A lot of changes compared to the last time I wrote this chapter. I do like the revamped version a lot better, mainly as it has expanded not only our main characters but also hints to others who have been around in the past and perhaps will appear in the future.

enjoy

It's not the first time he has had to sleep on the floor of the places they stay at. This happens often; it's hard to find proper beds or sleeping areas due to his and Sasha's bigger size, and sometimes it's challenging to have a large daemon. Still, Mikhail knows this is the only shape he ever would've seen Sasha in. He chooses this form and proudly carries the scars of the spirit he took for Sasha to take.

Like any other time when he gets only the floor to sleep on, Mikhail uses his daemon as his backrest, giving a bit more comfort in uncomfortable sleeping settings.

Sleep did, however, not come easy to him this time around; so much has happened in such a short time. The team he has been with, later chosen to lead into battles; only a few remain. He has lost many friends over the years, some equally as terrible as the people who fell to the Magisterium guns, but it does not mean such things get any easier.

He had hoped their Sniper would've survived, but the shot he took to the adornment was more significant than the man's strength, and all he and Demoman could offer their comrades was the company before his last breath.

Mikhail fully believed it was one of the Nomads who betrayed them, more than ready to throw vengeance on them. Only to realize that it was something much worse to deal with; an alethiomist. One forced into helping the Church; their words brought death to people he fought alongside for several years.

'She may hold no regret for her actions. But I cannot blame her for what she did.' Mikhail may have seen a beast in that woman's fiery eyes, but he saw something as well. A pain and rage he is very familiar with, one who has been trapped, treated as nothing but a feral animal. In time, an animal is what one becomes. Yes, he was once like her. Full of rage, ready to kill anything that reminded him of the pain his former life brought. The only thing that kept him from going on a murdering rampage that most likely would've taken his life in the process, was his family. They kept him grounded and were the reminder as to where his strength was needed. They no longer need his strength, but there are always people who need it, and as long he is able, Mikhail will grant those deserving of his strength.

'The alethiomist reader has found her lifeline in the Engineer. Maybe one day she can offer her strength to others.' He is well aware no one else can trust someone like that woman. She does not act her age and has an air of naivety, yet she is clouded by the rage simmering inside her heart. 'Hopefully, she learns how to control this rage' Otherwise, she will be more akin to a rapid dog, one that needs to be put down before someone ends up getting killed. Mikhail knows such people very well, and for that reason, he is willing to give her a chance. Though mostly because he wants the Engineer to join his team, the inventor of the sentry gun, only a fool wouldn't see how much potential this man can bring to a team. He and that woman are clearly a package deal, but from what he took note of, she is quite a catch, too. Being an alethiometer reader, one is able to understand the signs like second nature. Such a skill is almost unheard of; he only heard whispers about people who could read the alethiometer without a small pile of books. Mikhail wants such a reader on his team and not in the hands of the Magisterium.

Not so sure about the Spy and Sniper; they are both veterans, so their luck cannot be argued. If their skills on the battlefield are part of their survival, only time will tell. He is in need of two of that class, and although he is hesitant to have Nomads as part of the team, due to the fact those kinds of people are lousy at obeying commands. The Sniper did mention they could, but Mikhail will be the judge of that. He knows how Nomads are, and if these two have the same insubordinate habits, then he would prefer to be without them on his team. And speaking of trust… 'The Spy is a student of Viper. He did say he betrayed the man and is going to risk his life for this mission'

Although Mikhail trusts the Spy for those words, Viper has someone significant to him. He still feels uncertain if this man has genuinely left that master's spy's side.

Mikhail has seen what Viper can do to people, break their will so severely that there's no coming back. Mold a former strong mind into a submissive slave. A former Scout suffered such a fate, and that man was loyal, but he couldn't resist the intense torture and brainwashing of Viper. So how in the world should that Spy be any different?

Sasha lifts her head, moving it so the nose gently taps his arm. "|Maybe he's the proof we can get Xander back.|" She voices, and Mikhail can only hum, not sure what to think about this, but for now, he has no other choice than to believe this former student of Viper's words. "|We'll see.|" He replies his daemon, and knowing he won't get more sleep. Mikhail gets up from the makeshift bed and heads upstairs.

