Cogs of War

[Author Roy]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:32 P.M.

A black man with a short afro and garbed in a teal jersey and dark blue jeans sighed as he walked along the streets with his hands in his pockets. On his back he carried two guns - a sniper rifle and a chainsaw machine gun. On his waist he wore a holster that housed a dirty looking revolver and three small cans that looked like tiny fire extinguishers.

Project Roy looked out at the broken, torn city around him as he walked around a crater in the sidewalk. The neighborhood he was in was full of such flaws, with streets that had been heaved up, houses falling apart, and cars lying around in heaps of junk with weeds growing all over the place, and rotting corpses scattered about in various states of decomposition.

The man turned to the east, where he could see the sun slowly setting over the horizon. The planetary ring that stretched around the planet would be reflecting the light of the sun and extending 'daylight' for  another hour or two, but after that, if he hadn't found a new place to stay, his ass was grass.

The man sighed as he continued to walk down the street, looking, turning his head all around as he surveyed houses and other such buildings. He needed something secure, something safe, and hopefully with extra emergency supplies. The creatures of the night of the smarter variety than those of the day, and they were actively hunting him. Hunting his kind, the last of the humans on his planet.

It had only been two months since the invasion, and already his species had been nearly wiped out... or so it seemed, if the grim state of Shindig City was any sign.

They had come from nowhere, all at once, in the dead of night. Project remembered it as well as if it were yesterday, so vividly had the terror been etched into his mind...

Shindig City; Comfortable looking bedroom; Friday November 11th, 12:32 A.M.

Project sat at the edge of his bed, sighed as he rubbed his eyes, dressed in his trademark pajamas. He took the green bathrobe he had on off and set it down on the dresser beside him, then lifted his legs onto the bed and reached over to turn off his lamp just as voices began screaming from outside.

"Goodnight, screaming voices," He muttered as he snuggled his soft pillow, closing his eyes.

Just then, his bedroom window shattered and he heard a loud thump on the other side of the room. It was then that he instantly sat up and laid his eyes on the ugliest creature he'd ever seen in his life...

Shindig City Ruins; Streets; Monday January 21st, 5:33 P.M.

Project shuddered and shook his head. That was not something he was ready to remember. In all his time since that attack, he'd only seen one of those one more time, and he was quite ready to never see one again. That night, he'd done what he had to to survive, then those who had survived on him relied on what remained of the police, sheriff, and whatever other forces remained that had weapons capable of fending off the creatures.

Soon after the invasion, the national guard responded, adding to their strength. Then the Army and the Marines were brought into the most major cities, including Shindig.

But the invaders proved far too mighty for their forces, and now, weapons much like the ones Project carried were strewn about the streets.

It was then that he stopped his walking as the sounds of some creature grunting and growling became evident to him. Project turned to look down the street and saw a huge pile of cars from which the sounds were coming. Grabbing the machine gun from his back, he carefully proceeded towards the sound, noiselessly, and looked over the car.

And then he saw it tearing into a fresh kill. The yellow creature with long, black tipped ears, a flat jagged, white-tipped tail, distinctive brown stripes on its back, razor sharp claws that could deliver electric shocks, and cheeks covered in crimson hungrily bit into its meal, the loud sounds of its mouth smacking and chewing echoing around the entire street. It bit into and visibly pulled on the girl's entrails before ripping them out with a disgusting sounding snap and a spray of fluid. It was hunched over on two legs, as it greedily ravaged the body of a young woman.



It was a dreaded Pikachew, one of the mindless daytime creatures that preyed on humans like himself. It had killed the poor girl it was now helplessly gorging itself on, savoring in the taste of human flesh and blood. Project Roy slowly raised his gun up, quietly, noiselessly, and aimed it at the greedy bastard of a monster, ready to end its sorry existence.

As he did so, he glimpsed the rear window of the car he was using for cover and saw silently creeping up on him something he'd never expected to see use such a tactic.

With a yell, the black man turned and began firing at the second Pikachew as he ran away. The creature was surprised by his attack and was stunned, but only for a moment. As Project ran as fast as he could, he turned to look back and could see the first one climbing over the the cars as the other one shook off the pain of fresh bullet wounds. They were both pursuing him now, two large, deadly creatures bent on tearing him to shreds and devouring him bit by bit as one had been doing to another poor woman not so long ago.

[Xero]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:34 P.M.

