Blunder Road o/~

Blunder Road o/~
Date of Scene:	22 March 2014
Location:	Thunder Plains
Synopsis:	Kyra comes to the rescue of Zerum Valos when he bites off more than he can chew by venturing into the Thunder Plains without any prior experience with the place.
Cast of Characters:	Kyra Hyral, Zerum

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Zerum has posed:
Always hoping to learn, since only a wholly omniscient entity could ever attain a point where there was nothing that had yet to be discovered, Zerum had trekked to the Thunder Plains in the hopes of obtaining new information. He'd heard about the peculiar phenomena that went on in that place, which might've offered some leads on more efficient energy conversion, or technology that could store power, since there were towers erected expressly for attracting lightning towards themselves made by people with whom the dark elf had not familiarized himself; primarily because he had no means of doing so!

The reality of life was that there would always be trial and error-- learning something, anticipating what would come next, trying to prepare for it, and then.... finding out the application had merit, or did not. Far be it for Zerum Valos not to investigate beforehand, he'd accumulated some factoids on the Thunder Plains, which alerted him to the fact that when one was not in proximity to the large towers, one still might've been subject to cascading bolts sporadically, resulting in the formation of a plan; he'd use his magnetic powers to keep suspended above, and not making any physical contact with himself, a large piece of metal that would act as a portable lightning-rod to conduct the plasma that would inevitably be drawn his way.

He did not have the aptitude to foresee that while roaming about the territory, that the electricity could incarnate to the severity that it would eventually incinerate his contraption of forestallment, which would bring him to his present condition; sub-optimal health. After his encounter with a few stray shafts, his weakness to lightning compelled him to seek shelter adjacent to one of the giant spires, for an indeterminant amount of time. As a dark knight, his forte wasn't healing, hence, he would have to hope the few potions he brought would sustain him when he would eventually try to make a break for it, and get clear of no-man's-land; it was just taking him a smidgen to work up the courage to make the attempt, meanwhile, he resembled something of a scorched burn-survivor during his residence in the Thunder Plains,.... nothing that hadn't been seen before!

Kyra Hyral has posed:
Ramuha had been an impressive city. Spanning the continent in its mass, it existed beneath a perpetual blanket of clouds that changed frequently and with ferocity. Although sun barely penetrated, the city teemed with life given by the storm above through lightning culled and captured by the technology below.

As with the rest of Galandia, the city with no sun had been swallowed by the darkness.

Neo Ramuha was a pale shadow thus far, to no one's surprise. Considering that it had only existed for a month, the progress made was still very impressive. The refugees of Galandia had scrambled to recreate some space to call their own (with the exception of some as the Ifriti had no home, even on their previous world). The structures are durable and well-made. As Zerum examines the spire at close range, he would notice that unlike his own invention, they can withstand extreme amounts of voltage. There are many visible failsafes and bleed-overs built into the spires should a strike exceed the calculated strength.

It doesn't take long for Zerum to be noticed. The first few seem content in going upon their own business, not interested taking the time out of their day to see to an injured elf. Some run off. But eventually, one does approach.

Where Zerum's profession of a dark knight affords him telling, almost ceremonial aspects to his armor, from a distance it could quickly be assumed that the approaching girl was a white mage. She has a white hood on with a pattern of red triangles lining the edge of the hood. When she draws closer, it's obvious that it's not only in the style of the white mage hood, but reminiscent of a moogle's head, complete with ears and eyes sewn into the fabric. The hood does not belong to a cape but to a hoodie. She wears a pleated plaid skirt and enormous black boots with thick heels and large, shiny silver buckles. With each step, her footwear jingles as the buckles clank against each other. She stops before Zerum, green eyes observing the knight critically.

"Hm." she finally vocalizes. "Looks like you've taken several million volts. You are fortunate to be alive." With little preamble, she unzips the front zipper to her hoodie, revealing several bandoliers stocked with vials and a pair of under-shoulder gun holsters beneath. A hand plucks a vial free, green liquid sloshing around within. "You want some healing, right?"

Zerum has posed:
Never having known anything of Kyra's world of origin, Zerum was content to marvel at what he'd seen on the continent, to some extent, which might've been absent of his attitude if he'd stood testament to the original Ramuha. Right now, he was grateful for the fact that somebody had taken the time to construct the column that was guarding him, so his thoughts revolved around being glad of his temporary refuge, and depressed over the journey that was seemingly ahead of him, since nobody was interested in assisting him; it didn't make his quest for medicating any easier that he elected not to voice his concerns when passerby would show little thought over his welfare.