The sun has just risen, casting a reddish glow over the inlet, and the shadows of Bristol feel like calling, daring him and these men who came all this way in order to save the young man who warned them about the Gobblers taking children. Mikhail has for quite some time wanted to put a stop to these kidnappings, but until now, had no clue where the children were brought. It was only that young man who gave them an idea, and although it was risky, the entire team agreed to attack one of the facilities. It wasn't the right one and half of them got killed. 'Will the same happen this time around?' That he cannot say, and if the Magisterium finally manages to put him down for good, then Mikhail will make sure it's a fight none of them will ever forget.

"Couldn't sleep?"

First, there he notices Sylvia roosting on this unusual ship's railing; if not for the slouched wing, she would've been a wonder to behold. Granted, Sylvia has always been beautiful, even when she was at her lowest. Mikhail can still recall that day, scouting the area with the team and, by chance, spotted her in the snow. So weak, so helpless. However, if he had known she was a daemon, he never would've touched her. He cannot imagine how Sylvia and the one she's connected to felt when he picked her up and carried her all the way back to base. It must have been torture as he had sort of been force-feeding her and checking her body for injuries. Mikhail wish she had spoken to him during that time, but she endured his treatment and kept on pretending she was an ordinary magpie. She only spoke when he sat her free; only there did he realize what she was.

"No, too many thoaghts," he admits, even though Sylvia has more than once assured him that she is all right with his touch. Mikhail feels terrible as he does not know if her partner in the soul feels the same way. He might be loathing it, hating him for such a breach of intimacy. "Much vorry about the upcomeeng mession. So much can go vrong."

"Ah yes, so many lives on the line. My partner included," Sylvia hums, though she does not sound that worried about the idea of disappearing like any daemon does by the death of their human. "and with people you barely trust."

She does not need to remind him. Usually, Mikhail only has to deal with one new face at a time. Now he has four, two of which are still wet behind the ears. Five if counting Sylvia's human, then again, maybe he's lucky that person knows how to defend himself. "does he know how to feght?"

"He knows how to use a bone saw in more ways than one might expect."

So he has the mindset to kill but no proper training. Better than nothing. Mikhail does find it somewhat funny, "A doctor zeat knovs how to keell." He chuckles at the mental image of a doctor running into battle with a bone saw. Granted, it's only a silhouette, as he has no idea what Sylvia's person looks like. "Not often do I meet one of zose." It reminds him of Angel, the Elite medic. She is a battle medic and one of the few in that class who thrives just as well out on the battlefield as a doctor would inside a hospital. It pleases him to hear he might have found a battle medic, especially one with a good sense of humor by how Sylvia is. "Any chancye I can pyersayde you tvo to join the team?" His team has long been in need of a Medic. Mikhail will be thrilled if this possible battle medic takes that open spot.

The corvid shakes her feathers, allowing them to correct themselves after the wind has ruffled them up. "Honeyed words won't help you with that." He chuckles at that remark. She steps around, making herself face the city on the horizon. "Like the witches's daemons, I long for freedom, and it hurts me terribly that he is trapped inside a cage of brick walls." Her ebony eyes land his way, but only the tone of her voice shows how she feels. "How long it has been the last time I was at his side; does he miss me as much I do him?"

"You veell join him; I'll make sure of eet," Mikhail promises. That is the least he can do after the torment he inflicted on this faceless person. Although he will be very disappointed, "and eef he does not veesh to join my team. I can bryeak the cage he finds himself een." The time he spent with this beautiful magpie will be worth the short meeting he might get from her person. Some people are unfortunately not in tune with their daemon, which shows in their different behavior. Maybe this man is the same, but he will only know the day they meet.

She titles her head in his direction and a quick glance at the brightening up city. Sylvia jumps around, turning her back on Bristol. "Perhaps you should give him a heads up about this infiltrator." She flaps both her wings, but the pain of the injured one puts a quick stop to it. "Shit… still not healed." She muses, very miffed by how the bullet that strifed the wing is keeping her grounded. With few options of movement, Sylvia jumps from the railing to a crate and then plops onto the ship's deck floor. The wings make her walk more akin to a waddle over to him. "Put me on your shoulder or something. Anything away from the floor." Sylvia demands, huffy at how she temporarily lost her flight.

