25. Exfiltration
General Summary
Gameface on, Mirage begins searching the drawers under Amir's scrying mirror. They're locked, and the security is pretty high quality. For a moment, she's worried her pick will break, then it clicks.
She breathes relief, and slides it open. There's nothing inside but a journal and pen.
Jackpot.
Doing a quick sweep for a second layer of trap and finding none, she grabs the journal and thumbs through. Scanning for keywords - her name, her mother's name, anything related to the fey or infernal.
She finds all four.
He's worried about people finding out about his infernal pact. there are starting to be rumours. With the current political climate, if his ties to Baator are found out, he'll have to reset. He'll have to start over. Again. And he be watched, even after a reset. So much progress lost. If only there was a way his work could continue without him. But constructs still can't handle the complexity, the vision. Most of the subsequent entries deal with rumors, hints of the fiery and infernal around his work and his palace, and the redirection and squashing of said rumours. Then it takes a turn. He is inspired. He should never have given up, there is a way that his work can continue beyond him. Where it won't matter if people find out what he's doing or why or how, to have a living fallback. An ongoing legacy. He needs an heir. Not done the usual way, of course. Muddled blood, the weight of mortality dragging it down, the contamination of amalgamated elements. Repulsive. A freeholder who visited that day brought along her right hand, an accomplished wizard who regaled them both with fascinating tales of the arcane weave and its uses. One spell in particular stood out to him: a spell that allows a powerful wizard to split his soul, keeping a fraction as a backup. If a wizard who did this fell to a mortal blow, rather than moving to an afterlife, the soul in his body would simply flee to its remainder, and the spell would form a new body around it. He soon learns that the only way to split a genie soul is to create a genasi. Gross. But there is no denying the things already exist. If a mortal spell can create a new body for a soul that is lost its original, surely some similar process is possible for a half-djinni soul to re-bind it, wiping clean its original tethers. The catalog of mortal arcane options quickly runs thin, and he realizes he will need the assistance of a greater power to accomplish this. Eventually he narrows the options down to devils and fey. It's nearly impossible to reveal his plan to his patron without giving himself away, and even if he could, he doesn't want the kid to be a cambion or something, so that leaves the fey. He starts creating a fey crossing in his palace. The first entry after the crossing is complete is ecstatic. Not only was he able to call a powerful fey being who agreed to grant his wish, but who found the very idea of creating a new genie so interesting that they agreed to do it for no fee, except to be permitted to "watch the fireworks" afterwards. All they need is two Half-djinn souls to smash together, and a pinch of his own to rewrite them with.She looks up at Cypher, the open book in her hands. He meets her eye, his face a question. She tosses him the book, not that he can read it, since it's in Aurian, but if she's caught, the evidence should be elsewhere. "There it is. We have to go. Now." To her distantly-felt surprise, he flips it open and starts skimming. His eyebrows hit his hairline, he looks absolutely revolted. "What in all nine of the hells... Yeah. Now. Lets go." He shoves his book in his backpack as she passes the doorway. "Looks like you were right after all. We have to get that person out of their cell, now. And figure out what the hell to do after." He hesitates, just for a half-second, then falls in step. "You sure it's a good idea to have the two of you in a room together, given..." he gestures to where he stowed the journal. "What the fuck else are we supposed to do?" "I don't know, I just-" His face twists in frustration. "Dammit" Mirage looks aside at him, nods, sympathetic. It's not her first choice, either. "It's okay," She gives him a small smile. "I'm not alone this time." The smile is returned, but the worry remains, creasing his brow, tension in his shoulders. The stakes are so much higher than anything he feels equipped to deal with now. His confidence in her is rock-solid, but he doesn't know how to be of any help with this. Is he going to be in her way? Slow her down? Be the reason it fails? Mirage reaches out, taking his wrist gently. He jumps, looks down at her hand before her face. "Just like in the tower. You watch my back, I watch yours, we both get out." "Right." Gameface, smooth as stone and about as transparent. "Back the way we came?" "Yep. Gonna hit up my old haunt." He glances aside at her, surprised by the casual reference, but there's no time to check in. She's beelining toward the stairs and he's hot on her heels. Her floating steps make no noise on the stairs, and the warlock keeps his footfalls as soft as possible, but holds off on additional casting for now. Above the intervening landing, she stops. Something