A white man with shoulder-length, slicked-back blonde hair - clothed in black jeans and a dark green tank-top - hefted his weapon back onto the holster on his back and instead grabbed the shotgun from its place at his side. The smoking corpse of a large, vicious looking bird with large hole digging into its chest was laying on the ground. It'd only been quick thinking, getting the hell out of the way, quick aiming, and the telltale sound that fast moving objects always made that saved him.

The shotgun was a AA-12 Fully Automatic, capable of firing three hundred rounds a minute. When he'd first heard of it, the man had thought such a weapon was pure overkill, and that M.P.S. was crazy for developing it. But who's laughing now, with this monster invasion bearing down on the world? Well, nobody was laughing right now, but he imagined that M.P.S. would be if it turned out their ridiculous weapons ended up saving the world.

His other weapon was just as insane, naturally made by the same company, if undeniably helpful in keeping him alive this long. The weapon now resting on his back was an odd cross between a harpoon gun, and a stun gun. The weapon would fire the harpoon-like bolt - it was only around half the size of an actual harpoon - and then deliver enough voltage to kill a man if turned onto its maximum setting. Unfortunately, what he was using it on were much, much worse than men.

The man, who went only by the name "Xero" for unknown reasons, did his best to ignore the decay around him and instead focused on keeping his guard up. These monsters weren't generally subtle, at least not the one he had so far encountered, but it never hurt to be on guard. A few tense, silent moments later, and he heard the sound of running footsteps up ahead from behind a large pile of debris.

Moving around it, he was greeted by the sight of a black man with an afro being chased by two of the large yellow monstrosities. If he recalled, it was called a Pikachew, and the buggers were mainly just daytime ravagers. It was at night when the real horrors came out... Shaking away the brief memories of creatures he'd barely managed to evade, Xero briefly mulled over what he could do to help. There were two of them, and the other man that was getting closer by the second was armed as well... One on one would be bad enough, one on two nearly impossible. But, two on two could just maybe work out.

The only question was did he throw himself in danger, or did he simply walk away? Not having time to dwell on it, Xero just muttered a quick comment of "Fuck it." and jumped out from behind the twisted pile of rocks and metal scrap, waiting for a clear shot that wouldn't hit the man he was trying to save. Seeing a brief window of opportunity, he opened fire on one of the Pikachew that had strayed off a bit to the right while pursuing the man.

Several rounds hit the creature, sending it tumbling across the ground as the rapid impacts screwed up its pursuit and caused it to trip. If it wasn't a deadly creature, he would have laughed at the comical sight of it fumbling over itself and rolling across the shattered street.

[Jupiah]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:32 P.M.

A young girl wandered the ruined streets, eyes downcast and legs moving jerkily. She wore a black shirt under a tight denim overall skirt, with a bulging fanny pack around her waist, fingerless gloves and plain sneakers. The childish outfit was completed by the thigh high purple socks and large ribbon keeping her short bushy brown hair out of her face. The young teen was very cute - or at least, she would be, if her clothing wasn't covered with scorches and bloodstains.

And if that didn't cue you in that there was something wrong with her, her haltering walk, and distant, haunted stare should do the trick. Most convincing of all however, was probably the large tank of petrol strapped to her back. A thick cable extended from the tank, connecting to a intimidatingly large flamethrower held in her arms. The weapon was quite battered, and had clearly been used many times before. She seemed to be having a slight bit of trouble moving under it's weight, but despite this, she hefted the weapon expertly, obviously skilled in it's use, and ready to prove it at a moment's notice.

The girl muttered incoherently to herself as she walked, seemingly oblivious to the outside world.

A faint skittering noise echoed from a nearby trash can, and she instantly leveled her flamethrower at it. Several long, painful seconds passed - the girl didn't so much as blink. Finally, a small, harmless rat scurried away into the brush.

Far from being relieved, the girl instead clutched a her right arm, staring intensely at the long scar running across it. She grimaced in imagined pain, recalling the close call she'd had with a pair of Ratikills a month before. They'd come at her out of nowhere, attacking her without mercy with their brutal oversized fangs.

She'd nearly lost her arm to them.

She'd gotten the last laugh though. Chuckling in a rather disturbing manner, she pulled a gory necklace out of her overall skirt, running her fingers over the bloody claws that she'd strung together. Oh yes, she had proven herself the stronger then. More determined, more powerful. More bloodthirsty.

She could still smell the burned fur and flesh. She could still hear the oversized rats screeching, desperately clawing at the concrete in a futile attempt to escape her purging flames. The memories made her smile, a crooked, twisted smile, not meant to ever grace the face of such an innocent looking young girl.