He obeys that huffy command, always careful not to accidentally crush her body. Mikhail would never do this to another's daemon; the taboo of touching another's daemon is there for a reason. Granted, he has never felt how another's touch feels like, but if it's like stories tell, he doesn't want to feel it. The only reason he continues to touch Sylvia is the sole reason that she actually enjoys it. Hopefully, her human part shares the opinion on this constant breach of personal space; if not, then he has a lot of apologizing to do. Sylva ends up on Sasha's back, which she likes equally well. A nod from her and Mikhail strokes her down the back, in a way letting her human know he needs his attention. Sylvia closes her eyes in contentment at the feeling, though she shakes herself 'awake' after a short while to inform him. "He's ready."

He nods, and he touches her healthy wing, making sure the dots and dashes are clear and slow enough for the other one to translate them. 'At… Bristol.' He informs the other man. Waits and asks a lingering question about those captured by the Magisterium.'Is… team… alive?'

It takes a little while for Sylva's human to respond, and when he does, Sylvia translates the feeling her human does in his way of communicating. Mikhail has done Morse code for so long that he can translate the dot and dash it by merely listening. He sighs in relief at the answer: 'They are alive.' That is good, but Sylva's humans do have bad news as well. 'Man with the roe deer… her spine broken… unable to use her hindlegs.'

That is not good, not good at all. Trevor's whole thing is his speed, but with Tinky's back broken, he has to carry her. Granted, Trevor can do that well enough, but… ugh, Mikhail hates to say and do this, but he cannot use a Scout with such a detrimental weakness. Hopefully, Trevor will understand when they have that talk. One thing at the time, though. 'Will… infiltrate… building…' He ponders for a moment how this doctor can recognize this Spy. That itself is hard as spies' whole thing is not to be spotted nor recognized. There is one thing that separates this man from the rest. 'His… daemon… still… change...shape'

Sylvia suddenly gets very giddy and most likely would've flown around if she could. This reaction is not what he expected, so it takes him entirely by surprise. A giggle and she is kind enough to explain why. "Oh, he likes to hear that. Better give hr Spy a warning, for I get strong senses my partner wants to do some fun tests on him."

Mikhail snorts a laugh at her words. At least someone is having fun with this entire situation. Sylvia's partner responds and, through it, learns a bit more about who the blue-dressed Spy is trying to save. 'He must be... the father... of the young man... I got assigned to.' The one Viper has is the son of the Spy? Well, that explains quite a lot. Makes it somewhat easier to trust the man's words that he is actually going to risk his life. 'So, this rescue mission is personal for the Spy. Good, then the two of us have that in common.' For this is personal for Mikhail as well. The Magisterium has his sister, but also people who have become family. He messages to the magpie's partner 'He… will… inform… of… plan. Can… you… bring… him… to… prisoners?'

He gets a yes as an answer, and it eases some worries; the plan so far is going well enough, though there can easily come complications. They are heading in mostly blind, and worse, barely any of them knows how the other fight. Getting caught in friendly fire is a tad too great for his taste, but nothing they can do about it. ' All we can do is trust the rest can do their job and that the spirits are indeed on our side.' He will definitively ask the bear's spirit to share its strength with him as well. He is going to need the ferocity.

Footsteps, and Mikhail is quick to remove his hand from Sylvia; not long after, his remaining team member appears from the deck below. Looks like these other resistance members had a stash of beers, for Demo is well ahead in lightening the load. "Ey, you're up earlie." He's offered one of the beers, and although Mikhail does not indulge himself in drinking when on missions. Mikhail decides he can do it this time. Hell, he sure needs something after the bloodbath. They barely survived. The beer isn't as strong as he wanted, but it's better than nothing. "so, got a lot o' coincidences that line up." Demoman remarks and takes a good swig of the beer.

He can say that again, and knowing what those four- or rather, the civilian is in possession of, Mikhail is not that surprised. The spirits are able to communicate through the alethiometer and guide those able to understand the meanings behind the signs. He hums in agreement with his remaining team member, saying his two cents, "The spirits are vith us on this one. I fyel it."

