Mikh'a

[align=center][/align] Willow tree. c:

Oooh. Definitely going to try to make it to this one ICly. I've missed all the other ones up to this point. @_@ I REGRET EVERYTHING. Would be willing to help with the guard duty to help move the lowbies if needed, too! ( And possibly throw some of the rest of the Dauntless your way if needed, and they're willing. )

[video=youtube] Mikh'a's song. c:

All the people. The list is too long. I just want to meet and RP with all the people. 8D

Late signing up but if you'll have me I want to join as Mikh'a. c:

[align=justify]Mikh'a looked like he had been punched in the gut. Erik's staying hand on his shoulder offered no comfort when Nako'li gave them the information he had been dreading to hear and the boy's heart dropped as he stared at the strange Keeper in front of him. He couldn't fight the tremble that rose up in his form, which could thankfully be mistaken for his small body being subjected to the extreme cold temperatures they were forced to endure in Ishgard for as long as they had been out there. As if sensing Mikh'a's distress Brynjar shifted over closer to the boy and Erik, nudging his nose against gloved fingers. Absently Mikh'a's hand curled along the scaly nose and he let out a slow breath. Nako'li's changing body temperature was enough to snap him out of his daze, though even as steam rose slowly around him in the raging storm the boy couldn't be deterred from his upset. He gazed a moment in confusion, as if he needed to catch up mentally or something, and then nodded his head slowly. The word lingered in the air like an ominous, laughing face that only further proved Mikh'a's helplessness. "We have to go get them." he finally said out loud. "We have to go get them... we have to stop this before they find anyone else, and we have to go get get them." Those big pink eyes were wide and desperate as he looked between Nako'li and Erik - for now settled and fine with the white haired Miqo'te's presence. Where was Montblanc with the ship? They had to go. They had to go now. "They can't find anyone else. Cliodhna is--" he started, but stopped himself. He didn't want to divulge any details on the health of their comrades. Clio's aether sickness, which he knew Siha would tend to, though it would still need proper care... "Where are we going first?" he finally asked, begging with those eyes. They had to end this before anyone else got caught. Before more damage could be done to their captured men. Their own people. The Immortal Flames did this to their own people. Tortured.[/align]

[align=justify]"Friend is a bold word right now." Mikh'a accused as he looked Nako'li over through the raging storm. Using his goggles to keep out the weather was pointless, they were frosted over and would only hinder his sight even more at this rate. The small Miqo'te eventually did lift his hand however to steady Brynjar who looked ready to pounce and tear Nako'li limb from limb. The drake made a disappointed gesture and bumped his head in to the staying hand that held him back before settling with just lowering his head to peer out from behind Mikh'a at the man in question instead. Go ahead cat. I dare you. It was the question about the others, and the following admission of knowledge regarding Kahn'a and Titor that caused Mikh'a to bristle though and the growl started low in his throat. "Where are they? What's happening?" He shouldn't have asked, he wanted to continue to cling to that slim hope that everything was fine, but he had to know. He was still on the defensive, and it was obvious he hadn't answered Nako'li's own question on purpose. Like hells he was going to up and tell a complete strange where the rest of his broken little family had scattered to. ( Sure they had incorrect information as they were under the impression three of them had gone to the Shroud, but that wasn't the point. ) The man had a lot to prove, especially if Erik didn't speak up in his favor.[/align]

