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Character Cloak

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One Handsome Rogue

"There you go, good boy, good boy. Here, have some coffee beans..."

Of course, they were artificial, but Cloak doubted the Thomas cared at all about empty calories.

Cloak and his newly acquired mount had been stalking the sands for some time now. Common people would usually advise against riding out without having any idea of your intended destination, but Cloak was not most people. Besides, the assassins had left one hell of a trail in their wake, bits and pieces of what he assumed had been those flyers pursuing them littered the ground, some fires still had yet to extinguish. Cloak did not envy those pilots, he knew that much.

He'd also found what he'd beloved to at be the aftermath of that bright flash. Even from within May City he had caught a glimpse of it. People would be talking about that one. The sand here seemed scorched and nothing but ash existed within the blast area. Halves and quarters of flyers had crashed into the sand. It didn't look as if they had been tuned down, it looked as if someone took a giant blade and sliced through them in mid-air. That was just the first thought that came to his mind anyway.

What the hell had he gotten mixed up in now?



-Hours Later-

Cloak was down to half a bottle of water, he had been planning on letting his Thomas drink it and then carry his unconscious body. Luckily, it never came to that, as Cloak had encountered a large ship-like structure that seemed to have been grounded some time ago. Cloak dismounted his Thomas, upon further inspection he found final confirmation of his conclusion, Oberoth's steamer parked near some sort of large door looking thing. Oh they were here.

Stepping forward to the door, one hand in his pocket and his cloak open in a way in which Jack and Mary were clearly visible to any onlookers in front of him, Cloak banged on the door with his fist.

"Did anyone order one handsome rogue!?"

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