With one of the constructs taken down, Charva rushes up to the other prisoner and lets gets her ship's engineer to try and get them out of the Starfinder out of their shackles.
"This other guy is gonna be pissed I ran all the way over to the one there when this close but being further from the robots is a point..." Urtica continues his rush up to one of the prisoners and tries to release him of his bindings, hoping to get him out and able to help with the bomb.
For a long moment, Impulse is shellshocked. They knew this moment was coming, this question would be asked and they swear they had a real prepared answer up until just about ten seconds ago when it the sounds of each word were spoke onto the wind as it birthed itself into reality. They swallow, nervously. Never been one for speaking in front of people, and especially not with dozens of eyes on them at once. Not to mention the mind itself is hazier than usual, and likely visibly so to anyone who can notice the slight sway of their step. "Impulse. Architect of Falcon House," they sputter out curtly, before taking in a deep breath and staring down at the ground to steady themself. "Well, I'll stuck around this long. What's another turn of the seasons, after all? I just hope this coming spring I learn more weird things out here than I did the last." They hold up their axe off their back in a motion of a slightly buzzed salute. "I'm here in all the Broken Tusks' service!" And with a rousing look up attentively, they almost smile, even if a bit nervously before putting the axe back on their back and stepping back from the spotlight as quickly as possible. "...And maybe I'd like to fit in around here for once. That might take more than just one spring, but... I'd like to see it happen."
Impulse doesn't respond. At least, not immediately anyway, though their response is implicit as they're immediately distracted, stepping over to the massive porcupine's body and forcefully pulling out several quills carefully enough not to snap them in the process. "Hmmm, the hollowness makes them a bit light for typical javelin needs, we'll have to make sure they're stuff so they get some proper weight and don't snap immediately upon hitting something. But I've never seen a porcupine with quills long enough to turn into a thrown projectile. I never even considered the possibility of weaponry from such material, I wonder kind of other implements could make specific use of how lightweight and hollow these are. Might benefit a set of spiked gauntlets, or a very fine set of shield spikes from some of the smaller ones. I'll have to consider this further..." They stand there thinking over the beast's body for a long moment, quills still embedded into their arms and torso in several places, but whatever pain they must still be feeling, seems to have been forgotten for the moment, anyway.
Impulse steps into place on the other side of the blue tinted spear wielder. "Get away from them you slippery little suckers!" Empowered by the perfect efficiency of their axe's mechanisms for the first time since its creation, they opt to just tear into this new challenger with it.
Their axe comes down, cutting directly through the spear wielder's neck and sound of their neck bones cracking echoes throughout the clearing, as Blue immediately slumps over onto the ground. A hiss of hydraulic energy emphasizes their motion as they turn and lock eyes at the other one. "This is not your hunting ground." They turn tail towards Red into the trees, cutting through the branches to get up within reach of the other.
Aphotos returns to the safehouse after a few hours of his act. Not too productive of an investigation, but at a certain point the only step left in any score is action. He returns to his preparations, quickly checking his gear, and being sure to double check on the clothing ordered and its fit and tailoring. "Well, we may need the help of our other selves, yet. I'll make sure to pack my other mask just in case we have a moment to step away and call in the experts... so to speak." Midnight's costume gets stored away, but within reach, as well as last night's Gardner's outfit. Certainly the good judge doesn't need to catch wind of what they're up to just yet. He makes sure to save time to check on the blade in the river by night, but otherwise sticks to laying low in town, going out once or twice more just to dance on the streets briefly to sell his cover.
Impulse steps back from the others and turns around, weapons at the ready. They briefly consider also finding an excuse to wander off. Animal caretaking has never really been a strength of theirs. It's never been much of a hole for longing for one, though. Animals inside a workshop were too dangerous and messy even back when they were still doing work in artistic workshops. They let out an audible sigh. But what kind of community member would they be if they just wandered away and something actually did go wrong as they have the last few days? They stand around keeping watch, tapping the side of their axe's hefted handle, fiddling with its dials meaninglessly. Though the tapirs' movement behind them bumps the rest of the group into their back as they turn, seeing two long nosed creatures trundling up with a set of spikes in either foot. "Oh those are nasty, even these sturdy creatures could get one hell of an infection from those. Fine fine, I'll come deal with it." They put the axe back on its magnetic clip, and step cautiously towards the tapirs. When they don't immediately shirk away Impulse gets on a single knee and pushes their hands forward, cracking each knuckle with a strange quiet pop that sounds more like gears sliding up against each other than the space between joints cracking. With their narrowed, slightly elongated fingers, they push back on one joint to get nail deeper into the tapirs' skin and pull out the violent splinters.