[align=justify]Mikh'a swung his body off of the chocobo as he came to a stop, though he near immediately regretted it. Snow up to his knees, guh. The small Miqo'te internally cursed the twelve and the unjust height they'd cursed him with while looking back to his captain. "Yeah." he said and he sniffed at the air. "Yeah I survived it." This time. Though now that they were far enough away and the rush was starting to wear off the poor boy was shaking - thankfully it could be mistaken for the temperature. He felt dizzy from the rush of it all, and the boy lifted his hand to his forehead while scenting the air. "The mission isn't successful yet though, we're not home, and our names aren't cleared." Erik was still talking. There were still things being said, and if he weren't already cold he'd have had that same sense of ice water filling his blood when Titor's name was dropped as well. How? Why? What were they doing to get caught? Why hadn't they kept their heads low? He vaguely remembered Kahn'a saying something, something about Ul'dah and contacts and a mission that he had to do for Erik. The thought crossed his mind, had Kahn'a been caught on purpose? Had Titor? Was this all part of their captain's elaborate plan to clear their names? Those big pink eyes shifted to look at Erik as he scanned the sky through the storm though as he went to open his mouth he felt a scaly head bump his fingers. Startled, Mikh'a lowered his gaze and set his hand to rest on the drake's head. "Brynjar..." he said quietly, then gave him a pat. "It's okay buddy... we're going home soon..." Mikh'a's heart ached. It was suddenly harder to hold out hope that Kahn'a was being treated to tea and a quiet chat about the Red Wings with Brynjar's appearance. It was just a sorry reminder that Ragnar had said the same thing Kahn'a had. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. "We're going to keep a low profile... and save our men, right?" he questioned Erik though the answer was obvious. The boy nodded his head when Erik confirmed the statement and took a deep breath. "I'll do whatever it takes to get this over with, and clear our names." He scented the air, then whipped his head around. There it was again, carried on the wind. This time it was stronger and no less unrecognizable as the not!Elezen that had been stalking in to the observatory as they were fleeing. He was close by and the boy defensively bared his fangs. The timing was too convenient with what Erik had just said and he was not without caution as he took a step forward, though Brynjar firmly planted his weight between the approaching Nako'li, his charge, and the captain. ( The bird too. ) "Who goes there?" Mikh'a called, grateful for the conjury Siha had taught him as he'd left his book on the ship with Montblanc for the sake of the role Erik had tasked him with.[/align]

[align=justify]Brynjar needed not to be told twice, though it was less because Erik had called to him, and more because the Highlander had scooped his cat up and tossed him on to the back of the bird... and well, you know, that was his cat. And so the drake turned after giving one final, rolling breath of fire out on to the remaining guards, and bound after Erik, Mikh'a, and their mount in to the steadily growing weather beyond the Observatory. He was never coming to Coerthas again, bad things happened every time. Every. Freaking. Time. Mikh'a turned his head though, looking over his shoulder as they sped past Nako'li through the snow. The Elezen body was moving in as they were heading out again and he squinted in the growing storm as the building and its fire faded in to the distance behind them. He could have swore-- but no. It had to have been a trick of the storm. He'd smelled like a Miqo'te as they passed but surely... surely not, he was an Elezen. "Erik!" he called over the howl of the storm as they dove deeper in to its icy grasp. "Were you able to get your transmission out?!" It wasn't what he wanted to ask though. It wasn't even close to what he wanted to ask. There was a gnawing guilt that briefly held him back, and his ears pinned back as he tried to listen. Were there other footsteps following them, crunching in the snow? He was afraid to look back and see an army of Elezen chasing them. Brynjar was on their heels, this much he knew, but what about anyone else? "We have to go back to Thanalan!" he finally begged. "To intercept them before they find out where everyone else went!" As far as he was aware Siha, Cliodhna, and Sieghart had gone to the Shroud, and Osric, Jin, and A'laric had gone to Limsa while anyone else had been told to scatter in Thanalan. He was not aware that not only was the bulk of their broken little family unit in Limsa, but that the Black Chains were technically calling to turn in that direction. His gloved fingers curled in the fabric of Erik's robe and he finally swung his gaze around over his shoulder to search the swirling snow behind them for any sign of a pursuer. He just wanted to get on the Falcon and get back to Thanalan as fast as possible before anyone else was caught, and until then he'd childishly cling to the hope that nothing terrible had happened to Kahn'a. If only Erik hadn't been so grim about it when he'd said something. If only Mikh'a wasn't aware that this was not the first time this had happened to Erik. If only...[/align]