is growling. It sounds like a dog, and has the airy, windblown quality that she recognizes of animentals. Guard dog, or dogs. It's hard to tell how many. They need a distraction, her mind is running fast; staying in place is bad. Cypher mimes throwing her voice, his face a question. She shakes her head; these dogs won't answer her, or drop the chase for an approaching master. But she gets an idea. She manipulates the currents of air around herself, carrying her smell over and beyond the creatures; letting it drift from behind them. It only distracts them a moment, but a moment is all they need. She grabs Cypher's hand and they run the rest of the way down to the prison level. Holding his hand while he's distorted is strange. She has to fight a reflex to let go - her mind keeps telling her there's nothing there, that she's just flexing her fingers. He tugs her to a brief pause at the foot of the stairs to apply the same effect on herself. It's a strange feeling, being outside of sensation. She's always lightweight thanks to her elemental heritage, but under the spell, she feels like she has no weight at all - no mass, matter, or presence, no attachment to the place around her at all, like she's just a mind with no body. There's no time to meditate on it. They skim forward like arrows, he moves ahead of her at the outside door, smoothing perception over it, disguising the movement as they step through. They stand - or at least, she's pretty sure they do, absent the feeling of wind on her skin, stone under her shoes, warmth of the sun or cool of the shade, she can only assume - on an open rampart; the cloudless blue sky stretches above them, interrupted briefly by a shadow with an enormous wingspan. The rampart is, like the courtyard, full of plant life. Potted, mostly, and arranged along the walls but with a couple of above-ground flowerbeds in the wider areas. Keeping count in her head, Mirage doesn't know how long they'll stay distorted, but it's probably better to let him drop it sooner than later. She guides him to a thicket of palm saplings and spreading ferns opposite the door to her cell, and he drops the spell as they crouch in their shade. The cool fragrance of green, growing things and the whispered rush of wind through leaves meets her all at once. The wall behind them is the outside edge of Amir's office, and they are crouched below the many windows, but there's no way they can open the prison tower door without drawing notice. Unless his back is to the windows. But they shouldn't count on it. Reaching out with wind, she tries the latch, and feels no resistance. It's unlocked. Lucky that the cell entrance is also a landing; the memories are coming back in such close proximity. A shining, circular door like a vault or a safe, being thrown through into some impossible otherspace that should have been the landing below. Invisible weights on her limbs, her stomach, her heart; she couldn't float, she couldn't feel her winds, she couldn't breathe. As she reviews options, she glances at Cypher. He's pale, sweat making a cold sheen over his temples. Still catching his breath, and probably not from the sprint here. He's eyeing up the twelve-foot door to her prison, and glances aside at her. "Tell me when," he whispers, indicating the door. She shakes her head. "Tell Saeldor to bring his attention to the other side of the room," she says, ignoring his immediate headshake in the negative, "Don't burn out." She taps her temple. His smile is transparently forced. "I'll be okay, no rest for the wicked, right? Besides, I only have to keep it going long enough to duck through. Not going down that easy." Mirage looks at him so frustrated. He holds up a hand in a gesture to wait. "I know, okay? But really, I know my limits. I'm not trying to go to pieces and bring the place down on you, gimme some credit." "Fine, but if this backlashes on you I'm going to be so mad about it and we are going to have words." He gives her a resigned smile as if to say, of course you will, ain't no winning. Then he turns his already-glassing eyes to the door. The whole damn 12-foot-because-everything-here-is-djinn-size door distorts. She can't see THROUGH it, but it's hard to look at anything but the bricks around it. A moment later, the cloak is cast over the both of them, and they're moving. Getting through the door takes only a moment. He drops distortion as soon as it's closed behind them. It's a circular room, there's some shelves with ordinary crap on them. Rope, a few garden tools, etc. Most of the floor is taken up by a burnished brass seal with a crank like a safe-door. There's flowy writing around the outside edge. It's using the Aurian alphabet, but Mirage can't read it, the language is unfamiliar. A curved set of stairs at the back of the room lead to the first level. It's quiet, but neither of them believe for a moment that the prisoner below has stopped shouting. She shoves back a memory of being dragged up the stairs, bumping her ankles on the stone. The cell door held open on its hinge, powerful magic suppressing her ability to hover, imposing gravity, pulling her in like a black hole. She clenches her jaw, curls her clammy hands