Zerum was a proud sort, and asking for help wasn't a habit of his.... but when volunteered, he wasn't one to turn it down, if he was in dire straits. When the girl in the moogle-esque hoodie arrives, he's tempted to bequeath the same warning he does to everybody else that nears him.... to do just the opposite, and keep their distance. As said, though, there were some earmarks of doctoral calling that radiated from the girl in white, which clued him to the fact that there was a chance she could, and even /would/ heal him, allowed the opportunity! What student of curative magics would refrain from aiding one in need? Mayhap one that didn't want to improve, and refine their technique. The dark elf hoped this was not that type, and his wishes look as though they'll be granted when she takes the time to acknowledge his predicament, as well as choosing to question if he wanted some healing.

"Given my current quality of life, Miss, I'd like to concede, if I'm allowed a modification to your statement.... I think I'm just barely fortunate to be alive. I mean no offense, but there are conditions in which one would not be fortunate to be alive, I think." He shrugs, then coughs a little, showing some more telltale signs of his wear and tear, before he grins, "Healing would be welcome. Eventually, I have to brave that jazz all over again, sans my original ward which had kept me safe for about an hour.... I have no paper though, so I can't put together a formal contract." She might be wondering what he meant by that, but mystery or not, he expanded on what he meant, "I can only offer a verbal agreement to assure you payback."

Kyra Hyral has posed:
Kyra Hyral carries no staff on her; another thing that Zerum would and possibly find odd if he has a certain schema of what a white mage was in his mind. Apparently she has eschewed blunt objects in the favor of projectiles and who knows what else. Some of the vials upon her bandoliers contain liquids or powders of other hues, betraying a non-curative nature.

"Would you prefer being dead to being alive right now, given your current state?" Kyra queries as she reaches for one of the weapons contained in her holsters. Drawing it forth, it's clearly not a traditional gun meant to expel bullets. There is an area along the barrel where the vial she took fits in neatly. At the end of the muzzle is a long, conspicous needle. "I agree there are some states worse than being dead. But you aren't a vegetable or being compelled to act against your will at the moment, just to name a few." Holding up her weapon, she flicks the side a few times before approaching the drow. "Present your arm with your palm upright, please."

She doesn't even pause at the mention of contracts or paybacks, but her eyes do flicker. "Well I could declare this an act of charity buuuuuut...give your profession, I could see your skillset helping me out in the future."

Zerum has posed:
The dark knight did take note of the oddities she had on her person, but didn't make a big commotion over it, since the World of Ruin had so many folks that a lot of people were a blend of different classes and skill-sets, and felt that if she wanted to tell him about herself, she'd do the announcing. Right now he didn't want to be too nosy, since overly-inquisitive people sometimes scared folks off; not a good idea, since Kyra was planning on rendering remedial service. As she brings the gun to bear, Zerum begins to wriggle around very lightly, as though thinking she was indicating that she planned to offer to put him out of his misery, yet, within an instant, he could tell that it wasn't a standard gun, and he calmed down.

As she spews forth her query, Zerum nods his head to the side, aiming to direct her attention to the sword that was propped against the tower only about a couple feet away, which she probably already saw when she was approaching, as if to accentuate its importance, and with his coming statement, it becomes clear why, "See that thing, there?" He smirks, "When barely becomes negatory, I'll be able to fix my problem with promptness.... and that's all I have to say on that topic." When she entreats him to hold out his arm, the drow complies, moving slower than usual, since movement apparently caused him distress.

It's only when her eyes flicker does he realize that he is truly and undeniably dealing with an unorthodox white-mage, since she takes the time to even consider charging him for her help; this isn't to say his bid wasn't genuine, but implied entitlements were something that frequently accompanied 'charity', so he was testing to see if he actually was likely to receive unquestionably free treatment. "It's at this point that I can't discern whether you're more an opportunist or more a humanitarian, since you seem to be teetering on the cusp of whether or not to indulge me with or without reimbursement. Well, I won't complain with whatever you decide, just as long as you're honest and upfront about it. An enemy stabs you in the back, but a friend, if they are indeed a friend, will stab you in the chest, if they must do the deed."

