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Ask to Join Fractured Realm - A Fantasy RP

(Hello! Thanks for checking out this RP ^^ If you want to take part in it, visit this thread and feel free to post your biography!)

~~~

Of all the moments to find out that you were afraid of heights, the worst time was when you were standing on the deck of an airship that had just cast off.

Wren gripped the railing as tightly as she could, teeth grinding and knees almost buckling under her. She could feel the ship’s swaying in her stomach, and something in her mind screamed at her to get away from the railing before she fell over it, but her hands refused to let go.

The sea breeze whipped at her robes, and she tried to steel herself against her fear as she watched the towering wooden skydock and other buildings floating on the ocean below get smaller and smaller. The view gave her a sense of scale of the ocean that she had never considered before- how it stretched out eternally in all directions, only occasionally interrupted by mountains.

The winds began to quiet down and the floor stopped tilting at a certain height. She wrung her hands free from the railing and made a beeline for the central column on the deck, a chrome pipe running from below deck to the oval balloon keeping the ship aloft. She was no mechanic, but she knew that the engines produced a lighter-than-air gas from enchanted ores and fed it into the balloon to keep the ship aloft. It didn’t make her feel better that the only thing keeping them from dropping into the ocean miles below was a single machine.

She sat down by the column, which gave of a pleasant warmth, with her back to a wooden crate tied down with ropes. Feeling safer, she allowed herself a glance around the rest of the deck. There were a few other people milling about on the deck, some recognizable as crew, others looking like outsiders like her- most of the latter equally unstable on their feet.

She pulled her hood a bit further over her face, hoping she could just observe the others travelling illegally to Skyland for now. She was interested in them, though, deep down; What were their stories? What had made them want to take the trip?
 
Hayden stood leaning back onto the side of the airship he was taking illegally up to Skyland. As it took of, the wierd sensation of flying sunk into his chest. Nothing bad, just that I'm flying. To Hayden, flying felt like his left arm. Almost as if you were there, touching something, but not exactly.
He looked down at the ground below him, an area far above his normal home in the core. Hayden tried to keep the sun out of his eyes, for he was unused to the brightness it emited. Forcing past the brightness, the lad looked up to the bow of the boat to the Skylands. As he starred at the sky, a girl ran past his vision to the center of the ship. Unsure of what happened, and the thought of talking with a female, Hayden slowly walked over to Wren.
As he made it over to Wren, it became evident she was trying to keep stable. "Try looking to the horizon. Focus your vision there, it helps." His uncle taught him that when he flew for the first time out of the Core to the Surface. He slowly sat down next to her, his metal arm making a solid 'Thump' as it hit the deck. "Name's Hayden, yours?"
 
Axel stood on the stern deck of the Skyship, calmly observing the main deck. Some of the stowaways were mingling, probably getting to know each other, and the like. Most of them looked relatively normal. Most seemed like quiet strangers. Perfect. A rebellion was fueled by strangers. To Axel, it was absurd that the people of the Skylands were privileged more than the Core and Surface dwellers. As the ship cast off, Axel reached into his pocket and pulled out two rocks. They looked a bit like slates, but smaller. He threw them in front of him, almost crushing the head of another stowaway, and using his Petrakinesis, levitated them in front of him. He stepped onto them, and levitated himself out, near the center of the deck. As the ship was rising up and trying to find a wind current, Axel stayed in place, and let the deck rise to his level in the sky, until he was no longer levitating. He quickly surveyed. Several people, crew and stowaways, had turned around and looked at him curiously.
 

ArmedBlue

Previously Manu456Alola
Manuel held on thightly to the railing, being his first time flying. The Skyship had taken off to the Skyland, where he could get to explore the world. He looked down while the ship kept rising, seeing the place from where the ship took off slowly getting out of sight, as the only thing left down there were the islands and the water that spread infinitely in all directions, seeming to have no end.

As the floor stopped tiliting and everything seemed to calm down, Manuel slowly let go of the railing, now sure that he wouldn't fall off the ship. Looking around at the other passengers that had taken the ship illegally up to Skyland, he spotted a male way taller and well built that him, who seemed to had tried to go faster than the ship, before it had catched up to him and he was no longer levitating.
Showoff. Manuel thought to himself as he looked at the male, raising a brow, before his dark brown eyes looked back at the other passengers.
 
Wren was about to snap something rude at the man approaching her, practically as a reflex. She’d spent enough time around men who’d liked to bother her in Shadow Bay. But then the man simply offered some advice, sounding well-meaning enough. Wren decided it wasn’t worth it to put people off quite this early into the journey.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Wren mumbled, barely audible over the wind. The man took a seat next to her and introduced himself as Hayden. He had an interesting contrast- black hair, but eyes a milky white; despite this, he didn’t seem to be blind.