After a few moments, they drop the barbs back in one hand as simultaneously all their joints seem to de-extend and snap back into place. "That should fix it, I think. Though someone might want to patch up the holes some so they don't get any dirt or something in there."
Aphotos nods at the young lady's request. "Yes, I think that's a fine idea. I'll make sure I can copy his style of dress and manner as closely as possible. Becoming another person entirely is not a necessity I am unfamiliar with." He carefully wraps the ceramic mask in some extra cloth before storing it away and then moves to take the rest of the strange masked man's outfit for the group's own benefit. "I should note, as well. When we should need to retrieve the blades from the river, I will be available and should be able to help any of the rest of you dive down there for long enough for us to move it. Which only makes it an even stronger hiding place, since I doubt most of the Gardeners have any efficient means of getting it out of there as we do."
Impulse stands up from the ground, and carefully staggers back over to the hearth, trying not to draw attention to the bruises now forming on their face underneath the lengths of long blue hair. They accept the small piece of malachite, with probably one of the most genuine smiles you've ever seen portrayed on their face. "Why thank you, Wipa. This is a finer reward than any plaque from the old academy. I'll make sure I take care of it." Their expression immediately turns pensive, as they sit down and start rummaging through their bag again, pulling out a long ball of linen twine and begins to wrap a lattice of twine around the edge of the stone, seemingly tying it into some small wearable item, sized to be something like a bracelet, held around the arm by a loop and a knot. While they work through the string project they do address Kala's question. "That seems fine to me. I might need a bit more practice before I can execute any of these snares on the regular, though. So the supplies might sit around in my bag for a while so I don't burn through the real stuff before I fully know what I'm doing." They look up briefly and pause the string weaving to help split the supplies. "Nice job with that poison trap, by the way. Let me know if you ever want to practice together or something. That way hopefully at least one of us is able to get help if something blows up."
Impulse can't help but breathe a very obvious sigh of relief at Kala's snare building success. Their trust in the young animist is quite strong in most cases but they hold little faith in most members of the following when it comes to cases of fine building work, and (much as they hate to say it) for Kala especially so when it pertains to the dangerously explosive sort. They look up at Wipa and nod. "Of course. Any creation should have its mettle tested, and I fully agree it'd be good sense to feel the effects of such a thing. After all, I wouldn't know how much I could get out of my own great weapon designs if I didn't get myself hurt a few times." Impulse very slowly stands up and carries the snare as carefully as possible, making sure not to move it enough to set it off, then very lightly places it on the ground 15 ft away from the others. Their touch on the placement is light and calculated, in a way that is atypical for someone usually so impatient and aggressive. They turn back to Wipa and take a deep breath, mentally preparing and adjusting all their armor to brace themself against the trap's propulsion. Then, after many more silent seconds, they step forward onto the snare's trigger.
Impulse intends to roll out of the way, but their thoughts are still too full trying to analyze the design and think up improvements to its placement that they hesitate, and fail to react to the loud crack of the small branch completely snapping in two. The flattened rock connects directly with the side of their head, smacking against their temple as they stand completely frozen in place for several seconds. They instinctively move their hands up to their head and grunt in pain as their vision spins before them, flooding their visual processors with useless information. Eventually, they finally breathe again, as their vision stabilizes and the dizziness subsides. Completely winded, Impulse first sits themself down on the ground next to the former snare, then lays down on their back. They spend some time getting the breath back into their lungs. ...Before breaking out in a loud and manic cackle of joy that goes on for close to a minute. Between laughing and tears they manage to choke out "Incredible! The snare did everything I could have ever asked for!" You're not sure if the concussion is playing any part in their reaction, but they do seem genuinely thrilled and entertained by the result.
Midnight has spent years learning how not to let emotional outbursts come through to anyone else, but he does mentally sigh at his blades' ineffectual cut as the Barker dodges in time along with him. What a pest. He tries to follow his allies' lead and continue the onslaught of slices across the Barker's body, hoping that his opponent with trip over his own legs as he increases the speed and flurry of his attacks. In his iconic fashion he makes a slice with each arm back and forth.