Kyra Hyral has posed:
Once the arm is presented appropriately, Kyra steps forward and crouches before Zerum, taking his arm with one hand and inserting the needle just beneath the crease where the elbow bends. The needle hurts going in but the pain is barely comparable to what Zerum had suffered moments before. The vial is emptied of its contents and within seconds, he can feel the pain drain away from him, spreading from the site of the injection. Damage tissue sloughs off to reveal new and healthy skin beneath.

"Studies have shown that healing remedies admitted intravaneously are thirty percent more effective and sixty-five percent faster." Kyra notes as she pulls the needle out. The now empty vial is ejected from the gun and stuffed into a pocket on her hoodie. A hand is offered to help him up.

A laugh escapes her. "I don't think anyone I know would describe me as a humanitarian. Opportunist, now, that sounds closer to the truth. If you really are grateful enough for my help to insist on some form of repayment, I would be happy to take it. I am always in need of the strong to help me when my work takes me into dangerous areas with dangerous creatures."

She slips her needlegun away. "But if you refuse, there is really nothing I can do to stop you. I am not so cruel as to lace my cures with biological agents to force you to help me."

Zerum has posed:
The needle is hardly an afterthought, with all other things considered, but there is a silent, mental rejoicing when the major culprits contributing to his discomfort are extinguished, aside from a weak grin to convey his happiness over the fiasco. He's seen things like this happen before, but more often than not it was thanks to spells that spontaneously helped with regeneration, and less so with potions, which took a bit longer. "Hmm. When you ingest things, even if it gets into your bloodstream, some of it gets ruined because it has to go through the digestive system, plus.... as to be expected, this also takes more time."

He agreed with the concepts that Kyra professes, but he doesn't immediately buy into those numbers, if because he hasn't seen the documentation for himself.... It was irrelevant, anyway-- what mattered was that she had a more fruitful medium of transferring the substances into his system, which would allow him to punch through the desolate prairie so that he could go about his business, very shortly. Her laugh causes a very tiny twitch of one eye, due to the fact that he had super-sensitive hearing, and positively-emotionally-charged sounds had a way of irritating him, much like the Dark Elf King, who could one day be unlucky enough to fall victim to a bard, if he wasn't careful; however, there was a more pressing matter to be dealt with, "I'm not refusing or insisting." He finally says, "I don't want to encourage or discourage; I am simply telling you that if you feel it is imperative that I repay you, that I will do so. My feelings on what I prefer should technically count for zero, because I'm not the one who just had to deal with an expenditure on someone else's behalf." He points, "This is all about what you think I should do."

And with that, he folds his arms, showing minimal mirth or misery. "....And for the record, if you went into studying the science of manipulating a person's physiological condition, but you classify yourself as an opportunist, then I'm not completely sold on the idea that you wouldn't be above lacing your agents with something in the same family as sodium pentathol...." Zerum yawns, "....but I'm not sold that you /would/ necessarily do it, either. I haven't made up my mind about you, not by a long shot."

Kyra Hyral has posed:
"Yes! Correct!" Kyra grins, "A portion of the chemical does succumb to digestive enzymes and is rendered inert and ineffective. Directly in the bloodstream there is no such danger." She seems liable to go on further and, in fact, would produce the relevant papers if questioned about the numbers. One such paper would have her own name listed under the authors.

"Then call me an opportunist. Give me a means of contacting you so I may call upon your services in the future. If anything, you seem like someone I might have an intelligent conversation with."

At his accusation of poisoning her own cures, Kyra smiles mysteriously. "Knowledge can be a dangerous thing. But I maintain that if I had such mixtures on my person, they'd only be deployed in the direst of circumstances."

Zerum has posed:
Zerum would certainly have inquiries to make even if he received the papers, for his one calling in life was the pursuit of knowledge, which was only acquired by asking questions; sometimes of others, and even more importantly, perchance, of oneself. For now, he'll trust that her numbers are at least more accurate than the testimonies he might get from somebody off the street, which was almost what she was, if the Thunder Plains had formally paved roads running through it. Normally, Lord Valos was a lover of tutelage, but he wasn't comfortable in a place where he really had no leverage if he somehow managed to provoke her by yoking the wrong words unintentionally.... and while she didn't initially appear the type who was riled swiftly, as he'd stated before, he barely knew the woman; discourse was simply better when his back wasn't against a wall-- or a tower.