[align=justify]The tower proprietor should have paid more attention to detail. If he hadn't been in such a rush to micro-manage, and take glory, he may have noticed the glowing eye. Instead one of his men took an axe to the face, and he himself went tumbling down the stairs while others were abruptly thrown back. It was becoming a tradition - Mikh'a could not come to Ishgard without being involved in someone's murder. He'd worry about that later, focus on getting back to their friends, clearing their names, and most importantly saving their captured man. ( Men. He wasn't aware beyond Kahn'a, however. ) The word 'run' was punctuated with unneeded urgency, Mikh'a was moving as soon as Erik had finished, the frail kitty moving at a surprisingly swift pace as he damn near kept up with Erik's longer strides. Down the hall, across the landing, down another set of stairs, forcing open a door, and out in to the snow again they went as guards moved to flank them. Their goal was the stables, to get to Fury, and then out again though the bird was already pulling himself free of the loose ties Mikh'a had done ( just in case this situation had occurred ). "Halt!" Mikh'a had nearly gone face first in to a spear, and staggered backwards to avoid it. The wayward soldier not on their heels but instead in front of him had been coming on duty when the alarm had been sounded. The poor guy hadn't stood a chance however because as soon as that spear was pointed at the tiny kitty a burst of fire rolled across the ground and took him from behind before a rather large drake slammed in to him from behind and sent him sprawling face first in to the ground. He was now dead as well, spine snapped from the force, and Brynjar lifted his head as if to look at Mikh'a with an 'I do good?! 8D' look. Mikh'a's gloved hand came out to pat the lizard on his nose once, though that was all he was getting both because they were out of time and because Brynjar suddenly went barreling past both Erik and Mikh'a to put himself between them, and their desired destination of the stable to belch out another roaring blast of fire in order to stave off the pursuing knights. "That's a good enough distraction for now..!" Mikh'a gasped. Fury would be out of his bindings by this point and barreling toward them out of the stables, eager to get to his master. It was time for them to get the hell out of Dodge Coerthas.[/align]

[align=justify]His mind was reeling and it was hard for him to focus. Mikh'a could hear them having conversations with him, and he was having one back, but none of it mattered. All of his responses were distracted and automatic at that point as he led them away from Erik. They were going in circles, they wanted answers he kept telling them he couldn't give them yet. Things about "Ulrich's" research and his time spent in Dravania, and what he could tell them about his findings on the Wyrmking. He tried to brush them off. "Oh no, I'm just a slave, my master doesn't tell me more than minimal information." or "His time with the Dravanians was traumatic, I try not to press him for information on the topic." and truthfully it worked for the most part. It wasn't as if his faked station in life afforded him a lot of room and freedom to be... well, Mikh'a, who did nothing but ask questions and press to the great irritation of some people. His mind was too far away to go in to any detail however. He was fretting for the safety of his little family. Who would they catch next? He took only small comfort in the fact that he had a blind and childish view of the Immortal Flames. ( One due to be shattered at any point in time now. ) Erik had said it was possible they'd look to eradicate the Red Wings, but only as a last resort. Osric had said it was far more likely they'd be debriefed and disbanded and childishly he clung to the hope that this was what was going to happen. That they were talking quietly to Kahn'a, and anyone else that may have been caught and gone unreported to the wayward Red Wings scattered across Eorzea in that timeframe they'd been without contact now. That when they got whatever information it was that Erik was looking for to clear their names they would regroup with Montblanc and Raimy and be on their way to clear their names and be back to business as usual. "--too long, I think I'll go check on it myself." "What?" Mikh'a turned away from the window he had been staring out of. He'd nearly forgot where he was. "I said your master's time was up." "Surely you know as a researcher that these things take more time than a bell or two." Mikh'a started after the Elezen who turned and faced him, looking down at the boy. A hand reached up and snagged him by the chin, turning his face just slightly. "This is my lab, boy, and I have been kind enough, and patient enough, to indulge your master but it is time information is divulged proper, 'else I take matters in to my own hands." "I've told you what I can, and there's nothing more to be said." Mikh'a said firmly and pulled his face out of the man's grip. He rubbed at his jaw with an irritated look, then took a rapid step away as a hand came out to grab at him again. "You will leave my master to his business, you gave him the facilities to use and if it's your social gain from this you're worried about then fear not, you'll have your glory soon enough when he's deciphered his findings!" He was losing his temper, his patience already stretching too thin. Mikh'a may have come far, but he was still in the end the boy trying too much to be like his hero brother while wearing shoes that were far too big for him. Clearly he had lost his verbal sparring opponent's temper as well as an unsurprisingly large Elezen hand shot out and took him at the throat, slamming his small body back against the closest solid object - in this case it just happened to be a bookshelf. Weren't they supposed to be calm, and collected, and put together, and Thal's Balls he could not believe how strong this nerdy Elezen that spent all his time locked in a tower was. Disoriented and vaguely aware that at least two books had dropped on either side of him, Mikh'a finally locked eyes with the man. "I've had enough of a little slave boy thinking he can talk down to me like he's something special. You've tested my patience enough and I've had the good grace to be kind enough to let you do what you think you need to do but you and your master's time is up." He shoved Mikh'a back again for good measure. "You may be spoiled enough to live above your station in your master's company but you will not disrespect me." He pulled the small Miqo'te away from the shelf then and shoved him toward the stairs instead. "Now walk. It is time to have my questions answered." Mikh'a narrowed his eyes stubbornly and for the briefest instance it looked like he was going to pick a fight with the man... but to what end? Straightening up he turned around on his heels and took up a reluctant pace back to Erik again. He knew Erik would know they were coming, that locket was the link they needed for this kind of situation, but he was out of gambits to buy them more time 'lest a certain lazy dragon started terrorizing the town. ( Which Mikh'a sincerely hoped would not happen. ) "Move it." Mikh'a looked over his shoulder hatefully, then started trudging up the stairs as he was given a rough shove to them.[/align]