into fists, and creeps to the door. Cypher watches her move forward, agitation billowing her hair like an oncoming typhoon. Sim. Você esta uma tempestade, he thinks, and detaches from her side to stand watch over the stairs. The cell door resembles a safe, with weird writing around the outside edge. It's forged from shiny brass. Looking down on the door, she is sickened by its placement. What an ego trip, for an extradimensional prison, to put the door in the floor. To not just imprison, but imprison below. "Cannot wait to murder this guy so bad. Wannabe lich bitch," she mutters under her breath. Outside her eyeline, the warlock indulges a small smile. But he is distracted by the faint creak of the first-floor door below. He gestures to get her attention and points downstairs, already moving to be behind the stairs, so whoever's coming up would have their back to him. Mirage thinks. It's debatable how much the staff knows about what's going on. She listens, tuning to the minor distortions in the air from the creature's movements. One person, unarmoured, humming something off-key as they move. They're on the foot of the stairs already. they're something that walks; she can hear footsteps. Mirage moves to stand next to Cypher, outside the approaching creature's eyeline. She prepares her spell. The person coming up the stairs looks human. They're dressed in plain clothes with a long bibbed apron and some rags stuffed in the pockets. As soon as they're visible, Mirage draws the air from their lungs, and their throat closes behind it. They drop to their knees, grabbing at their throat but unable to make any sound - no air to make it with. She holds the spell until they pass out. It doesn't take long. Soon as they drop, Cypher circles around to pull them the rest of the way up the stairs, out of sight from below. He lays them against the wall and takes up his post again. It's plain from his face that he really doesn't want to stick around long enough to have that happen again. He spares his visual attention from the stairs long enough to regard the cell door. "Writing's nonmagical, I think it just needs a combination." Voice totally neutral. "Also, we're lowering a rope or something for the captive. If Captain Asshat comes along while you're both in there, I think something activates. "So I'm not even arguing with you about it, you're not going in there. You go through me if you wanna try." His voice is dead serious, but Mirage is thinking, studying the door. She remembers the suppression on her elemental powers. the exhaustion from isolation, confinement, poor food. would the captive be able to haul themself up? She studied the door. Saw no indication of how to disable the elemental suppression. It was possible one of Amir's goons was casting it, and it wasn't an anchored spell like Cobbles' seal. Or maybe it was, but it was on the underside of the door. Maybe it was applied to the captive directly. Too many possibilities, not enough time to narrow them down. She looks back up at him. “I hear you. Let’s just see what we’re looking at right now, and go from there.” She knelt down, ear to the door, and started cracking the safe. Cypher's watches her work, taking mental note of the numbers as she finds them. He clocks the first three, and snorts. "Pompous asshole" She flicks a millisecond glance up at him. "477. Year of Legacy," he continues, sardonic, "Didn't know you used the Roll here. Someone should tell him it's a human invention. Fuck up his whole calendar." Mirage scoffs while she’s working. His nerdiness is both cute and distracting, but she managers to clock the final number. She spins it back to zero and jumps to her feet to pull it open, but not before stilling the air to create a zone of silence. The door is heavy. It's also pneumatically sealed. Cypher comes to help pull. As soon as its cracked, they can hear the same hoarse voice as came through the mirror. Mirage knows her spell will keep it from going beyond the space, but that won't last forever. She leans her head over the open door and cuts the captive off. “I was trapped in this cell before you, we’re here to get you out. Grab onto this rope and climb out now, we don’t have time.” The person inside still shouting over her for the first part, but then he clocks that this is different from what he expected and lets her finish. A genasi like herself, the captive has stormcloud-grey skin in a bluish shade that seems to roll and swirl in its pigmentation. He's looking up at her and his eyes crackle like lightning. His hair is like a dark cloud resting on his head, and he's dressed pretty simply. He looks like, fifteen, seventeen, max. Cypher has grabbed some rope off the supply shelves, tying it to the safe door at its hinge. He pulls on the knot, and Mirage throws the end down. The captive kid is sitting on the floor in a weird way. As the rope dangles next to him, he reaches for it without standing. Grimaces as he has to lean to grab hold. Mirage feels a stone in her stomach. Oh no Cypher went to check on the stairs and have a listen at the door again after tying the rope. Nimbus went with him. Now, he speedwalks back to her side, glancing down to where the