“Wren.” She replied to him. It was the only name of hers worth knowing. No one but her brother called her Tempest, and Goldwren was a name she’d been given, not chosen- but she was certainly not about to start introducing herself as an Albaster.

She didn’t attempt to continue the conversation. Either Hayden would fill the silence or get bored and leave her; either was fine by her. In the meanwhile, she took his advice, focusing her eyes on the horizon to counter the swaying of the ship. It didn’t make the nausea go away with any hurry, but she felt her vertigo slowly dissipate.
 
Gretel had decided that she was not a fan of flying, not in the slightest. She could barely manage to stand up on the deck of the ship without focusing on keeping steady. Instead she found herself sitting on the ship's floor, leaning against a cargo crate with a death grip on her all but empty burlap sack, fearing that the wind would blow it away if she let it go for even a second.

Still, even though the ride up may not be the greatest experience, Gretel was sure that it would all be worth it. The pampered folk of the Skyland would probably pay some good coin for a bodyguard, and she might be able to improve her Pyromancy while she was up there; mages usually got payed better than the average Joe. Plus, if all else failed, there was always the raid and pillage option. The Core dweller was sure that at least a few of these blue bloods were more vulnerable than others.

Once the ship had stableized, Gretel got up off the floor with her sack still in hand and took a moment to eye up some of her fellow stowaways. Some of them seemed to be like her: Core dwellers looking to climb out of the darkness one way or another. A couple others seemed to be from the surface. Maybe it was some twisted sense of pride, but Gretel always thought of afore dwellers as tougher than those above them. She briefly thought of talking to one of them, but ultimately decided against it. The lot of them didn't seem that sociable anyway.
 

Mr.RMA

Magearna before it was cool
Sitting cross-legged atop one of the larger cargo crates, Bennett seemed to be in a deep state of meditation... or rather, it might've looked that way, but really, his silence and concentration all came down to something a little less... deep. Much like the others, he was simply attempting to adjust to the terribly unnatural feeling of flying for the first time. Whilst some clung to the rails or tried to sway with the rocking motions or something of that ilk, the fugitive Core-dweller decided to just not bother trying to stand, not until things at least got a bit more stable... or maybe he'd just not get on his feet until they arrived. He was still on the fence regarding that one, but for now he was taking this moment to relax while he had the chance. He didn't expect to get many opportunities like this once they made it to Skyland, not with the plans he had in mind.

Listening in to some of the conversations and interactions of his fellow stowaways, he was rather surprised with just how... casually, some of them seemed to be taking this whole affair, cheerily milling about like they weren't doing something terribly illegal that could have major repercussions if they got caught by the sort that cared about stopping this sort of thing. Maybe he was just more on edge from his own experiences but... he'd thought this would be one of those things where people had to be on the quieter side. Apparently not so, at least for now, though he wouldn't be surprised if they eventually had to get more inconspicuous once they got closer to their destination. He'd already instinctively had his hood draped over his face, hiding most of his facial features, namely his eyes... or rather, eye, plus empty socket. Usually he didn't mind if people gave him suspicious looks regarding his ocular injury, but he didn't want to potentially startle anyone while they were miles up in the air with only a flimsy rail to catch someone if they stumbled too far back. He may've had blood on his hands, but he liked to think it was always justified. He didn't need that sort of accident on his conscience.
 
Hayden sighed at the lack of conversation. "Judging by your tan skin, I'd say your a surface dweller." That was obvious, due to the drastic skin tone change between the two. "What's it like being in the sun?"
(Sorry for short post, I'm quite busy. Had to put in to continue stpry)
 
Axel stepped off his stones and plopped down next to two stowaways in conversation. "Horrible, I bet." he said, replying to the male's question. He took a moment to observe the two new people. The guy was average height, with black hair and freaky white eyes. The girl who now sat directly next to him was short, with long blonde hair. He leaned back on the large post that the others were sitting by and said, "Name's Axel." He used his petrakinesis to pull his slates to him, and set them on his lap. "You are. . ?"
 
Hayden held up his hand to stop the new person. "Mr.Metal Arm. Nice to meet you." He said, lefting up his left hand now. The arm was covered by his sleeve, but the fingers caught the sun reflecting over to Axel's body. Quick judge on his idea of the sun, an answer became provided for Hayden. "Your from the core, right? Anywhere near Rendezvous?" He asked, in hope for someone near his popular hometown.
 
Axel looked at the other stowaway incredulously. Mr Metal Arm? Freak. Axel replied to his question. "Citi Cave. Fifty miles northeast of Rendezvous. But that doesn't matter anymore. Any idea where we're docking? Hopefully Mountain Plaza. Lots of rocks." he said. He grinned, slightly self conscious of that statement.
 
Just when Hayden asked Wren about her life on the surface, something she could see a newly escaped core dweller being interested in hearing about, another man joined the conversation, saving her from having to make more small talk. She figured she could have had a much worse band of companions than this handful who were merely talkative- No one here seemed to have the Shadow Bay spirit.