Erik didn't know. Only two people knew, and Erik was not one of them. They have Kahn'a. It hit him full force, like a ton of bricks. He stood there almost dazed as it sank in. Things Erik said after that sort of faded in and out for the briefest time. Words like rescue him, and better off dead stuck out strongly. He only knew the name Black Chains in passing and yet still he felt like someone had poured ice water in his veins as it all started to sink in. It took the poor boy a second to collect himself, the panicked look on his face telling of everything going through his head in that instance. His hand came up to grip the chain just above the locket as if he were trying to still his trembling though it wasn't working. Calm down. Something about the Elezen. He knew they were out there, he could hear their breathing. What he lacked in good eyesight he made up for in with above average hearing, and smelling. There were quiet whispers between them, nothing that indicated they had heard anything Mikh'a and Erik had spoke of but he was barely paying attention. His gaze swung back around to Erik again. Breathe. His hands moved without even thinking about it. He pulled the chain over his head and secured the locket around his neck. Distract the Ishgardians. Lead them away from the door, don't let them eavesdrop. Mikh'a straightened then when Erik gave the final order and snapped to attention in the first near flawless Flame Salute he'd ever performed before he turned on heel and moved swiftly to intercept the Elezen before any of them made it within proper hearing range of the door. "Ser!" he called in greeting from the doorway. His face was grim though it matched the fabricated task he and his "master" were meant to be performing. "I don't think I caught your name..." the Elezen they'd dealt with initially was trying not to seem nosy, while still doing so. "Apologies. I often forget it's appropriate, most don't ask given my station-- Zana'sae." he gestured. It was the last thing Erik would see of him before the door closed. His voice would fade as he led the group away with an, "My master has need of your--" and then they were moving out of earshot and down the stairs again. It was likely Erik knew now, what he hadn't known before. The look on the poor boy's face was telling. Kahn'a...

Titor too!? A'trus you're a monster. >:C Mikh'a fumbled with the locket. It danced and bounced off of the tips of his fingers as it was tossed to him and he barely caught it by the chain, the object dangling there from the first knuckle of his left ring finger. Nope, still bad at life. The boy groaned in relief and were his ears not already flat from the hat they would have been then. The praise from Erik received a weak smile, not because he didn't appreciate it, but because by the time that door had been locked he was shaking so hard he wasn't sure he could talk. Now that they were alone and the adrenaline could start wearing off his little heart was pounding like a terrified rabbits and he was feeling woozy. The boy was more than grateful for a moment to catch his breath after that little performance and he only hoped if he had to that he could do it again. Digging the eye out of the belt pouch he carefully unwrapped it from its well guarded hiding place and slid it in to place in the locket before he walked over to join Erik again. "What is all of this going to do?" he asked while searching the man's face. Erik had been secretive up to this point, but there they were ready to start and he wanted to know if only so that he could be a little bit more helpful. He did give a long enough pause to admire the telescope, mind you, and were the situation different he might have wanted to climb right up on to it and start picking at how it was put together, how it worked, learning it so he could take it home and replicate it. There was no time for that now, the longer they spent on the run and away from their broken little family the more dangerous this was going to get for them.

