandated speed as Sivo scanned the surroundings.

Tight patrols of infantrymen were present, paying little mind to the Chimera due to its lack of armaments. Skimmers soared through the air, rapidly moving from destination to destination. Buildings pierced the sky, rising far above the streets. It was a shining example of unharnessed potential. The Machine Spirits of the city whispered in a quiet susurrus, mumbling their discontentment, acknowledging small joys. They knew not that Sivo was here to listen to them, to ease their torment. Soon, they would.

Up ahead, a strange group of figures stood. A man stood, covered in a black feathered cloak, and black leather armour. He stood with some air of authority. Apparently a leader. To his side was a young child, clad in a black cloak. There was something strange about him, something... off. No matter, a consequential child. Most important was a red-robed man hovering over the ground. A fellow brother of the cog, enlightened as to the mysteries of the Maglev coils.

The fellow priest descended to the ground as Sivo approached, eager to assist his brother in this strange, faithless world. Sivo pulled the Chimera up to the curb, and stopped it. He clambered his way up through the turret hatch, and looked down upon the ragtag group, his optics whirring and clicking as they readjusted to the light. The rear hatch of the Chimera opened, and Sivo beckoned them inside. "Greetings, my brother. May I offer you assistance, in this strange land?" Sivo spoke, his Crimson robes gently blowing in the wind around his augmentics.

[Crona]

Crona gawked openly at Adam's sudden personality change from annoying kid to frightened child, it seemed so strange to him how he was so taken back simply by Jon's words. Maybe Jon's words were magical? Crona toyed with the idea, and was about to ask before his constantly vigilant ears picked up a strange noise in the distance. It sounded like it was approaching. Crona stands straight up and alert as he scanned the area with his eyes for the source of the sound, it was definitely approaching.

He scours his mind for what the sound could possibly be, and immediately he thinks of some evil enemy or monstrous creature that was on its way to destroy him. It was a mostly low, rumbling sound, growing louder and louder, he gives Jon a quick panicked glance before he finally sees the source of the sound.

One of the metal boxes, but like nothing he had ever seen. It was much bulkier than all of the other floating boxes that seemed to fill the city, and ran on a set of treads that flattened anything in its way. It reminded him somewhat of a Golem from his world, except this contraption dominated the area with its might, and filled Crona with a dread chill that shivered up his spine.

As the machine rolled around and stopped infront of them, Crona immediately dashes to put Jon between him and whatever deadly thing had just arrived. It hummed there for a bit, and Crona watches fearfully as part of the hull seems to fling open and let out a heavily armored man, who clunked down the side of the metal beast heavily before regarding Adam as his brother.

"Oh, Oh, Oh... I, I didn't know you had siblings Adam." Crona mumbles innocently, as he peaks out somewhat at the newest arrival, who easily towered over his own fragile body. "Hello, you... Golemancer. I'm Crona, and this...uhm... this is Jon. Are you knew here like your brother?" He continues slowly as he finally manages to stutter out a few words. He seemed much more comfortable then he was a few moments ago, perhaps it was the fact that nobody was attacking anybody yet, and if this new arrival and Adam knew each other, he couldn't be that bad.

He hoped, at least.

[Darth Vader]

Jon's senses alerted as a deep booming noise sounded out, dragging itself across the floor, the ground tremoring somewhat as the noise became louder and more apparent. Giving Crona a concerned and somewhat worried look, he'd pace forward a few steps to meet whatever was coming toward them, a hand resting over the hilt of his Valyrian Blade, gripping the pommel tensely with a gloved hand. Inhaling sharply, as he readied himself for whatever he would have to face down.

Jon took a small step backward as the thing came into view. It was machinery of which Jon had never seen the likes of before, clearly built for war and destruction on a large scale. The only thing he could compare it too somewhat would be a catapult, though no man seemed to be heaving it along the road, and it was made of a much stronger steel than any catapult, ballista or battlefield instrument could ever be. It looked... unbreakable.