captive is trying to haul himself up with his arms. "Patrol coming, armoured." he looks down. "Fuck. What's wrong with your leg?" The captive looks up at the new voice, fear on his face that gives way to frustration as soon as he sees its not one of Amir's people. "Broke it when they threw me in here." Mirage curses. Of course they did. Cypher glances at her. They're both conscious of being missing the muscletanks and healers. Mirage is not as scrawny as he is, but neither of them are "lift a person by rope 10+ feet away from you" strong. Cypher is looking conflicted. In a quiet voice, talking fast because there's not much time, volume for her only, he offers, "I could... try to throw him. Like the tower window and on the mountain." “Could we tie the base of the rope into a loop and have him step through on his good leg? You and I can haul him up?” He looks doubtful. "We could try, but I don't know if it'll be fast enough." Mirage can hear the armoured, clanky steps approaching along the ramparts. Gravity, my old enemy. Cypher taps her shoulder. "Gimme your rope." she gestures to where it's secured on the outside of her backpack, and turns her attention back to the hostage. She talks while probing the cell air for magic, tampering, anything. “Could you float yourself out if we turned that magic off?” He looks up, "I could try?" I look at Cypher “your idea is a solid one I just…I don’t want you in there either.” "I can do it from here, he clarifies, tying the door handles together, "I just... it's not pleasant. And I've never thrown someone else, I don't know how it'll affect him." As he speaks, Mirage tastes iron in the cell. Follows it's weight back to the captive, where a curse swirls like shackles through his lungs, suppressing the primordial breath and wind that should suffuse his blood. He can probably lift himself enough to get three out of four limbs on the rope, but its doubtful he can float beyond that in this state. The metallic footsteps are louder. they're out of time. "Hover," Mirage rapidfires, "and hang on, we're pulling you out." He nods, eyes wide because this kid's been terrified the whole time and he can tell from the urgency that this is a limited-time-opportunity. "I'll give it a try." He's got two hands on the rope, hands shaking so much it takes infuriatingly more seconds than it should, he ties the end of the rope around his good ankle. He closes his eyes, concentrating, grimacing against the magical restraint. It's so slight she almost don't see when it happens. "go go go go!" the kid shouts. Mirage yanks on the rope, hauling for all she's worth, pushing up with all the wind she can summon. It's tough going. He's only halfway up when the door handle is tried and muffled confusion, colored with suspicion, is heard on the other side. They're pounding against it, Cypher backing away to stand between Mirage and the doors, the wooden portal shaking with every blow, when the captive gets his hands on the edge and she starts scrambling to pull him up by his shoulders. He's just barely hauled unceremoniously onto the floor when a high, whistling noise begins outside - Mirage recognizes the wind blade technique she's used so often, herself. She glances at the stairs, but flight is dubious with the captive 's bum leg. He's scooching himself back away from the door and away from the cell entrance. Nimbus, she directs, get the others. tell them the shit has got the fan, then find Toby and bring him here. Nimbus becomes a very overlookable mist and zips out under the door. Yes. Together. I'm not alone. Together. We can do this. Nimbus will go get the others and - oh god, they're with him. What if he - but wait, his office. It's right across from us. Her thoughts speed like wind gathering into a cyclone. If I push those doors open - give myself up, then - if I'm loud enough - maybe he'll come for me instead? Stars fuzz around the edges of her vision. The cell door yawns behind her like a grave. Her feet feel nailed down, and she silently screams at them to move. Quietly, gently, Nimbus' presence slips into her mind. He sends her the sensations of thunderclouds, lightning, the hurricane she made over the tower, and, in his own elemental way, the strength of cooperation. Winds circling each other, condensation gathering into clouds, electricity joining a shared current. She clenches her shaking fists as the rope tying the doors together is sliced neatly in half. I'm not alone. I'm not. Fuck this guy! Behind her, the former-prisoner is scooching back away from the door. "Kid!" She snaps, drawing his immediate terrified gaze, "Lock the cell!” "Right!" The cell door is standing at a right angle to the floor. He grabs the handle and hauls himself up, pushing his weight against it. The curse locking down his air magic makes him as heavy as any mortal his size would be, maybe heavier. The door wobbles only a moment before slamming shut at the same time as the doors pull open. Two guards in full armour move forward immediately, weapons drawn. An avariel, wings furled, wielding a halberd, and a genasi with skin the colour of a summer sky, whose hands crackle with static. Mirage stands before them with her arms spread