"Aye, I don't ken. I fully hawp that." Demoman shrugs, though the man does at times speak like he believes in some higher power. Just not the spirits of man and beast like Mikhail does. "But I dae believe we wur meant tae meet an' gang up wi' thae four."

Now that they are on the subject. "Vhat do you think of them?"

Taking another swig, Demoman plops down on one of the crates where his daemon lies beside him. "I trust in thair skills. But I am on th' fence if they're the folks I imagine they are."

He raises a brow down to the Scotsman, unsure what Demo meant by these words. He can't be drunk enough to go on a rant that makes little to no sense or the tall tales only Cade seems to fully believe. Demo lazily swings his half-empty beer at him. "Whit I mean is they're pure tough assets. Morally, I don't ken whaur they're, but if you're game," he looks up, a faint smile over the scratched-up face. "I'm willing tae give them th' chance tae prove worthy o' our trust."

"The Spy as vell?" Demoman hasn't been fighting against Viper's so-called students, but even he knows what a threat this old snake is. He carries a lot of infamy here in Europe. "For a momyent, you looked aboaht ready to blow him up."

"His daemon's ability startled me!" Mikhail can't help but chuckle at Demo's exasperated defense. The Scotsman isn't as amused. "But it's nae lik' I'm any bloody better, bein' an amalgamation o' anither..." He grumbles and goes bottle up with the beer.

He's not even going to take up the subject if any of Demo's tales have any hint of truth to them. The only one that seems true is the sword, but Demo can be a brilliant ventriloquist for all he knows. "And the mession?" For it's not only saving their fellow team members, "They have many captahryed cheeldren, perhaps already braeenvashed into vhat the Church vants them to believe. And even if not, it still vill be deefficult."

"Ay, that it will." Demoman agrees. He places the bottle beside him, and the once again empty hand sweeps over to give the half-asleep wolverine a good scratch on the neck. His body posture is relaxed, but the expression on his face betrays the Scotsman; he is afraid. "If they hadn't come… what wid happen tae th' rest?" Demo is not scared for his own safety; his fear has roots in the harsh fact that sometimes, someone has no other choice than to leave a team member behind.

Mikhail wishes he hadn't experienced that before, but he has. He has been part of this hidden war longer than most, and the cause of pain and suffering tends to repeat. Perhaps he should consider himself lucky that he only once had to make that hard call and glad he does not have to carry on a pang of similar guilt this time around. "The tvo of us voaldn't have stood a chancye." He replies the somewhat new member, Demoman has only been on the team, for about a year. Before that, like the Engineer, the Scotsman has been a secret alliance member, helping his team and the others get food and such. "Eef the spirits hadn't led these people to us, then I vould have no other choice than to leave the others beheend."

"Even though twa o' thaim ken yer name?"

For non-members, that may sound silly. But for Team Fortress Resistance. Letting other members know of one's name is a sign of great trust. Heavy rarely shared his name with his team members, partly because he was content enough to be viewed only as the class he chose. But there is another reason as well, one he has gotten more or less over, though the distrustful habit is hard to rid himself entirely of. Mikhail's former life did not allow him to let anyone but his own "kind" inside his circle. For those inside the circle could harm those close to his heart. His own father… almost destroyed the circle Mikhail had, but he kept what remained of his family alive and left behind those who only saw the ferocity of the spirit that chose him. They did not see the man nor the gentler side of his spirit animal. He could not make himself trust others, afraid to let them into his circle and end up endangering those of his blood. His former team understood and accepted that he would never let them get close to his heart.

Then, he was commanded to join another team, and the Elite made him leave his homeland. He was allowed to bring his family with him; there, he met a team that, like his former, kept loved ones safe. He could not trust them personally but knew these people would keep his family safe.

The team he now leads did not trust him, so it was easy to keep them distanced from his heart. Over time, though, as distrust weeded out members, they were replaced with those willing to see past his heritage and the ferocity of his spirit animal. See the heart he kept a tight grip on. Trevor was the first to see who he was; he was the first to treat him like a man and not a beast. He gave Mikhail his name but did not demand the same from him. Simply trusting him to humor him in his somewhat wacky theories. He was the first he told his name, permitting the Scout into his circle and opening up to show his heart and all that came with it.