"You're owed death by our hands, now accept your due!"
Opportune Backstab if another ally hits him in melee:
Impulse stares over at the batch of materials, waiting to see if anyone else moves for anything in particular before reaching out towards the most familiar materials, the heavy rock and spring branch. and sits down with them. Their hands casually move in experienced motions that look strangely effortless as their thoughts seem to wander. "You know, Wipa. This reminds me of the old country. I doubt I've ever mentioned it but back home I was born in a more typical creche for my people, and I had a body like this with longer nimble fingers and a slightly smaller size so I could get into places and do precise repairs or something, I guess. But there really wasn't much around that needed doing, I suspect our society had gotten well past those days. You know, I wanted to learn more artistry, I wanted to really make something impressive and with meaning, so that's how I ended up in that city. And this honestly reminds me of lessons back at the academy. Although, most of that was sculpting, ceramic work and weaving. What I really like was making and working with tools and weapons, and sometimes I wonder if I should have gone into working the Black Sovereign's armory stuff but I guess I was too much of loose cannon to really gain much favor out there. But so far I've liked things simpler out here, anyway. I may not be the most trusted here, either but at least the Broken Tusks understand that tools of destruction, when held properly in check can be just as useful to any given society as just walls and artistry as well." They put the last pieces of the snare together with a flourish
They hold the strange contraption up to Wipa and look towards her with a tiny grin. "I think this looks about right? Thanks for the lesson, Wipa."
In the dim lighting of the tent, through the veil of his mask, Midnight turns and locks eyes with the Barker, trying to rattle him as thoroughly as he tries to shake the spirits of others. "The only fear you should be feeling now, is your own as the curtain falls and shows us the end of this whole circus charade you're playing at."
With a smirk on his face, which sadly goes unseen under the dark and obfuscating mask upon Midnight's face, he then spins both daggers in his hands once again, making two quick and deft cuts in an x-shaped cross pattern across the Barker's body.
He looks across to Mayael and Kuthek, giving them both a nod, and hoping his distraction serves the rest of the group well in finally putting a close to this performance.
Impulse flips through and finds a page far back full of different following of the region that they've been told about by various elders and through some early research and stop to point at "Καίγοντας μαμούθ". "Burning Mammoths... That would certainly... fit this heraldry. But I don't know anything else about them. Though, it does worry me that, looking at this charred hand here the name might be more literal than I was hoping." For a moment Impulse appears to actually shiver at the thought, before quickly returning to their usual muted show of any kind of expression. Then they stand there in thought for a while before turning back to Kala. "Oh right, the spear. Well I guess we both won it off Pakano but I'm rather... attached to this weapon I carry on my back already. So feel free to keep it if you'd like. I've got no strong need for it, and I think you deserve it more than I, anyway." They turn back to their notes, deep in thought. "What kind of following could the Burning Mammoths possibly be and what in the world happened to this person who carried this spear."
"Honestly I'm not sure I'm going to be much of a follow up to that absolutely brutal destruction. And they call me explosive..." "I'd hold off on inviting him back into the fold before we see how much embarrassment he can handle. Honestly, Pakano I do not give a rat's ass whether or not you take that spear. But what I do care about it how you've just been an absolute piece of s$+% this entire time since we all started out as scouts. So you want a fight, Pakano, then you got one. Just remember when this is over that this was your idea, not mine." And before Pakano is even able to dust himself off, Impulse grabs his other arm and yanks it twisting behind the young Kellid's back. "I will make you regret dangling your undeserved title inheritance in front of us. "
They reach around, with their other hand, grappling Pakano around the front of his shin, slowly pulling up and lifting the taller Pakano cleanly off the ground, not faltering for a moment while the youth tries to struggle and wriggle free.
"You want to be on top and above the rest of us? Does that make you feel more secure in your position? Above rather than an equal like the rest of us? I'll show you what it's like up there."
"Let me tell you one thing, dear Pakano. I knew a lot of guys like you who thought they were above others and could get away with not doing their jobs right and not doing their part for the rest of their team. Lot of people like that back home who thought they could push the little "Synth" like me around. You want to know what I did to them? Ah... I think it's better I just give you a small demonstration." Impulse FLARES. It'd be hard to describe it any other way, like a pulse of blinding blue flashing across every one of their circuitry lines at once as they draw in every last burst of their strength to toss Pakano backwards down onto the ground as they bring their weight down falling over him.
