Survival is Crucial

Paradise Warfare

Nixon looked to the door as an array of footsteps echoed through a hallway right outside. Yua, Balrog, and Justin enter, Yua running in as quickly as she could before running into Nixon's arms, wrapping herself around him, holding him as tightly as she could. Nixon looked at her with a stunned expression on his face, wide-eyed. "Wait... how."

"It took weeks, asshole!" Her muffled scream could be heard as she buried her face into Nixon's chest. Marshall sighed, looking over to Balrog.

"Why'd you bring her here?" Marshall pointed to her, then pointed to Justin, "Who the f**k is that?"

"I'm Justin." Justin waved.

Marshall shook his head, looking back over to the Balrog, "Did you get soft since I've last seen you?"

The Balrog looked at him with a confused expression before crossing to a corner of the room, sitting down onto a table as Hagne and Costanzo entered the room. Costanzo ran inside, shaking in fear as Hagne shook her head, rubbing the bridge of her nose. The Balrog sighed watching them come in before looking back over to Marshall, "There's someone approaching, they're harmless, so let them in."

Marshall shook his head, "What!? Why would we do that?"

"You'll see," He pointed to the door, "They aren't a threat."

"Why would that change anything?"

Balrog pointed to Justin, "Why do you think I brought him?"

Marshall sighed, "I'll trust your judgment, but I'll be cautious."

"They aren't the one you should be cautious towards, Marshall." A grave tone came across Balrog, moving crossing to the other side of the room and entering a bathroom. A knock came from outside the door which led to a hallway. Hagne nodded, moving back into the hallway.

Nixon sighed, hitting Marshall on the shoulder, Yua still holding him as hard as she could. "Hey, Marshall."

"Hm?"

"We've been house hopping for weeks, when the f**k are we going to finally find the Esravos base?"

"Whenever Maxim returns to us, other than that, I have not a clue."

"Hey, guys!" Hagne yelled from the hallway, "You're going to wanna see this!"

"What!?" Marshall yelled back as Hagne escorted a young man into the room. Long black hair reaching his shoulders, sapphire-colored eyes, the faint remnants of a mustache sitting just above his upper lip. He's wearing a muted orange shirt with baggy black pants, a capoeira belt still wrapped around his waist -- barefoot. Yes, this is Tyche. "Are you...?"

"Can I wash up?" He pointed to his hair, "It grows quickly so I'd like to clean myself up." He looked slightly more run-down than before.

"Who...?" Nixon looked to the both of them with a quizzical expression on his face.

Marshall pointed to Tyche, "This dude is the other bounty."

"Yeah..." Tyche started, "I saw someone I recognized and followed him, didn't expect to lead me to an ally." He scanned the room with a cautious glare. "Though..." Tyche pointed to Marshall, "You aren't an ally."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's nothing... you're harmless right now anyway."

Marshall waved it away, "Just get yourself washed up," He snapped his fingers, "Though one of our guys is washing right now, so you'll have to wait."

"Okay." Tyche sighed, sitting right between Nixon and Marshall, "I have a question for..." Tyche pointed to Marshall.

"I'm Marshall, Marshall Bishop."

Tyche nodded, "I have a question for you."

"What?"

"Why are you assisting," Tyche paused, "Nixon," He turned to Nixon, "That's your name, right?"

Nixon nodded and Marshall sighed, "What are you getting at?"

"Why are you assisting Nixon?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, there are certain people out there that have certain smells to them. At first, I wasn't able to tell that they had a peculiar smell, but as I encountered a few, which is like two... I noticed it. It's either grotesque in scent, it pricks your nose, et cetera, it's very noticeable. To be honest, I gagged a few times walking here, though I'd credit the first few times to your compatriot in the bathroom there." Tyche took a deep breath, letting it be apparent that he felt anxious about the whole situation as a whole.

Marshall's jaw visibly tightened, "What are you getting at...?" Marshall sighed, scratching the back of his head."

"You already know, but I'll collaborate for now, but don't think I'll do it for long." Tyche pointed to Nixon, "I'm his ally only here, not yours." He pointed to Marshall, "You got that?"

"I seriously don't know what the hell you're talking about."

Tyche looked back over to Nixon, "Sorry." He stood up, "I probably stunk, huh?"

"I've smelt worse," Nixon chuckled, "How long has it been since you've washed?" Yua turned to Tyche, still holding onto Nixon.

"It's been a while. It was a f****d journey to get here." Tyche made a solemn expression. Nixon hesitated to ask and tried to speak up, but he couldn't get a word out before Tyche continued, "Hey, I want to do this thing..." He shook his head, "Sorry, I want us to get to know each other better since we're in a similar predicament."

"Okay..."

"I'm Tyche Asmodeus Hunt, you?"

"Nixon Driver Jr., nice to meet you."

Tyche nodded, "Nice to meet you too. Now... I want to tell me your motivation."

"Hm?"

"I'll tell you mine, we gotta know each other better after all."

Nixon sighed, "Alright, well. I want to survive, and I want to beat a certain man. He's quite the inhuman thing... uh... I really can't describe him. Is that good enough?"

"That's fine, well..." Tyche paused for a moment, thinking of something while staring up at the ceiling, "I want... revenge."

"On who?"

"Three people, I believe. But, the third is someone I'm not quite sure I have a grudge against yet."

"Who are these people?"

"The first is the de facto leader of the Escravos, he's referred to as the Manager, I believe. Though he seems to be doing his own excursions as of late..." Tyche looked to the hallway, stopping as if to feel the air, "He seems to be closing in." Tyche pointed to Marshall, "Might be looking for you."

"Why would he?"

Tyche shrugged.

"Wait, the de facto leader is closing in?" Nixon asked with a startled expression on his face.

"Yeah, but it's with an Asian dude, he can smell like I can."

"Right, what is this smelling thing?"

"I can smell those who have powers."

Yua raised an eyebrow, "Powers?"

Nixon gave her a noogy, "It's better you don't know. It's hard to explain anyway since we barely understand it ourselves."

"Ah!" Tyche put a balled hand into his palm, "I should tell you about myself now! Sorry, got distracted, where was I?" Tyche paused to think again, "Okay... so. I was born in Oregon, then moved to Los Angeles for college." Tyche stopped himself, "Wait... no. I forgot we were only supposed to tell each other about motivations." Tyche pointed to the hallway, "Also, It's best that we just let the de facto leader inside since we'll have the advantage of surrounding him, plus, he doesn't seem to have any ill intentions, if he does, well, let me reiterate, we have the advantage."

"What's up with people wanting to let others in willy nilly, sheesh." Marshall shook his head, "We're-"

"He's already here."

"What!?" Nixon yelled as the Manager entered as quickly as he had arrived, the Asian guy cautiously entering the room with him.

A grave expression came across Tyche's face, cursing under his breath as a thick miasma entered the room. The Balrog opened the door to the bathroom, leaning on the seal as he stared at the Manager dead in the eyes.

The Manager noticed, "Well, we're f****d right out the gate." He pointed to the Balrog, "Doesn't matter though." He looked over to Marshall, then back to the Asian man, "So...?"

"Too many smells." The Asian man commented.

"The hell do you mean by that?"

"You, asshole!" The Asian man shot back causing the Manager to break out into laughter. "Why the f**k did we just f*****g waltz in here for?"

"It's because, this is where your nose led you right, so what does it smell like?"

The Asian man screwed up his nose, "Ash, fallout... worse than death."

A smile went across the Manager's face, "Right, and who smells like that?"

Wait! Wait!" Nixon yelled, just before the Asian man pointed.

"What?" Anxiety was spread across Marshall's face.