The sound of gunshots suddenly shook her out of her reverie. Frowning, she began walking again, heading towards the sounds at a brisk pace. She soon found herself on an abandoned street much like the one she'd previously been traversing, but this one filled with more abandoned vehicles, culminating in a massive pile of them in the distance.

Curious, she peaked around a car, and immediately discovered the source of the gunshots. A man with an enormous frizzy hairstyle and several large guns was running roughly towards her on the other side of the street, pursued by two monstrous pokebeasts. Pikachews, she noted.

She giggled at the sight. The way the man's oversized hair bounced on his head was enormously funny, and she couldn't stop watching it. Up and down, the large ball of hair undulated outwards with each heavy, desperate step. She began to hope he could outrun the beasts, because she really wanted to run her hands through his frizzy hair. Yes, that would be fun!

She suddenly jumped as more gunshots rang out. It hadn't been the man being chased - he was running far too desperately to have shot at the beasts on his tail. She didn't get a chance to look for the source though.

The afro-man shot past her hiding spot, passing within 20 feet of her, one of the beasts still hot on his tail. The other one, however. . . the second unfortunate beast fell to the ground, tumbling head over heels. It rolled to a stop right before her, struggling to stand back up despite the large number of bullet wounds riddling it's body.

"Ooh" she said pleasantly, lifting her flamethrower and centering the barrel on the beast's prone form, "A present for me? You shouldn't have!"

She pulled the trigger, and a stream of liquid fire shot forth from her weapon, hitting the monster directly. The creature screamed horribly, an high pitched inhuman wail of agony. She kept the trigger held, following the monster with a smile as it struggled to move away from her, claws digging into the asphalt in a desperate attempt to escape the inferno.

She didn't let up until well after the creature had stopped moving and she was certain it was dead. She'd been fooled by a beast playing dead once before and nearly payed for it with her life, a mistake she wasn't going to make again. She carefully inspected the corpse from a distance.

Satisfied that the burning, acrid corpse was truly dead, she hopped cutely, pumping one hand into the air. "Yeah!"

Ecstatic from her victory, she turned to see if the man with the afro was still alive.

[Author Roy]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:34 P.M.

Project Roy ran as if his life was on the line even after he heard the pained screeching and shrieking, which it was. The telltale heavy pounding against the ground and the sound of sharp claws scraping across pavement met his ears and he knew that one of the yellow bastards was still hot on his tail. Project quickly jumped to the side and rolled, using the traction to stop his momentum. The pokebeast overshot him and started to very quickly adjust its course, turning around in place without slowing down despite its considerable girth and speed, in plain defiance of the laws of physics.

By then Project had already pulled the trigger on his gun, and he sprayed the filthy flesh eating monster with as many bullets as he could before it became obvious that the damned thing wasn't going to slow down. He ducked and jumped to the side again just in time to dodge the beast, and it swung overhead, swinging its bloodied claws before it. It cut clean through the remnants of an army truck, and rolled in the air before turning to face him and landing on its feet. The beast bared its fangs and claws at him and let loose a soul-shattering roar-shriek that could only have come from the depths of hell, spittle blasting forth and hitting him square in the face.

But Project had not been sitting idly, and now in his hands he held the instrument of its death. Roy peered through the scope of his sniper rifle and quickly, skillfully lined the creature's face up with the center of the scope. He pulled the trigger and the resulting shot echoed throughout the streets as the round lanced through the top of its open mouth and into the base of its brain. The creature's eyes dimmed, free of life, and it fell down to the ground near instantly and he quickly swapped his rifle for his machine gun. The man stood up and wiped his face as clean of spittle as he could while dirt fell down to the ground from his clothes and hair.

He kept an eye on it as he shook his head, flinging more dirt and pebbles around and quickly looked around the vicinity while slowly backing away from it, keeping his gun trained on it just in case it was playing dead. It or at least one of them had tried to sneak up on him, so he wouldn't have been surprised by any similar tactics now. Well, maybe he would have, since he wasn't used to them being able to think beyond screaming, maiming or killing, and eating, but he knew to expect more from them now.

Satisfied that this one was indeed dead, he looked up the street and saw the two people who had helped him, appearing one after another. A strange looking girl with a denim dress looking thing and a flamethrower, and a man in a dark green tank-top and black jeans. While keeping his eye on the pikachew still just in case, he started walking towards the nearest one, the girl.