Found Jin in Ul'dah the other day. [align=center] "Day Six, they still haven't noticed."[/align]

Mikh'a took to the saddle even as Fury turned his head as if the bird were going to nip at him. There were no ears, he'd have to go for the tail. Instead though he took up a steady pace when Mikh'a climbed atop him and followed his own master's lead, leaving their passenger to himself for the time being. Normally the boy would have been stubborn and walked but now was not the time to have petty arguments with a Chocobo. He was quiet the whole of the ride... Erik was right. There was naught but fear and determination in his eyes as they trudged through the snow toward their intended destination. There was so much to think about, so much to do, and so many variables not to focus on. Don't focus on worry that Raimy's need to focus on unimportant detail could ruin the entire mission. That he, Mikh'a, would fail Erik and have them caught again in Ishgard. Don't focus on what might be happening to Siha, Sieghart, and Cliodnha, on what he'd left behind at the house that might have been incriminating, or on the fact that he still had the satchel of Jin's clothes from his dive off the bridge. Don't wonder what Osric and A'laric will find in Limsa... Don't wonder where Alexei and Setras and Zachary were going to go when they found their squad in danger of being eradicated and the doors of their headquarters in the goblet locked. Don't wonder where Titor had gone. Don't worry after Montblanc... Don't focus on the two most terrifying words Kahn'a could say to him before parting ways to Ul'dah to do what he needed to do. for Erik. Don't worry. Every time someone said that they ended up hurt nearly beyond repair, and he just knew this time was going to be no different than the last. At least he hadn't said 'I'll be fine.' Last time someone had said that they'd died. He looked over his shoulder and scented the air again. Now he knew it for sure, this time he was positive. They were being followed though the force was by no means hostile. In fact it was more likely their pursuing body would fall asleep sooner than it would. It made his lips twitch though he bit back the smile and looked down as Erik pulled Fury around to a stop. He knew his queue, they were close enough to their destination that he could smell them as well. The cold made their scents stand out more, it was like some frozen invitation to find them on the wind, and he eased his tiny frame off of the saddle so that Erik could take his place. Are you ready for our performance? He took in a deep breath of cold air, but then nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be." Mikh'a agreed. He gave Fury a hesitant look, then reached up to take hold of the reins while half expecting a beak to nip at his gloved fingers. Nothing, even the Chocobo was taking a stalwart view to their mission and when he was certain Erik was secure he nodded and trudged forward through the snow the rest of the way to the Observatory. He cast only sideways glances at the guards they passed when they stepped in to the outpost, ignoring their scrutinizing gazes as they turned their heads to follow the strangers passing through their midst. Adventurers were common enough in this part that they were given the grudging pass they needed to continue on to the stables. Mikh'a stopped long enough to let Erik off of Fury at the door to their destination before trudging onward and tying the bird to a stable post. He knew what to do, he knew how to knot the knots in such a way that when called for Fury would be able to free himself to join them. He was a captain's ride, capable of sitting still long enough for them to do the task at hand, and Mikh'a left him where he was with little worry that he'd try to run away. Rejoining “Ulrich”, Mikh'a spared him a cursory glance before pushing the door open to allow him inside first. Following after he took in a deep breath of warm air, disguising his need to take stock of all the scents therein. It smelled like spices and leather for the most part and he was grateful for the heat. They were met again with a scrutinizing gaze from each person directly in range though as soon as a dark haired Elezen stepped forward they seemed to go back to their business. Mikh'a lifted his head to size the man up and was given the same courtesy in return. “And to what do we owe the pleasure of adventurers on our doorstep?” There was a curl of the man's lip and clear disdain in the inflection in his voice. Ishgard may have been considering the opening of its doors to Eorzea but not everyone shared the sentiment of outsiders in their ranks. “We are not adventurers.” Mikh'a said simply, keeping his head high though he would not make eye contact. It was a quirk of his he'd yet to break, though it played well in to the role he'd been given to play. “My master has need of your equipment, we request only a small portion of your time.” “Absolutely not.” He was prepared for this answer, he wasn't so naive to think that they'd just outright let him and Erik do what they needed to do. Ishgard was full of mistrust of outsiders, even here on the outskirts. He wished A'ahdra were there, however. He knew the old man she curried favor with was of some importance to the people, else-wise she wouldn't have had the pull she'd had to leave and warn him of his impending death by lance. Mikh'a's tail twitched and he stood up as straight as he could then as if to try to make his height more intimidating. ( Of course when you aren't even five feet tall it fails miserably. How do Lalafel do it? He would need to study Anzio. ) “No is not an answer we can take, ser. I implore you,” he offered his hands out both in proof that he came in peace as well as if to convey a humble gesture. “Our needs are not only for the good of ourselves, but of Ishgard as well. You see my master here, Ser Ulrich.” he gestured. “The cloak he wears hides scars--” he held his hand up to stop the Elezen from interrupting him. His heart was pounding, he'd rehearsed his story only in his head and it was so hard to keep a straight face. “I'm sure you know there had at one point been an attempt to colonize in Dravania by certain peoples from Sharlayan but dispersed southward to these lands upon invasion rumors through Garlemald.” He had general knowledge of historical events, his time with the Red Wings had prompted him to do more research in to Eorzea and her history. He had to be cautious of what details he delved in to, he knew, lest he say something that he could not give answer to. Still, he took a breath and continued. “Ser Ulrich stayed behind initially, though as Ishgard knows the Dravanians are not always the friendliest creatures.” This was not necessarily true, he didn't know much about them personally but he did know Ragnar enjoyed spending time in Dravania. ( He didn't know WHAT Ragnar did while he was there, just that he'd liked the time he'd spent wandering the area. ) “However, my master has unearthed information regarding the Wyrmking of the Horde.” He may have been privy to some information that even Erik was not, though it was highly doubtful give his captain having his hands in just about everything, and rightfully so given their job to Ul'dah and Eorzea herself. Mikh'a's source of information came from his sister and her fondly coined “old man”. He waited then and watched the Elezen's face. There was a long pause between the two of them and then the Elezen stepped forward with narrowed eyes on the boy who held fast to his position. “And what information is this?” Mikh'a shook his head. “My master does not speak, barely even to me. I have told you what I can. I know little more than this, though the matter is pressing enough that if the information is not researched in full as swiftly as possible and the unthinkable comes to pass it may well be on our heads – yours, mine, and Ser Ulrich's – that we did not divulge the facts swiftly.” He held his breath then and watched the proprietor of the tower. When it looked as if his attempts were still not solid he moved on to further say, “Of course should the information we have prove valuable it would need to be someone hailing from Ishgard to take it to the Holy See... I'm sure that person would curry good favor in their honor... unless of course that information is lost forever.” There it was, the proper ego stroking. The Elezen's face twitched before he stepped aside then with an arm held out to present the way to Mikh'a and Erik. “Of course.” he agreed quietly. “It would be a shame if valuable information regarding our personal war were to be lost. I will gladly oversee your findings for Ser Ulrich.” “I will report them to you promptly.” Mikh'a said, then looked up to Erik again with a nod to lead forward. For now they had access, though he knew they'd need to work swiftly before suspicions arose again when it was later discovered they weren't actually working on such a high task.