They let off a flash of stray static discharge into the ground as they quickly dig their hands into the muddy ground and push themself up. Their expression remains deeply twisted in frustration and anger, but they don't seem to say anything further.
Impulse shrugs, they readily take one of the maple-mead mugs and lightly warms it by the fire. Still just early enough in spring for a warmed glass to be that slight bit more rewarding in the partially dimming light of a late afternoon soon to become evening. They look down at Agn, despite glaring at him for nearly making them fall over just a moment ago, the android lightly pours a couple sips worth of the drink onto the very edge of the fire before taking it and beginning to sip at it themself. "I'll be fine, I know my limits." Which was, as Impulse had learned in this company, surprisingly high compared to most members of the following. They blamed the nanites... pesky little things. But the cause for celebration is partially in their honor, so they try to enjoy the company as well as the drink this time around. The drink certainly helps some, loosens their stiffness a little bit. "She's right, this will be good practice for the celebration... because I do need to get used to this level of familial-ness." They make it through celebration without once yelling at someone and storming off for a while, so perhaps you can label it a success.
Estelia sighs, well she did say she was going to try and make an effort. And maybe she could find a way to squeeze some kind of remorse out of Without Trace or fail. She doesn't bring up the sabotage to them directly, but does make an attempt at talking in such a way that the team knows she has seen signs of their bear pelt wearing member trying to sabotage them. "You know it's impressive to see Ulfens of such strong lineage who do so well in a fair race. It's really a testament to how much better at this kind of thing Ulfens are when they can do so incredibly well with the elements as ."
Trying not to cringe over the previous display of accidentally tripping over the stone itself and clattering their extra side weaponry across the glade, Impulse now more cautiously steps around the object, assessing its design and the base from which it was removed. They take off their pack, carefully and slowly digging down into the bottom of it to pull out a small set of rope rigging, chisel sets and most importantly, an adhesive substance that once applied is only visible to the trained eye. It was something used quite often in fixing up the broken brick work of an old house for people who couldn't afford to entirely rebuild their entire walls. How long had it been since they used any of these tools? Long enough now, that they have actually started to try and count the time in moons and springs rather than in years. And in all these seasons that have passed they still had so little to show for it. To give back to a group that were willing to take them in, even with their wildly destructive nature. Perhaps this would be the chance to prove that what they really enjoy is creating things with their own two hands, and those things didn't always have to be dangerous things. They motion, Iskra over and place the adhesive on the on base, then help direct the two of them to perfectly place the heavy crow statue perfectly, then quickly rope it down in place to make sure it stays still for the time to set.
"That should do it. We need to give it a few minutes to fully set. If anyone else has any spiritual insight that they need to add to make it work for its intended purposes again, it should be fine as long as you don't need to move it to do so." As they step back from the tied down stone, a glimpse of a rare happily satisfied smile appears on the android's face as they repack up the rest of their gear. "Not my finest work, but hopefully it's enough to restore an important relic to its former glory. Even if I still haven't figured out what the significance of all these things are yet..."
Impulse's single awkward step forward is accented by an audible sigh of relief as Eirthgim steps and bring in some words of wisdom to appease the situation. They look up across the glade at the elder trying to mouth a "thank you" as visibly in their direction as possible. They stay well back, not fully approaching the area but they do turn to look over at Kala with a quizzical look. "Surprising how much faith in me that one can have considering..." After a long moment, pause they do step up and add. "Yeah I uhhh haven't really worked with statues much and it's been a good few years since I touched mason work but I'll certainly do everything I can to put this back the way it was. I'll even carry it out there if you're worried about the ravens getting you. I uh, like to think I'm pretty sturdy anyway." Their delivery is visibly awkward as they try to skillfully extract themself from further conversation. They take a few steps closer to the statue half, hoping to grab it and take it back as quickly as possible, before they have to make a fool of themself any further.