The next he permitted… well, it's someone he never expected.

Cade and he had not seen each other eye-to-eye for such a long time. Their ancestors' history lingered in both of them, a hated of generations. Yet they both respected the other's strength, even though it took Cade a painfully long time to accept Mikhail as someone much more experienced than him and that he shouldn't judge him for his people's past actions.

They thought they had only found common ground through mutual respect, just enough to trust each other to keep them alive in battle. Mikhail's view did change when Cade, of all people, was the first to suggest he should take the leading role. Denying himself the role the former leader wanted. His words were what made the others agree, and like that, Mikhail was chosen as the new leader. The former had some choice words but couldn't do anything about it.

Cade never gave a reason why he abdicated this strongly for him taking the role, but it was what made Mikhail see that there was more than simple respect between them. So, he allowed Cade into his circle by giving him his name and requesting that this Soldier take the role of second-in-command. Never expected it, but Mikhail is glad to have that loudmouth bastard by his side.

There's another on the team that knows his name, but that is only because she has only known him by that name. His sister, Zhanna. She is the oldest of the three he has, and she wants to join her big brother in the fight, though something tells him that he is not the reason. Mikhail has seen how Zhanna is around Cade.

"Vhat would you have I did?" he asks Demoman, someone he hasn't let into his circle but partly hopes he one day will. Demoman may be strange with his tall tales, but he quickly proved himself worthy, both in battle and socially.

The only thing that holds the man back is something all new members deal with; the inexperience of how cruel being part of the resistance sometimes is. "no matter how I would've cut eet. Tvo members cannot approach such bueeldings."

Demoman is, however, one who knows enough of the world to be aware that picking direct fights with the Magisterium is risky at best and straight-out suicide at worst. "it does nae feel right. Leavin' our friends behind."

He hums in agreement. "Never easy. Hope you never have to make that call."

"Have you?"

"Yes, once." Leaning up against the railing, it gives a bit from the weight but otherwise stays strong. "The formyer team got peenned. Our leader commanded us to ryetreat." Sasha sits up; she, too, recalls that day. It was one of the terrible days, one of the first where he learned the hardships his heritage would bring. "I vas with our Medic; I vas using a big log as cover, and I was baryely strong enough to carry it alongseede Sasha. I told him to use me as a sheeld, but he did not trust me. So, I left him behind."

"I take he died."

Mikhail wished that was the case, but that Medic was a tough nut to crack in more ways than he liked to admit. "No, he survived, zough barely. He claeemed I was planning on keelling him." he puts a hand on Sasha's head, brushing a hand over the hidden scar from where that distrust claimed the life of that Medic. "maybe eef he didn't think like that, he vould've been alive."

Demoman titles his head so their eyes meet, a subtle expression of curiosity over the torn face. "how did th' doc die?"

"He refused to approach me. Deceeded to trust his failing coyer over me. The coyer failed." Demo snorts, and Mikhail can only nod in agreement. "He deed leave the lyesson on how important trust among team ees."

Sylvia snorts, almost as if she found this long-dead Medic's action offending. "Idiot… prefer to have his pride intact instead of living."

"Ay, agree with th' lassie." Demoman salutes up to the magpie; he then opens up another bottle of beer. "Next time, ye shuid tell that story instead o' th' lecture aboot trust."

"Maybe," He hums, amused by how Demoman gave him a flag for his occasional reminders to the team that they did not have to like one another. Still, they need to trust each other nonetheless. "but my lecture does hold merit." For right now, he and Demo have to trust these different members if they ever wish to save their team.

Demo opens his mouth, but sounds from below deck quiet him down, Mikhail hears a bit of quiet chatter, and one by one, the others appear. Demoman smiles and waves his bottle at them. "Hawp ye didn't mynd ah teuk a bawherr o` yer stuff."

"Nah, it's there faw this reason." Sniper waves the slight thievery off, and he finds a spot at one of the barrels; although calm, Mikhail takes note that this man has a guarded look. One he recognizes from himself and many others who have been in this fight long enough.