On some level, he was a bit happy to see that there was not only one, but two other survivors in the area. The last few people he had teamed up with were killed, devoured by the daytime creatures or slaughtered by those that ruled the night.

"'Ey, thanks for the save," Project said with a nod.

[Jupiah]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:35 P.M.

The girl smiled shyly, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

"You're welcome," she responded softly, before suddenly speaking up much louder. "That was cool! You're cool! How'd you do all those cool flips and stuff? Are you a marine or something?

She paused for a second, working up the courage to ask the most important question.

"Can I touch your hair?!" She asked excitedly, staring intently at his afro.

[Author Roy]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:35 P.M.

"Actually, I was a champion Detroid Crime Hunters, Cogs of War, Murderzone 2 and Palo 3 player," He said, shrugging. "It didn't exactly translate to using a real gun as easily and quickly as I thought it would, but I've got the hang of it now." Of course, though he'd said 'champion', the truth was that his highest ranking in any of the games was only 246th best in the world overall, with a ranking of 142nd in headshots. He was a regional champion at best, and at those numbers, it was still easy to be moved up and down just during the week.

Still, his experience was turning out to be serving him well.

"And..." He blinked at her last, odd request. It was something that people had been asking a lot of him since the whole thing started, as if they'd never seen a damn afro before. "Maybe later on the hair thing," He said. "It'll be better when I get time to pick it out, anyway." He turned and looked at the other man, who was approaching. "Name's Project. So are you two together or something?"

[Xero]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:35 P.M

As Xero approached the two other survivors, the newcomer girl that had finished off the pikachew he'd tripped up looking somewhat absurd with the large flamethrower strapped on, he noticed the black man turn to look at him before asking a question.

The blonde man rested his shotgun against one shoulder and shook his head in response, taking the moment to examine the two more. They looked pretty normal to him, exactly like one would expect from survivors. "Not unless she was part of a large group that had banded together a few weeks ago. Which is unlikely, since I'm fairly sure at least ninety percent of them are dead."

He briefly examined the girl closer, trying to see if he'd seen her in the crowd of people he had been a part of those short few weeks ago. Drawing a blank, he decided he must either not remember - understandable considering all the crazy shit that had happened - or the girl was some random survivor. After a moments pause, he decided he might as well introduce himself.

"I'm Xero, and yes, its an obviously fake name."

[Ebony Debony]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:36 P.M.

As Xero introduced himself to the others and began conversing, all present failed to notice a Pikachew slowly creeping from behind a nearby, overturned car. As quietly as it could, the beast attempted to sneak up on the pair by diving behind another nearby smoldering vehicle. However, just before it could strike out, it suddenly found a small, silver, and black hilted knife embedded in its throat. The Pikachew only had a few milliseconds to be surprised before the knife beeped but once and both the creature and knife exploded in a brilliant, gory display.

"Hehehehehehehe," a short man of obviously Latino descent chuckled insanely as he approached the group. That man was donning what appeared to be a long, black pea coat, a red scarf that covered his mouth and nose, a white dress shirt, a pair of denim blue jeans, and a pair of black combat boots. For all intents and purposes he looked like an average, lanky guy, with short cropped jet black hair and hazel eyes. However, what was not exactly normal was his metallic doll like hands, the black, skull and crossbones eye patch he wore, and the insanity that twinkled in his visible eye.

"Gentlemen, and lady, I would humbly suggest that you take your conversation somewhere a bit more...secure?" the man stated with another demented chuckle as he motioned toward the crumbling remains of a nearby movie theater that appeared to be in better shape than most of the other buildings present. "I've already cleared that place out and set up traps, so, if you wish to talk, I suggest following me into my humble abode," the tan skinned man stated as he began to walk toward the building as the large neon sign over head, which read "Harlequin Theater", flickered in and out of existence.

[Jupiah]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:36 P.M.

The young girl pouted when the man named Project finished introducing himself. He was just a great big disappointment! She'd been hoping he was someone cool, like a fireman, or a professional UFC competitor, or a ninja, or a time traveling assassin. Professional gamers were nerds!

And he wouldn't even let her touch his hair! She didn't care if it was dirty. Bloodstains gave you character, she thought, running her fingers through her own gore stained locks.

She listened to the other two men speak for a bit with some annoyance, and objected to their conclusion that she might have met Xero before.