wide. Focusing, she reaches forward and pulls with an inhale. The guards have barely taken a step when her wind slams the doors shut behind them, sending them both sprawling with the force. Mirage wastes no time scrambling onto the Avariel's back, dagger out before he can start to push himself back up. With a knee between his wings, she bends to hiss into his pointed ear. “Your boss is working for the devil and I have proof. Still want to do this?” Hesitation. A fraction of a second's hesitation, but she'll take it. She brings the knife away from his throat, stepping off and backward as he pushes himself to his feet, eye on the Genasi who's already scrambling up and who looks like she's still ready for a fight. She holds the dagger out to her side, away from her body, then slowly raises both hands to the air. “Cypher, grab the book.” He's already got his backpack off one shoulder, digging for it. He tosses it to her, and the air carries it into her waiting hand almost without conscious thought. She flips it open, hoping they've seen enough of their boss' handwriting to recognize it. The avariel's face furrows as he reads. "What in the..." “Believe me, I know it sounds batshit. But this fucker locked us up for no reason other than to use us and discard us," Mirage says, gesturing at the kid behind her. The genasi guard is also squinting at the page from her place a few paces away, between monitoring glances at Cypher and the former-captive. "Where did you get this?" the avariel asks, in the terse voice of a commander. He's not fully stood down, clutching his halberd in one hand, but isn't attacking either. The genasi likewise still has her saber out, and lightning still dances between the fingers of her other hand. “It wasn’t out in plain sight if that’s what you’re asking." Mirage says, counting seconds - Even if all this does is buy time.... "Look I get it, we’re a thorn jn everybody’s side. Just let me and my friends go, and we won’t come back. But you have to get out of here. Quit, get a transfer, something. He’s dangerous.” Behind her, the kid is nodding fit to shake his own head off. The avariel frowns. The genasi is looking to him for orders. But he doesn't get a chance to give them because at that moment, the doors pull open and the hulking shadows of a grizzly bear and a half giant obscure the daylight. Nimbus zips in just ahead of them, reforming to cumulus over her shoulder as her heart soars like sunlight breaking through heavy clouds. She talks fast, holding her hands up again, journal and all. “Hey hey hey everybody be cool, I was just telling these two that their boss is working for the devil and wants to use me and this kid here as a way to live forever.” Saeldor's club was wound back over their shoulder, Cri's massive claws out, both of them ready to swing. But at her voice, they hesitate. Cri pauses, still standing on hind legs, she huffs, dropps to all fours. Blows through her nose, stamps the earth. Ready to fight, but not willing to start it. Saeldor takes her lead, circling behind the genasi to back up the infiltrators as their wildshaped druid covers the entryway. The kid's blue-grey skin has gone ashy white, his eyes saucers. Standing nearby, a little ahead, Cypher glances backward and catches his eye. "It's cool, friends of ours." He looks forward, raising his chin to meet the paladin's questioning gaze. "Saeldor, our new friend here could use a lift. Unless-" he quirks an eyebrow at the guards, "-you two still want to stop us?" The genasi looks at her compatriot, who's frowning, not liking the numbers situation. Mirage can feel the tension of a thread supporting all their lives. “Please. You don’t want any of this smoke. Promise.” The avariel glances backward, past the grizzly toward Amir's office. Then back at Mirage, at the journal in her upheld hand. He speaks. "Give me the journal and leave, we won't stop you." The genasi nods agreement. He holds out his off-hand. Mirage cringes. The journal is their only known evidence point - the infernal diary could turn out irrelevant, the library logs meaningless. “Please. Just let us take it. We need to know what else he’s planning, and if we leave it here, he’ll probably just fucking kill you guys to cover this all up.” "Why don't you just have a chat with your kinsman in the west tower if you need more proof?" Pipes up Cypher, taking a calculated risk. In the distance, there are faint shouts - probably from the gatehouse. The avariel talks quickly. "Fine, but I want your names - and don't bother lying" Mirage drops her hands, stands up straight. “My name is Marwa Halah Noor, daughter of Lydia Noor, the Song of the Tempest. And you can tell your boss to suck my dick.” The avariel swings his gaze to the rest of the party. The captive names himself Laith Baker as Saeldor hauls him up onto a shoulder. "I'm Saeldor - no lastname, and if she could talk she'd tell you she's called Cri." "Mika Oliviera, can we go?" The guards step back from the entryway, and Cri steps aside to cover their exit as the party books it out onto the ramparts, where their rented airship is pulling up alongside the wall, Ta'lok steering with one hand and doing the overhead-arm 'GET IN GET IN