The Spy is much more open, and he is still figuring out how far they can push the trust. He has refused to remove the mask, something only distrustful members do to other members. He also avoids eye contact altogether, and his current snake-shaped daemon clings to his arm with a tense stare. Mikhail notes that this Spy will be a tough nut to crack, but if this similar distrustfulness will come and bite him, or if the Spy here is willing to open up on his own. That is a good question that will very well only be answered if they all get out of this mission alive and if Spy here decides to be part of his team.

The Engineer is more like Demoman, "Did you sleep well enough?" he is trying to be friendly and open to forge the much-needed trust.

"Aye, better than th' not-so-safe, safe. house" Demoman replies and gives this ship a proper look. "This ship is curious. Not a model, I know, and what's wit' th' mast? It's lik' it kin be retracted."

"Eet can." Spy speaks up, but it is the Engineer who shines a light on this unusual ship: "It's one of mah models, one of a kind. It's an airship."

This takes Mikhail by surprise. Can this boat get up in the air? And this Engineer designed and built it? em' Now I definitely want him on my team.'/em All the Engineers he knows about got nothing on this man. Hell, this Engineer might rival the Conagher family. "Eempressive. You have some talent." He praises this man.

"Ah, it's nothin'." Engineer brushes the praise aside, too humble to brag about this wonder of air-ships. His daemon, on the other hand, "Don't be like that. But I do wish it was bigger." the beaver has a mischievous smirk over her muzzle. "All the things we could put into them, the Magisterium got.." the man chuckled embarrassingly but did seem exhilarated by the very idea.

"Care tae gimme a tour?" Demoman asks, and with a big grin, "I ken a lot about boats, bit this is a wonder among they I hae seen." The Engineer beams, and both leave for this small tour.

While those two get all excited about something he has little interest in. Mikhail turns his attention to the others. The Sniper and Spy are simply idling by, though the latter is showing signs he is eager to get started on his part of the mission. Mikhail wants to get started as soon as possible as well. "Spy, ready for your part?" The man nods.

Good, then they no longer have to hide out in the inlet. "Take the ship to Bristol." The Sniper leaves his spot to do so, and the ship sails towards the city.

It happens in relative silence; only the Engineer and Demoman share their interest in ships and creating weapons from metal. The alethiomist reader is playing with the biggest otter he has ever seen. The Spy stares at the approaching city, but Mikhail does take note that the snake daemon is looking at him. "'ow many more people weaponize zeir daemon?" The Spy breaks the silence and is polite enough to look at him. "We 'avén't encountaired othairs wiv the same idea."

"Not many gawt daemon at that soize either." the Sniper remarks.

Mikhail quirks a smile at those two words and does agree with them. Only a few people take advantage of their daemon like he does. "I like guns," He states, and a hand on his soul partner's head. "Only fair she has her own gun."

"|I like to hear it sing|" She voices, though in their mother language. Sasha never bothered learning Germanic as he did.

"Yur Demoman got ze same idea."

That is correct. Demo made special bombs for his wolverine to use in battle. "Yes, they call them steeckies. Built to stick to valls." Mikhail has seen how devastating these bombs can be. The Scotsman is one of those people who can be quite far away from his daemon before it begins to hurt. An advantage they both use to the full extent. Now that he thinks about it. "Our team preeded themselves on using daemon een battle. Many of our daemons vere big."

The Sniper has a small daemon, but she's always on the lookout, so that man, too, is taking advantage of her.

The Spy, he's not sure, "Your daemon vas volf before, Spy. Surely, you must've used her fangs."

The spy glances at the small snake on his arm, a sour expression on his masked face. "no, I rarély send her into battel."

"Shame. Vould be useful." He points out, but unless this Spy decides to join his team, Mikhail won't push this topic further. Something tells him the man is not comfortable with the subject. So, instead, he decides to focus on the upcoming mission: "Any ideas on how to eenfiltrate the facileety?"

"a few, but I need time to see eet through." Spy replies while lighting a cigarette, "Viper knows I am comeng; any trik 'e taught me, I cannot use. Has to re-lee on what I lairned throughoot my career as a reseestancé mémbair."

He figured it wouldn't be easy, but hopefully, this Spy can pull it off. This man does have one advantage. Others do not. "You have an yasier time heeding. Viper cannot predict vhat daemon you got."