"Hmph. Sorry, but I've never seen him before, and I normally travel alone." She spoke matter of factly, arms crossed before her and flamethrower now hanging from a strap below it's fuel tank. "It's best not to get into big groups - you'll only attracts the really, really big monsters. The last group I was part of tried to escape on a boat across the channel to the mainland . . . "

The girls brought her hands together in a pleading fashion, eyes starting to water as she recalled the horror. "We were attacked by a Gore-ados. It tore apart the ship with a single swing of it's tail, and started plucking the survivors out of the water. And then - and then . . ."

Her eyes widened in an almost worshipful awe, and her voice became quiet. "The Silver Winged Storm God appeared. He clashed with the Gore-ados . . . it was like a dream. I've never seen anything else so beautiful in my life. The ocean's raged, and blue flames burned even the water. The Storm God was hit by a brilliant beam of energy, but shrugged it off with a magnificent roar. It flapped it's wings, and the Gore-ados died in a titanic blast of wind."

Breaking from her reverie, the girl turned back to her audience and grinned exuberantly. "The tidal wave crushed the few survivors that remained. I'm not sure how I lived - I woke up on a beach a few days later."

Before either man could respond, a large explosion rang out, and gory yellow furred bits of flesh rained down upon the trio. The girl didn't so much as flinch, instead looking curiously at the strange man that was now approaching them.

She gasped in shock. The way he was dressed, the eyepatch he wore - could he possibly be? A pirate?!

She stared at him in fascination as he spoke to them, and wordlessly followed him when he moved towards the oddly well-kept theater.

[Lathis]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:37 P.M.

The darkly clad figure watched the small gathering of people down below.  She clung expertly to the shadows as she studied them, as she didn't want to have this pack of potentially unstable people start unloading ammo at her because they saw a glimpse of movement.  They did seem to know what they were doing, though, and they seemed to be packing enough weaponry to arm a small commando force.  It had been sometime since she'd worked with others, going back before even the fall of the world to those unholy beasts; the nature of her work tended to leave her quite isolated and she'd gotten used to it.

Still, the ridiculously powerful firearms the group was toting was a large step up from her own weaponry.  She glanced at the Naginata held in her white knuckled grip, the ninja-to hanging from her waist and the compound bow hanging from her back.  Certainly, the metal and techniques used in their construction was far more cutting edge than their appearance would suggest, but even her skills had continued to fall short when it came to dealing with these poke-beasts.

Sighing, she finally relented.  As much as she prized her secrecy, it just wasn't logical to continue trying to survive on her own any longer.

Moving as silently as she could, so as to not draw any attention before she was easily visible, she closed in on the group before finally stepping out and waving tentatively to the gathered people.

"Konnichiwa?"

[Xero]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:36 P.M

Xero nodded at the girls statement that being in a large group only made the worse monsters come after you, having learned that the hard way himself. It was rather odd that a small group could survive better than a large group, as that completely went against the "safety in numbers" rule that many regarded as simple, universal fact.

He turned with a small amount of surprise as a very unusual man appeared, and proceeded to suggest they hide in a nearby building. Before anyone could respond, however, another person appeared. The voice gave away the speaker as both a girl, and likely foreign since they were speaking Japanese. He briefly considered trying out his rusty language skills, before deciding this was no time for messing around.

"Looks like a lot more people have survived than I had thought, if so many of us are in one spot and its not merely coincidence."

[Ebony Debony]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:37 P.M.

Captain Abraham Orchid, or Abes as he was known to his friends, stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a language that he had hoped he never would have heard again.

"AR! WHO BE SPEAKIN' THE DEVIL'S LANGUAGE (Japanese) 'ROUND THESE PARTS?!" the Captain bellowed, his visible eye practically bugging out of his skull as his face went blood red in colour, as he turned around to glare at the new arrival to the group and, upon locating her, growled. "HOW DARE YE' SPEAK THE LANGUAGE OF THOSE BLOODY DOGS O' FILTH WHO CREATED THIS MESS?!" the Captain bellowed once more as he stalked over to the girl, making sure to keep his distance once he noticed her weapon, and spit on her shoes.

"You'll be watchin' yer tongue 'round me, lass. We only speak Indo-European languages 'round these parts, do ya' understand?" the Captain inquired as he placed his hands on his hips and continued to glare at the girl. After a second, however, his gaze softened and he apologetically whispered, "Sorry 'bout that lass, but I'm a wee bit sensitive when it comes to all things Japanese. Kinda have a grudge, ya' know? Anyway, I've got some wipes at my little fort over yonder that you can use to wipe that up."

[Lathis]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:38 P.M.