He kept a stern gaze on the tank as it came to a stop, glancing slightly upward as the flap would raise, a robed figure popping out from inside the hole. As it spoke, Jon quickly noted the robustness and scratchiness of it's voice. It sound unnatural... inhuman, almost. His thoughts were cut rather short, however, as Crona stepped forward, Jon biting down on his tongue as he listened to the boy's shaky words. "He meant it figuratively, Crona... they're not actually brothers" he'd say, leaning in closer to the purple-haired youth, a lowering his voice down a whisper. As he'd finish, he'd pace forth, closer to the chimera. He'd do the talking, he decided. Jon wasn't a headstrong or over-confident man, by any means, but he was pretty certain he made for a better diplomat than the shy, timid Chrona, or the rude and annoying Adam (even if the robed one seemed to be somewhat familiar with the latter).

"Hello.." he'd stop upon reaching an equal distance from the chimera, gazing up at the one who stood atop it. He quickly cleared a lump in his throat, before continuing to talk. "You could help us, if you mean too." he'd state, pausing as he'd glance back at Adam with a sharp glance, then back upward. "All of us... including the one you refer to as brother."

[Roger Smith]

Adam had seen stranger things in his admittedly rather short life than what he was seeing now. He had definitely seen much stranger things. The small crocodile still perched resolutely in a perfect headstand at his side was one of those things.

As if to illustrate Adam's thoughts, the lizard blew a particularly large mucus-y bubble, which this time popped. Miraculously, it produced no splash whatsoever, only the usual "NAK." from the reptile's mouth.

Adam would have given Nakworth his usual "be quiet, you", had he not been so caught up in staring in disbelief at the....well....at the god damn fucking huge armored vehicle rumbling its way along, right in their general direction. Left too dumbfounded to even consider getting out of the way, Adam only dimly registered that the thing stopped, and someone emerged from it, beckoning to him as a brother.

And the once angry, then frightened, and now dumbfounded and confused young man just stared. While his mouth wasn't exactly hanging open in dumbstruck awe, his expression did a very good job of conveying that it would have been if his brain had been able to process the reaction to let it drop open. It was mostly the fact that fucking tanks didn't just go rolling down the street every day. And neither did large, apparently cybernetic men emerge from them and speak to complete strangers in such a familiar manner.

So dumbfounded was he in his attempts to process the events, that he didn't even register Crona's words, and he only finally snapped out of his daze when Jon's rather sharp look toward him fell on him, and he recoiled slightly, mentally and physically, shaking his head as if to dismiss some crazy thought or other. "If this is some crazy death-dream because I fucked up....I still blame it all on that fucking cherub...." he mumbled under his breath.

[Vulre Oakenlimb]

"Hello, you... Golemancer. I'm Crona, and this...uhm... this is Jon. Are you new here like your brother?" The child Designation: Crona spoke, seemingly intimidated by the Chimera. If Sivo had a lower jaw, instead of a Vox-Grille, he would have enjoyed a sly grin. Feudal worlders were easily influenced by the holy machines of the Omnissiah. Of note was the way the child referred to him: Golemancer. Witches must have made their foul mark on his home planet. With favourable previous events, the child was not corrupted by their sorcery. Of course, the foul Daemon Omni's appearance indicated that Sivo was not destined for fortunate events. Sivo began to formulate a response to the youth, only to be interrupted by the more mature individual. "Hello... You could help us, if you mean too. All of us... including the one you refer to as brother." The feudal worlder interspersed his speech with nervous glances, continually scanning the area. Much like the other, he appeared to be off-balanced by the arrival of Chimera.

Most importantly, his fellow tech-priest seemed in shock. Small xenos scampered around him, displaying a modicum of intelligence. Perhaps they were trained, as substitutes for the mechandrites his brother lacked. It was evident that his fellow was still adjusting to the machinations of the foul daemon Omni. The feudal worlders were in a state of confusion. Their lack of knowledge was pitiable. It was fortunate his brother still maintained the ability to acquire useful servants. Still, it would be best to share the needed information to prevent misunderstandings. "I am Sivo Sigma-Three-One-Seven-Seven, originating from... Data not found." The last snippet of speech was strangely distorted, coming from the cold logic of his cerebral implants. " It has been 38.79 minutes since my arrival, according to internal chronometers. I offer my assistance to my fellow faithful. One should never walk the path of knowledge alone. In this strange new realm, this is significantly more vital. Please, board the Chimera, and I will be oath-bound to carry you to your destination." Sivo repeated his beckoning motion to the rear hatch. "Has my fellow adept of the Adeptus Mechanicus been damaged in his transfer from home to this foul Daemon's personal playground?"