"No, but I am… Somuhat limited een what forms she takes." Spy sullenly admits, and he exchanges a look with the Sniper, but Mikhail cannot say whatever wordless exchange they made. Only the entire thing with his daemon is a touchy subject. "I should 'ave a propair plan een a few weeks."

"His team does not have that long." Sylvia speaks up, making the newcomers look at her. The magpie spreads out her healthy wing, making an almost human gesture to the city: "My partner gives me the feeling that those team members only have a week, one of them less so."

Spy hides it well, but the sharp glare reveals enough about his feelings about the tight time schedule. "what do you propose, zen?" he retorts with a hint of sneer.

"I'm only stating the facts if you want the prisoners alive." The magpie says.

Mikhail wants what remains of his team out alive. Enough have died. "Can I ask the aletheeometyer some questeeons?" He addresses the reader of the device.

She stops goofing around with her daemon and looks at him somewhat annoyedly. "Only if Engie is de one askéng."

This confuses him a bit, but the scars on her body do explain enough as to why this woman is reluctant to let just anyone ask the questions. He heads out and finds the man, showing Demoman the intricacy of this ship. "Engineer," the man jumps, startled by his calling. The man turns around, and Mikhail requests, "Can you ask the reader some questeeons? My team does not have long."

"Sure thing. What do you need to know?"

At least this man is more willing to help him out. He feared for a moment that he would have to go through needless hoops and whatnot before the alethiomist read the truth device. "Spy needs a quick vay to infeeltrate the facileety."

The Engineer nods and goes over to ask the reader the question. With him asking, the woman is much more agreeable and, almost eagerly, goes to ask the alethiometer the questions. Mikhail approaches, curious as to how this individual does it, as she clearly is not carrying the books needed for translation. She turns the three pins to the snake, the tree, and lastly, the chameleon. Curiously, the otter moves so he can look at the device, and the woman goes in a strange hyper-focus on the larger and now moving pin.

She snaps out of this trance when the otter breaks his stare on the device and turns to Engineer. "Dey are looking fór an ext'ra jhire. Dey won't look too deep into dose looking for de jop."

That's where he realizes what he got, the rare breed of people who can read the alethiometer by sheer intuition.

Safety risk be dammed; Mikhail would be a fool if he declined the opportunity of having her on the team. ' If I persuade this Engineer to stay. She will most likely tag along.' So he has to figure out how to make the Engineer decide to stay with this team.

"Why?" Spy asks, like any other of his class. Does always expect the worst.

The woman shrugs and rereads the truth device. When the answer is given to her, "Sómeting about it is a ter'ible jop, ant de people ar'e too busy with dose we wiss to resque."

Demoman chuckles, and Mikhail is equally amused, both knowing who is making the enemy busy. "Ay, that sounds like Solly." The Engineer and Spy look at the Scotsman. "he has a talent fur making lee solid fur whoever he deems unworthy o' his respect."

The Spy trashes the bud of his cigarette. "I can use zat. Of curse, there's always ze risk of Viper finding out, but as you said." The reddish-brown meets his moss green. "Time is short." That it indeed is, and Mikhail has every intention of getting his team out of this alive.

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"Demoman, breeng Engineer to the Forge." Heavy calls over to him.

Tavish nods and gestures for this greenhorn but incredibly talented builder to come along. "It's a wee bit far from 'ere, but it should hae everything you'll need."

"whould?" Engineer's daemon asks suspiciously, and Tavish has to admit to the man: "Na idea if it got ransacked."

The man grabs a toolbox and, with it on his shoulder, leaves this wonder of an airship. He led the man to the official blimps transport and noticed the nervous look on his face. "No worries. We always carry tickets." He had to, as they couldn't always find enough cars for the entire team. Heavy always drove, though, due to his daemon being too recognizable. "we used tae travel in wee groups to our targets." He handed one of these tickets to the Engineer. "It's easier not getting spotted that way."

"Smart." Engineer remarks. Soon enough, they are flying to the nearest city where the Forge is located. At Worchester, Tavish snatches a truck for the last stretch of the journey, and they need it for the trip back.

It's dark when arriving at the place, and amusingly, the golden beaver remarks dryly, "This Forge does not live up to its name."