It was lucky Mikh'a had taken his Flames pearl out long before this. The less he knew about what was happening the easier it would be for him to play his role. The distraction could prove disastrous, and it was the last thing they'd need at this point. He could not mess this up. He wouldn't press Erik's distracted look, but instead had headed away from his captain to make preparations for their trip to the observatory. Whatever was there that they were looking for, it had to be important.. he just hoped it wouldn't take undue time to locate. The longer they were separated from one another the harder it was going to be for all of them, and he knew it. They'd start to fret, the panic would set in, and they'd lose focus after a time. Mikh'a pulled on heavier clothing long before Dragonhead came in to view - something simple but efficient, that displayed the station he was playing without making it look like he was some kind of waif. ( Not that he didn't regularly, but you know. ) He'd decided against giving Montblanc Siha's books, just in case. Instead he'd carefully hidden them in a way he'd be able to pick them up again later on his own. He knew she'd fret that they weren't where he'd promised to put them but necessary evils were necessary, and the boy tugged a hat down over his head that squished his ears flat. He slid the goggles on again - why take risks in the snow with his already poor eyesight? - and then crouches in front of the still trembling Mammet. "Hey." he poked at its little chest. "You'll be alright too. Stop shaking like that, only I'm allowed to do that sir. And don't get eaten by the Chocobo, I'm pretty sure between you and me we'd be the equivalent of Gyshal Greens to them if they could get their beaks around us." YES. He was trying to rally a Mammet. ¬_¬ Standing again though he adjusted his gloves and headed to meet Erik and Raimy on the ground. The snow was halfway to his knees, the inconvenient life of being short, and he gave a grateful grunt while tugging at the mouth of his boot. Those WERE up to his knees, so he was luckily not going to end up with snow in his shoes. The faster they got out of the snow and in to the Observatory the happier he was going to be. He scented the air and halted however... He knew where they were. He knew exactly where they were... A malm. A malm from Ragnar's grave. He'd paced the area for hours after he'd been taken north to it. There was a lingering, familiar scent on the wind. Someone, or something he knew had been there in the last day or so. Brynjar. The boy gave pause long enough to squint in to the distance and straighten up while trying to scan the snowy landscape before he turned around again and stepped to his captain. "Remember." he said to Raimy. "Confidence. We'll meet up again after you've delivered the letter... right?" he tilted his head to Erik for confirmation.