GET IN' motion with the other. Toby lands on the ramparts, hooves clicking on the stone. Saeldor has Laith piggybacked, and with their long stride, makes the jump onto the open deck easily. Sets the kid down, healing light glowing from their broad hands as they focus on his injured leg. Behind them, Toby ducks down so Mirage can more easily vault aboard, and she throws his arms around his neck as much for joy as for grip. Only a few strides take them to the end of the ramparts, where the pegasus and the warlock both ready for a leap, Then the door they came outside through opens. Four guards in fancier armour than the two who detaind them rush out, taking up posts on either side. Amir's honour guard. The Djinn himself is right behind them. His loose robes whip in stormwinds, his mouth already twisted for a shout. He raises one arm to point. Covering their rearguard, Cri rises to her back legs, bellowing a deafening roar that drowns whatever order he was going to give. The floating sensation of a leap before falling, then Toby's hooves dance on the wood of the deck as Mirage turns him to face the castle. She sees the guards running forward, but also sees that the avariel and genasi are not with them, and that the warlock is already hauling himself over the ship's railing, and that Cri is already gathering herself to leap after him. She takes a breath, and screams at the top of her lungs, a thunderous shout that shakes his castle to its foundations. “THANKS FOR WRITING IT ALL DOWN FOR US, YOU DUMB FUCK.” She flips him off with both hands as the deck dips slightly from the impact of an adult grizzly bear landing. Ta'lok has already engaged propulsion, it takes only a second to be beyond the range of any non-flying guards, and they're already gaining speed. Cypher barely gets his feet on the deck before he turns around, gripping the railing and leaning out over it, whited-eyes fixed on the djinn. Behind them, Amir starts scratching at his eyes, his enraged and pained screams almost drowned out by the clamour of his guards around him. For a few seconds, Cypher is still, white-knuckle grip on the rails, shoulders high with tension. Then he slumps onto this elbows, exhausted. Amir's Perytons are pursuing, but the ship outpaces them easily, zipping along so fast the wind makes their eyes water. By the time Amir's guards stop fussing and take flight, they are beyond pursuit. The palace quickly fades into the distance. Mirage dismounts from Toby, but stays hugging his neck as she watches it fade. Saeldor had set Laith down leaning against the cabin wall, but Mirage is so keyed up she can’t sit down. She speedwalks to their pilot. Ta'lok is keeping his massive head on a swivel, still ready for pursuit. "Noor, status report. Any injuries? You keeping it together okay?" She pauses at his elbow and snaps a jittery salute. "Uninjured, captain! Not a scratch on me!" Her heart is pounding, making her hands shake, but for the first time in too long, it isn't fear. It's adrenaline, its the rush of victory, of the getaway. She paces, hopping from foot to foot as she tells him everything they saw, the words tumbling past each other - out of order, interrupted by guesses and exclamations, but he nods, following. The revulsion in his face as she explains Amir's foiled plan certainly demonstrates comprehension. Behind her, Cri demorphs. The bear shrinks, its brown hide fading to a snowy white, flattening, resolving into feathers. Her hind legs shrink, her forelegs broaden and flatten into wings, and her muzzle solidifies back into her hooked beak. She blinks at Mirage with round, shining eyes as the rogue turns to face her. "We are all so, so proud of you." Mirage steps forward as Cri opens her arms, lets herself be wrapped in a hug that smells like cool rain, soft as feathers, strong the bear within. Mirage buries her face in the druid's shoulder. "<You're safe, now,>" Cri murmurs, and Mirage doesn't know if it's the softness of her mother tongue, or the gentle strokes across her back, but the tension goes from her in a sigh that catches in her throat. It's done. I did it. Smiling through the mist, she steps back from the hug. Looks around the deck. We did it. Across the deck, leaning against the wall of the aft cabin, Saeldor is smoking, the stream lost immediately into the wind of their passage. Sitting on the deck against the same wall are Cypher and Laith. Their heads lean backward, their arms resting loose on knees or at their sides, too tired for anything more. The same wind that steals Saeldor's smoke muffles their conversation, but as Mirage heads over, she picks up a bit. "Oh shit, so you're Norish, then?" Cypher asks. "Yeah," Laith answers. "Same, technically." "Technically?" "Midnight." "Ah." "Which end of the Ramb- Oh hey." Cypher looks up as Mirage draws near. "Fucking fantastic work back there." Mirage sticks out her hand for a low five, smirking. “Not bad yourself. How you feeling?" He returns both gestures, but exhaustion falters his smile. "Like I really, really miss sleep." It's a laugh. An exhausted one, but a laugh all the same. She laughs with him.
Report Date
17 Mar 2025
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