[Crona]

"Figuratively? Oh, right, figuratively." Crona whispers back to Jon before his friend steps forward to speak with the heavily armored arrival, calling himself Sivo Sigma...three... something something. What kind of man had numbers in his name? The concept gave him a bit of a headache as he tried to understand. Is he a prisoner? A criminal, maybe? In his own world, undesirables were categorized by numbers, but he had a feeling that the rules of his own world didn't exactly apply here.

Crona glared openly at Sivo, examining him while he had the chance. Beneath a set of flimsy-looking red robes he was obviously robotic, the glint of metal clearly visible, with mechanical arms and a set of robotic eyes adorning his face. He spoke as though his voice was filtered through a hundred different computers, though his movements were mostly fluid, he could see the electrical wires attached to every part of his body. The thing was a Golem, of that Crona no longer had any doubt in his mind, and lets out a long sigh of relief. He knew how to kill Golems.

He lets his eyes drift over quickly to the 'Chimera' that Sivo wanted them to board. There was definitely 0 chance of Crona entering first, and hunches over somewhat a little folds his arms to show his apprehension. Did they even have a destination? Sivo said he was 'oath-bound' to take them to it, but he wasn't sure the man could even be trusted. Then again, he had only met everyone else only a short time ago, and while they were along way away from trust, they seemed friendly enough.

"Uhm...What do you think, Ragnarok?" Crona whispers quietly, hoping for a bit of guidance. Unfortunately, the Demon was likely the worst possible person to ask, and on-command the gruesome creature's head stretches out from Crona's back slightly, though not growing to its full, threatening figure. "I think we should start firing lasers and shred everything. But noooooooo, you want to talk nice with the metal freakshow, some fluffy weirdo and a 'God of Time'. Ha! This is why I should make all the decisions, dimwit." The Demon snickers to itself before Crona quickly hushes it. "Awwah, Ragnarok, Come on, we talked about this." The boy mumbles, feebly looking into space. "Fine! Fine... Just to humor your dumb ass. Follow along with the gears-for-brains over there, and if he tries anything funny, rip his head off and eat his soul. He looks resourceful, take advantage of him." Ragnarok says, before letting off a grunt and disappearing into Crona's back. The boy hums in acknowledgement, but coulden't find the courage to step into the vehicle, and glaces timidly between the others for them to make the first move.

[Mako]

Mako had been riding a moped throughout Coruscant. She had been taken by the sight of flying cars and even needed a minute to stop and stare at them. The Milkman's playground was truly a weird place. Nevertheless Mako continued to ride her moped down the road, shuffling through cars that were beeping at the driver in anger. Somehow by some miracle of God Mako didn't hit anybody. Surely enough that wasn't going to last for long.

Mako zoomed her way down a emptier road, she took to the side of the road obvious to the rules of Coruscant. She was going at a nice pace.....well the people were jumping out of her way fast enough at least. Mako was lip singing a tone as she went down the road.

Soon she saw something...rather odd. It was a black thing coming out of a girl's back. The girl had a slim physique with short pinkish hair? Mako was more keen on finding out what was coming out of their back. It seemed like a head had came out of it, slowly rising out through back. Mako was captivated from at the sight.

"WHAT!?" She let out as the head shrunk back inside them. She was too distracted to notice the hole in the ground. Of course Mako was going at a reasonable pace on her moped...at least she thought so and when the front wheel went inside the hole...it was pretty obvious what happened next.

Mako's moped tipped forward as it came to a hilt. Mako's own hands weren't holding onto the bars. Mako went flying forward straight for that girl(?). If they didn't dodge out the way Mako's own back would slam into theirs. Mako's head would be aimed towards the ground not that it would hurt her too much if the girl(?) didn't dodge.