Impulse shakes their head and sighs. "And yet as always that one gets off so easily. Are we okay, he asks, like some of us weren't having our eyes pecked till they bleed in the heat of it all, and the best this one could do was stay 40 ft away and throw a spear one time while laughing at each of us. They take a moment to look back at the ground, staring back down at the tracks that lead them to this area. Despite everyone's frantic stomping around, the prints are still visible, leaving a still unsettled feeling in Impulse's stomach, still yet unresolved. "Whatever. Call me rash then. Next time you can all find the traces of someone running off with a precious spiritual artifact and not follow them on your own then. I just want to find this damn thing and get this over with." However, seeing Eirthgim start tending to Iskra's eyes and covering other bruises, they do lean back against the large boulder and begin tending to their invention's critical failures. They twist the bottom cap of the axe off releasing an audible hiss, giving the steam a full minute to dissipate and release all of its heat, before pulling out the still faintly glowing tube and placing it in a thickly lined leather pocket of the pack. Then, from a second pocket of identical size, they produce a more strongly glowing tube that they slide back into the weapon and replace the cover. "At least objects can just be fixed. If I try to fix myself or other people it's far more of an uproar every time." They spend the next few minutes in silence, tending to spring systems and tightening certain moving parts with specialized pliers and other tools. The steady work and concentration having brought them down out of their state of aggression for the time being.
Stillness, darkness, it's a familiar and welcoming environment. And even especially more so in this outfit. Peering out through the full face mask, it often reminded him of the dark depths of the sea, down where the only lights were either your own or the ones belonging to things you definitely wanted to make sure you saw coming. The journey over is instinctual, stay near the shadows of buildings, say nothing, stay unseen by all. And arriving at the circus he peaks up at the sky, a calming presence as well. Honestly, he nearly fell into old habits, watching waiting, saying nothing at all while the scene plays out, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. That is, until it had occurred to him, as he watches Chance worm her way into the crowd of workers, that he did have partners on this job. Right. Should probably remember there were others around and introduce himself. "When you work with others, remember that they actually need to see you." He steps forward, and a hooded figure, dressed entirely in black, with knives strapped on either side of his waist materializes out of the blackness of night. His expression is unreadable behind the full face mask covered only in a cryptic mysterious star pattern. "Apologies. I should have spoken up earlier, my friends. Old habits die hard, I suppose. Silent Midnight, at your service. So what's the plan then now that we have our little distraction? I prefer to stay out of sight, myself but I've been known to be great hiding others when need be, as well. Shall we take a look around?"
Estelia instinctively wraps her shawl around her even tighter at the idea of a 200 mile trek in this kind of weather. "Well... I signed up for this mission because I thought way up here we might catch the northern lights. I've always been fascinated with the skies and the stars, after all. Do you think we'll have a chance of catching them during our four days of journey?" As she finishes her tea, she also pushes her cup and saucer to the far end of the table and begins laying out a spread of Harrow cards, concentrating as she does so. "I can read the stars going forward but while we are not yet on our way I should also briefly consult the cards for guidance about the best directions in order to guarantee our success."
Estelia wraps her veil around her head as tightly as she can, shivering slightly in the cold air, but holding herself still positive. Her vibrant, multicolored scarf stands out against the mostly white frozen land. While she carries only a small knife as a weapon, her belt seems to be full of various baubles, including what appears to be several packets to hold decks of cards. She breathes out a puff in the freezing air and tries her best to smile. "I am Estelia. I am a fortune teller in my native Varisia. I am quite skilled at my craft, and trained for years learning how to read Harrow, the stars, crystal balls, and whatever other unique methods people have used to divine. I have joined the pathfinders because I know that whatever destiny I am looking for, for myself lies elsewhere in this world, so I'm traveling with this Society to see where I might share my services while I search for my place."
Salka opens her eyes, blinks, and hearing her prototype whirring around here realizes the throes of combat are still going on. She draws the hanging on her side, and swings it at the lowly enforcer in retribution.
Then in true, genius fashion she kicks her leg over, activating an unstable jet stream of fire to push herself away to recover.
"I'll clear the way for the rest of you, I know the importance of a tactical retreat!"
Aphotos turns to Chance and nods solemnly as his image fades away, covered by the illusory shield of Invisibility. He makes a hidden strike at Blue!
Then he takes the chance to step over Blue's corpse and get up next to the horrible many-eyed creature. "I wish I could say this is the most disgusting monster I've ever seen but this is just about as many eyes as most things at the bottom of the sea depths have..."