Not by first glance, it just looks like an ordinary and worn down industry building. "it looks better oan th' inside." he ensures the Engineer. Heading inside, Tavish notices that everything is still as it should be. Everything sat in alphabetic order, and approaching the heart of the Forge, he heard the hammer and felt the heat of the workplace. "huh, either someone else took over,or we might be jammy, 'n' he's aye alive." Lucky for the team as a whole, but not fortunate for the Engineer here. Stepping into the room, the owner of the Forge is in full swing with his work.

Hasn't noticed them at all; he is too busy pouring the right amount of gunpowder into the shells he has made. The moment the man is done, Tavish calls, "ey, Engie! Good to see you!"

The other engineer jumps at his call. Turns around and stares for a couple of seconds before saying, "Oh, hey, you're alive. Good." he points at a shelf full of ammunition. "I vas running out 'f space." his swallow daemon lands on his shoulders and flips her head around as his mind does. "No one has cone for a while." The man resumes work by making more bullets, an odd hobby of his. "so kindly tairke them all. I got tree boxes 'f minigun bullets, twe'y cases 'f a shotgun, tree pistols, and jist finished mor' two case 'f a revolver."

"I kin tak' th' load aff yer hands." Tavish grins and gestures to his engineer to follow over and grab all this ammunition. While they both carry what they can to the truck, "Looks lik' ye don't need tae mak' any."

The Engineer has a confused frown on his slightly battered face. "Your Heavy said your team needed an Engineer, but you called this man Engie."

Oh, right, he's a greenhorn "He's a Nomad." Tavish explains, and this bullet-making man is that for an excellent reason. "he's nae fit for battle. I'm not sure what's up wit' him, but he has a shorter attention span than a fuse o' dynamite." They put the cases into the truck, making sure there's space for the rest. "the only thing he seems able tae focus oan is making bullets. A hobby o' his."

"So he only supports the resistance by makin' bullets for the teams?"

"Yup," Tavish nods, saying that this Engineer got it. "If the Magisterium had come 'n' asked, he would most likely hae done th' identical fur them. The only thing keeping him fae it's that he's scared o' the dogs th' Magisterium soldiers usually got." Now that he thinks about it, "he might be scared o' any muckle daemon with teeth."

The beaver makes a small laugh. "I take Heavy cannot approach the Forge without causin' this poor fella a panic attack."

"Something like that." Demoman laughs, and from what he recalls. This Engineer had been helping the teams before Heavy got the title of team leader. "I never tested it out, though. Th' teams need this guy."

"Are you goin' tuh tell him about what happened?"

His smile drops at the reminder. At the moment, they are still trying to figure out the answer as to why none of the other teams have reacted to their calls. They might all be gone… "I can't tell him. As ye micht hae clocked, Nomad Engie is flighty aroond me." Taipa tells the newcomer. "A'm a tad tae muckle 'n' predatory fur him tae be comfy." Hence why he's not approaching this flighty man. "maybe one o' the Lassies can inform 'n' figure out what tae do wi' him."

Engineer nods and, with no further words, gets the rest of the boxes and cases of ammunition into the truck. With the last in hand, Nomad Engie calls, "Kan yow bring more gunpowder next time? Preferable someone with a… friendlier daemon- like him." The man gestures over to Engineer, and the Nomad resumes work with; "Yeah, he eems nise enow. Beavers are fine, jist a rodent."

"Uh, 'preciate it." Engineer calls, but the other in the same class do not react. Too enthralled by his work. Tavish chuckles and nods for the man to follow. Outside, the beaver remarks, "That was an odd fella."

"He's guid enough wance ye git used tae his oddity." He chuckles, and when sure, the load is correctly held in place. "How tired are ye? We got a lang road ahead, 'n' me eye is getting heavy."

Engineer replies by getting into the driver's seat, "You still have tuh guide me. I'm not known in them parts."

Sure, he can do that. "For starters, yi''ll need tae be oan th' ither side o' th' road." The look the Engineer gives him is enough for Tavish to know that neither of them is going to get any rest before they are back in Bristol.

The man at "The Forge" is a quick OC, and he won't return unless I see a good reason. Only there to show that not every member of the Resistance have been wiped out. there are pockets here and there, dealing with the same uncertainty as those we follow in this story.