Izumi stared at the oddly dressed man that had spit on her shoe.  On one hand, he had yelled at her vehemently, but on the other hand, he then turned around and began speaking in a calm, sedate manner, thus leaving her with completely mixed signals on what he was saying.  As such, she did the only thing she could think of.

She shrugged, smiling and nodding.  ". . . Hai . . . domo . . ."

[Author Roy]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:37 P.M.

Project had been a bit surprised by the nearby sound of an explosion of some sort, and had quickly turned, aiming his gun in the direction appearance of the latino guy, then heard the girl's reaction to his introduction and been surprised again, but shrugged it off, as he was somewhat used to it. That weird thing she described had sounded pretty weird though, he'd never heard nor seen anything like it... But by the time he could consider her words, someone else appeared.

Project frowned as he looked around. Where were all of these people coming from? Especially so disjointed as they were? Were they... were the pokebeasts using some sort of new tactic to get to him? He supposed it made sense, but what sort of pokebeast could do that? Was it... one of the pokemen?

He'd seen them before. Beautiful creatures, with no indistinguishable gender, save for their warriors. Green and white flesh, appearing to meld into an elegant dress that flowed away from their body, with green hair and red eyes, while those who were visibly warriors had blades extending from their elbows. They all had the red... metallic looking thing jutting from the center of their chests, warrior or not. They had been there on the first night of the invasion, fighting alongside the pokebeasts, but in a cold, calculated manner that said something about their intelligence being far greater than the mindless horrors they fought with.

He'd seen one lift a screaming man up into the air and then simply... explode the poor guy with nothing more than hand gestures, from a distance. Luckily Project had been far enough away and the pokeman was more than pleased to slaughter those within slaughtering distance instead of chase after him.

Shaking his head, Project instead looked at the newest girl and took in her appearance as the man who'd called himself Xero stopped talking. She held a naginata in her hands, had a ninjaken attached to her waist, and a compound bow on her back. Project blinked at that; he'd given up on the whole melee thing early on, as the few swords he found lying around, having been used by the Army's "Combative Black-Ops" or "Ninjacorp" as they'd come to be called by some people, had been unwieldy for him, far too different from the double wakizashi combo he had begun to learn to use with his own style after playing Ninja Legends and Ninja Legends 2 so many years ago, incorporating his knowledge of the basics of kendo, aikido, karate, and jujutsu. Surprisingly still, they'd worked for him for some of the creatures - up until a pikachew had decided to cut the blades he'd found into sections using only its claws. That had been unpleasant.

And to think everyone he knew had ridiculed him for 'swinging those things around like a lunatic' at some point or another. He was no Ryui Kusabusa, but his techniques had worked all the same.

Still, to see someone who had survived only with the 'primitive' tools that were often ridiculed as being anachronistic was rather heartwarming, he thought. A shame she didn't appear to have a bo-staff or nunchaku on hand, but you take what you get.

"I'm going to go ahead and assume you don't speak English," Project said, looking at the nervous girl, who had by now been yelled at by the crazy lookin' guy. At least she hadn't said 'Nihao'... "So... let's see..." He'd begun to learn the language when he was thirteen, after watching some anime and playing some video games, and now the skill that everyone had for years touted as being useless to him... was finally going to pay off... aside from letting him translate manga and letting him play foreign games before localization.

The question was, what to say? He'd never actually dealt with a Japanese person before, aside from his professors and a couple of good friends; 3chan didn't count. So the social awkwardness thing was likely going to come out, here.

"Yō, ore no namae wa Purojekkuto. Omae wa dare da? Kono henjin no shiriai ka?" (Yo, name's project. Who are you? A friend of that weird guy?) He asked, pointing at the latino with a thumb.

It was probably a good idea to take that latino guy up on his invitation though, as crazy as he'd looked. If she didn't know him, then he'd have to tell her the guy was offering them a place to stay.

[Lathis]

Shindig City Ruins; Monday January 21st, 5:39 P.M.

Izumi considered the man with the very large, poofy looking hair.  He apparently understood japanese, which was a great stroke of luck with her.  Still, she wasn't that great in social situations at the best of times, so she answered as succinctly as she could.

"Aisatsu."  She then gestured to herself.  "Izumi"  She then gestured to the eye patch wearing man.  "Dame desu."

She then shrugged and began to follow the eyepatch wearing man.  She had no idea what he was saying, but his body language made it more than clear that he wanted them to follow him towards the building he was gesturing to.