If Mikh'a knew what was going on with Kahn'a right now, so help him A'trus he would bite you so hard. The tiny ginger considered for a moment what Erik had to tell them. Ulrich. They were to call him Ulrich, he was a mute, and Mikh'a would be his voice. So it came to pass he'd have to play the diplomat, and the poor little halfbreed was more than apprehensive about the path set for him. He had to laugh, however. "Your slave?" It was just a funny situation to him, that was all. It was better to have a light heart in this situation, that was for sure; as soon as they landed their daunting task would begin. "Zana'sae." he said finally. "I don't need a last name, it's not relevant. If I'm a slave my name would be my master's house." He was not so naive not to know this. He gave Raimy a look however, one that was uncharacteristic coming from him to the Elezen. "Don't over think the task, don't fret about it, and don't act like you're going to fail. If you do, you will, and I have faith in you." Titor wasn't there to pick up Raimy's spirits and the task fell to him whether he liked it or not. Looking back to Erik again he said, "I assume I should be vague but forceful when it comes to your needs with the instruments, the more important it seems with as little information put in to it as possible the more urgent the matter will come across." Sure he was young, but his time spent already in the company of the Red Wings had afforded him so much training, and he'd wizened up to the life he'd inserted himself in to over the last several months. He had a role to fill, and he was learning how to fill it as swiftly and efficiently as possible. If only the people that were working so hard to train him could see him now. ( LOOK AT HIM KEEPING HIS HEAD UNDER PRESSURE GUYS. LOOOOOOOK. ) "How long to Ishgard? I'm assuming Montblanc will be watching the ship for us? Or is he on his own mission?"

Mikh'a frowned as the eye came out, hand coming out to close around it as it was passed to him. It was a heavy task, he knew the weight of what the artifact could do, moreso than others might have, and his ears pinned down against the sides of his head as he nodded. "I will." the boy promised, giving a glance over his shoulder toward Raimy as if half expecting something to come from him that wasn't necessary to the situation before he turned back again to their captain. "I'm sure you have a backup plan if something happens should you need it and we get separated so I won't press about it." Though it was obvious he wanted to. He could be so like Siha it was hard to believe they weren't blood related. Instead he started digging in to his belt pouch before pulling out small cloth he wrapped the fake eye in and continued talking instead. "You know pretty much everything so I'm sure you already know that I've got to keep my head lower than low while we're in Ishgard." Blowing an Inquisitor and his household to Kingdom Come was not exactly what one would call a friendly act. Mikh'a shifted his weight as he secured the eye and then looked over his shoulder again toward Raimy though it was to Erik he continued to speak. "What will they know, do you think, about who tried to frame us in Ul'dah? You said you had informants there." He knew very little for the time being about the political side of their job, still far too fresh a face in the Immortal Flames to be little more than a tiny nuisance of a stumbling private. He'd know in due time, just not yet. "Will you have us split up when we get there to cover more ground or..?" He vaguely wondered if Raimy as an Elezen would have the most fruitful pull from their hunting.