To make things more convenient, she asks him for contact information, and he hands her some kind of card that has his name on it, but very little else, which meant that he probably didn't have a phone, and gave precedence to things like Mognet. "I can provide assistance as long as it doesn't violate the terms of any agreement made with other institutions or persons prior to my arrangement with you; I operate on a first-come, first-serve basis." He didn't exactly say /who/ his primary employer was, surmising he even had one, but as of yet, the dark one had shown himself reluctant to give out much information on himself unless asked-- he didn't even confirm what his skillset was when Kyra seemed to hint that she knew he had talents of some brand.

Drumming his index finger wonderingly against the side of his cheek, he gazed upwards whilst exhibiting the signs of someone in a state of consideration, "....Only deployed in the direst of circumstances..... and I suppose, you'd be the judge of when those circumstances presented themselves." Zerum smirks, already beginning to stand, "You may maintain the moon is made of green cheese until you turn blue in the face, if you desire, or you can assert that it's made of rock. No matter what you say, everything that ends up on my plate only gets admittance if I get to add a grain of salt, otherwise it gets sent back to the kitchen, unless the chef has verified to me that he runs a five star restaurant." He bows, "I trust you need nothing more from me at this particular juncture? If you're going my way, you may choose to accompany me, supposing that is your wish-- there's no way that a jolt of energy will seek you out when a seven foot tall slab of metal is right there beside you.... If not, well, I'll make an effort not to lose sleep over the brevity of our encounter."

Kyra Hyral has posed:
New Ramuha was working its way up to formally paved roads. For now it was making do with hard-packed dirt and gravel which, unfortunately, got pretty messy in the rain. They will manage eventually, more sooner than not since paved roads would make material transportation so much easier. That is if they hadn't devised a way to summon items as needed before then or simply stuck to Souji's airship. Unwise to fly in the weather? Maybe, maybe not; his airship was accustomed to bad weather.

Thus far she hadn't seemed the least bit riled by the drow. There is the slightest bit of disappointment, it seems, when she examines the card and realizes there's no phone number on there. While it wasn't a dealbreaker, it made contact a bit more inconvenient for her. "We'd draw up a contract beforehand to make sure you did not encounter conflicts of interest." Kyra offers, pocketing the card of contact information.

"Absolutely, as the keeper of these mixtures, the responsibility falls upon me when and when not to use them. That is an awfully extensive metaphor about food. Are you a food critic?" There is but a brief moment of contemplation before she shakes her head, "No, be well and tread carefully. I have no need to cross the plains myself right now-I have construction and experiments to attend to. But if you happen to be struck again, I would certainly come help."

Zerum has posed:
Paved roads would be an improvement, but Valos wasn't sure when he'd return, so, for all he knew, he might not benefit from them even if they were put into place.... either that, or after several centuries, if he'd returned, maybe the roads that could have supposedly been built could have eroded; things changed comparatively quickly for an individual whose lifespan stretched over the course of many an age. But.... Zerum was still young, for a dark elf, so he had some spark in him, yet, if he was lucky, he wouldn't get anymore, since the thunder had put him through the wringer already. And speaking of being spirited, he tilts his head at her offer to help him if he were to be struck again, at which point something dawns on him. "Hmmm...."

Spinning around on his heels, he sheathes his sword, and faces the tower, then places his hands against it. Either by decree of his possessing greater than average strength physically, or whether he had aid by way of his magnetic powers(probably the latter), he managed to tear free a massive metal panel which left a patch that exposed the circuitry of the pillar. Molding it for a moment, he created yet another conduit which he'd suspend above his head until such time that it was detonated by an especially potent bolt of lightning, on his trip out of the plains; no self-respecting dark knight would be qualified to continue to categorize themselves as a wielder of the dark sword if they were beyond morally questionable vices like vandalism, now and again.

Aside from that, the forgers who made the thing were long dead, and since he suspected nobody had a valid deed of ownership, then he was declaring himself the owner of that piece right then and there! As the thing hovered above his head, Zerum nodded to Kyra, "I am a critic of everything; being willfully negligent in a mental fashion is the absolute best way to allow enemies to fly under my radar. Good day, miss, and thank you for the help." He cants his head over towards the other travelers who were cowering under various towers as they darted between them, and remarks, "As I pass them by, I'll also be /certain/ to commend them for being true paragons of humanity, by being of the mind to watch others' plights sympathetically, and that in the knowing that when it's convenient for them, that they are the sorts to assist sufferers as you have just done!" Well.... isn't that.... nice of him to do. Who says a compliment is good for the soul?