Salka looks at the two of them. "Honestly, it's quite possible. We don't know what the Far Caves was either up in the Land of the Linnorm Kings, just that's what she always told everyone. My family suspects that she might have secretly been a Shaitan and just didn't want anyone to know. I wouldn't be surprised if somehow your cleric knew her though, given that you and are have a remarkably similar errr.... design let's say. My silvered skin accents are practically the same as yours. Fascinating!" Salka begins looking over the two sisters' designs with kind of artistic eye that only a master blacksmith like herself could have. "Oh, uh. Where are my manners. I'm Salka Frisk, apprentice blacksmith at Frisk Family Smithing. But most people call me "Salka Silver-Fist" back home. Since y'know, my hands are all veined in silver and all."
The small brass colored kobold before him stares wide-eyed in shock. "If you haven't heard of my greatness then that is I must remedy that immediately." They draw out a ten foot tall wooden bo staff tipped with the top portion painted yellow and covered with orange and red streamers to give the illusion of it being constantly topped with a fire blowing in the wind.
Then a beat passes... "...Okay okay, I am merely training to be the greatest the gladiator there ever was, but I have unfortunately yet to win my first fight in the ring so I am training here with you Pathfinders until I am ready to make my proper debut. But I assure you I can be very tough, loud, and scary!"
Sorry all, I'm literally in the middle of a move but I'm finally set up in my new place just enough to get hooked up to the internet from my laptop. Will have an intro up shortly! Salka will also happily burn those tasty hero points on critical RK fails but not regular fails usually.
Under the veil of Invisibility Aphotos clutches his swordcane, and pulls it just slightly out from its sheath, only to completely relax upon hearing the guards's response. "Huh... I guess the guards around here aren't as suspicious as the rest of the townsfolk. Well then, isn't that grand, perhaps we'll get out of this without having to hide a bunch of bodies today after all."
Aphotos finally looks up at Chance's mention. "Ah... yes I suppose it would be worth our time to get some preparations together, and I could use the workout moving some things around. It's always much harder to train properly on missions like these. Certainly Lady Fiorré is well equipped to keep our new guest 'safe' in the meantime." He slowly climbs back up to his feet, and saunters over to Chance, ignoring the urge to stare longingly over at the cozy tub. "Thankfully all that steam makes the tub less appealing anyway, never really understood why the top side folk always want their water to feel like they're boiling in a soup." He kneels slightly to place a hand on Chance's shoulder, and turns to Funmi. "Well. Let's get to work then, let me know where you need me."
Aphotos settles into the warehouse, taking a seat up against the wall, further from the light of the doorway. He mostly listens in on the conversation and enjoying the company but after the chaos of the day prefers to revel in not having to participate, himself. Though at the mention of a bath from Fiorré he jumps to his feet, suddenly tuning in much more closely to the current dialogue. He steps up to the rest of the group, ready to provide his commentary before immediately stopping aghast at Kuthek's unfolding portable "bathtub". "Wait wait... you had this the entire time? What, did you just find yourself amused at me flailing around like a fish out of water that you neglected to mention it? I even came this close to taking a soak in the river the other night and you had a comfortable tub just sitting around? My dear Kuthek, I appreciate your assistance in most things so far but I do find myself flabberghasted that you didn't even mention having this laying around with your supplies!" He pauses for a moment, realizing the scene he's making which is much unlike his usual self. With hint of embarrassment and a barely perceptible blush he clears his throat and turns back to Fiorré. "My apologies, Lady Fiorré. I don't mean to interrupt your..." He looks between Fiorré and their new guest before finishing,"Your... hospitality. I got just a bit riled up there thinking about this whole bath situation. Please, do treat yourself to a moment of reprieve." He leans back in closer to the burly Kayal, but keeps his face inscrutable. "You still have much to explain here, Kuthek. I'm not letting you off the hook for this one."
Before: Mel stares wide-eyed at Alistair as he reaches out to place his hand in the statue's own. "Wow... I certainly was not expecting that to open the door. Nice job figuring that one out." "Oh sure when I go around touching things in the ancient ruins everyone tells me I'm 'being too reckless' and 'causing too much damage to the site' but when this one does it he gets all this credit for it." Later: Mel glares at the unknown robots? aliens? Well, whoever they are, she's never been good at making a good first impression. She keeps an eye on their new companions but doesn't hide the fact that she when she sees robots she tends to hold her weapons pretty close. |