If Mikh'a knew what Raimy was thinking... Now was not the time to start fighting though, so it was good he did not. The frail boy secured the hatch as soon as Erik was inside, the ship out of the loading bay by the time it had clicked in to place. He was no pilot and wouldn't even attempt to interfere as he headed swiftly for the deck of the ship while tugging a pair of goggles over his eyes. ( Wind resistance plus cool, after all. ) His ears flexed and he leaned against the side of the ship to survey the rooftops of the Goblet as they rose skyward, making a mental note to tie his hair away from his face. His time on the ship was minimal and never airborne, were the situation not so dire he'd have been a lot more excited about their little trip to the north. He scanned steadily for figures of interest, anything that might need notes made even as they pulled away from their home and Mikh'a let out a slow and apprehensive breath while reaching for a portable telescope from the nearby pouch hanging. They had better surveillance, he knew, but this was good for close range. His next goal however was to find out why. Why Ishgard. What could they possibly find there to help them clear their names in Ul'dah? He'd have to keep his head low, if not only for his own sake but A'laric and Sieg's as well. "Erik--" he turned to find the captain, big pink eyes searching for orders. He wouldn't mess this up.

Mikh'a was getting impatient. It didn't take that long to pick up the notes and hide them, they were at no risk of being read or decrypted in any case. The tiny ginger cat shifted his weight as he paced away from the now locked front door and glanced back toward the tail end of the headquarters that led to the rest of the building. "Come on." he complained. Raimy wasn't his favorite person in the world, and he wasn't making a better case for himself by taking his sweet time on this. Finally, and with a frustrated sigh, Mikh'a paced back through the end door and down to the long term lab, pushing the door open. "Let's move it, Raimy! We've wasted enough time!" He didn't bother to go in, there was no point, their time at the house was up and they needed to leave.

Captain Fail

Heeey, I wanna join. c:

Mikh'a wanted to protest - the Flame hall?! It was pointless, Erik was going to do what he needed to do and it wasn't any more than tired fears. Their captain was fully capable of his task, the ginger kitty was just the type to fret. Left to their own devices, Mikh'a had given Raimy a simple task after their return to the Goblet: Secure Titor's notes then meet in the basement. It wasn't something that could be easily screwed up given the encrypted methods Titor used as it was to keep his notes secret and safe. It was only busy work, Raimy's sheer lack in self confidence made it difficult to task him with things. Mikh'a himself had made necessary preparations in certain people's rooms to confiscate any incriminating evidence of well... anything... before near cleaning out any mobile medical supplies they'd need. He'd discarded his Flames uniform for something more practical for the colder weather they were diving in to. ( It helped he needed to conceal his identity, wanted for murder based on visuals alone. ) Slinging the pack of medical supplies over his shoulder the tiny kitty's ears pinned to his head as he stepped back out again in to the foyer of the hall and gave a look around. The plan was to regroup inside the house and head to the ship through the basement entrance but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to go so much more wrong, so quickly. Erik's dream was so telling thus far it was hard not to succumb to the creeping fear and the boy did everything in his power to hold it together while moving to lock the front door. No reason not to take extra precaution, there was no way the Flames weren't going to come beating down their door to find them soon enough and those members of the Red Wings not present would do well to stay away until things had been fixed.

Mikh'a shook his head as he followed Titor back in to the room.“We can't use our ship.” he said as his ears pinned to his head. “We're being sent on a mission by a piece of paper that has no face, no name, they've robbed us of our important assets, and we're moving technology that's banned in to a city state that doesn't much like what we're moving. Plus the guy smelled...” he frowned. “Off. I don't know. I don't like the way he smelled, it was just...” He bristled and then paced away from Titor so that he could perchon a chair, elbows on his knees and tail twitching behind him. “I don't know. I can't explain it, it's off.” It helped that the smell of lavender had been forever traumatized in his mind, but even then it was just weird for him. “But orders are orders and like Erik said... we're soldiers. We go where we're told without question.” ...which was why he was a terrible soldier. ( And in someone'sopinion a terrible scientist. ) All he ever did was ask questions. “It's not suspicious at all to you?”

I got a few shots of the earlier event I can post in a bit. I ended up making it to the early one but not the actual later scheduled event. ;____; However, it was still fun! Got to meet a bunch of new people. ;3