The second man, taller and with piercingly blue eyes, introduced himself as Axel- clearly, no one felt the need to give up their last name, Wren included. The two chatted about their places of origin within the Core, before Axel asked if either of them knew where the ship would dock. Wren stood up, feeling a little bit more human as the winds began to quiet down, and stretched. Everyone on the deck seemed to tower over her, save for one.

"I heard the captain talking with one of his sailors when I boarded. Something about heading for Harvok." She replied. "It's one of the bigger and dodgier towns on the edge of the continent. We'll be less likely to be seen when we're dropped off." With that said, she simply wandered away, leaving the two men to their own chat. It was unlikely she'd find a quiet enough spot on this small deck. Another stowaway caught her eye; the only other woman she'd seen on board. She was rugged-looking, not someone Wren would pick a fight with. A good companion, perhaps, to have in the first leg of this journey.

She approached the woman. "You look like you've been through the veins of the Core plenty of times." Wren said, eyeing the scars on the woman's knuckles. "What brings you way the hell up here?"
 
Gretel, embarrassingly enough, had been so absorbed in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice that one of the stowaways had approached her until she opened her mouth. From appearance alone, the young woman didn't seem to be all that intimidating, save for the hood that was partially covering her face. In fact, she wasn't threatening in the slightest, especially with those long locks flowing down from her head. The girl was clearly a Mage though, and therefore was not to be taken lightly. It was probably best to stay on this lady's good side for now. At least until Gretel got a better idea of her motives and abilities. Weighing her options, the mercenary decided to humor the girl with a conversation.

"Aye, I've had my share of scuffles." In truth, "scuffles" was putting it very lightly, but Gretel wasn't one to whine about it. It was just life, after all. "Figured the fancy folk upstairs would have more coin to spare for a sellsword." Gretel paused for a moment before continuing. "And yourself? I mean no offense, but ya don't look to be wanting for much. What's your story?"
 
Wren gave a slight smile when the woman responded in kind, speaking with the slight accent reminiscent of lifelong Core dwellers. The woman had eyed her oddly when she first started talking, almost as if she was sizing her up. In conversation, though, she was pleasant enough.

She introduced herself as a sellsword looking to get hired by the rich and powerful. Wren figured that was likely true enough, considering the woman’s impressive weaponry.

“I’ve only thing in mind. I want to get better at magic, and I figured there’s a lot more to learn up there than on the surface.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but not a lie, either. “I’ve heard accounts of the things they teach up there, and I want to take part in it- though I think I have something to teach them, too.” She said, smiling.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been to the Core, being a lifelong surface dweller. Is it true what they say about down there? The enormous stone cities, the miles-wide cave systems?” She asked. “Maybe I’ll take a trip down there if I ever get sick of the Skyland.”
 

Mr.RMA

Magearna before it was cool
Bennett had chosen to remain silent as conversations went on all around him... until he heard the woman draped in robes discuss possibly visiting the Core. Letting out a weary sigh, he pushed himself off the crates, managing to steady himself fairly well as he approached the two women in conversation.

"I strongly suggest you save yourself such a trip, Miss. I hate to intrude upon your conversation, but I simply couldn't avoid voicing my concern over anyone ever considering visiting that horrid place." Despite his skin looking rather tanned by years of sunlight exposure, he also spoke in an accent that denoted Core-dwelling origins.

"I'll tell you what I told many surface-dwellers who spoke similarly to you... Better to risk a life of dullness and safety than to ever go underground, unless you have yourself a rather specific death wish. The stubborn humans who still dwell there would do well to get it in their heads that they're living in a defunct, primitive era, willfully abandoned by the rest of their kind."
 
Ah, so that was it. Gretel wasn't sure why she hadn't thought of it earlier; there had to be plenty of Surface mages that could only dream of getting close to the libraries of the Skyland. It wasn't too crazy to assume that some would be willing to bend the law a bit to get there. The mercenary couldn't help but cringe a bit at the young mage's naïveté. Those stone cities she seemed so excited about were mostly slums riddled with filth and smoke emanating from the cracks of magma that provided most of what little light they had. The Mage spoke of the caverns as if they were some tourist attraction instead of the monster infested deathtraps they were. Sure, even the Core had its wealthy districts, but Gretel had next to no experience with those sections. They were usually well guarded, and very picky about who was allowed inside.

Before Gretel could get a word in edgewise though, a newcomer had arrived on the scene. The man in question was a very tall and muscular fellow, with distinctly tan skin that had Gretel thinking he was another Surface dweller. That was, until he opened his mouth and spoke. No doubt about it, that accent belonged to a denizen of the Core, though the color of his skin suggested that he'd long since escaped. Funnily enough, he was saying exactly what Gretel was about to say herself. All except for the last remark. What did he mean by 'stubborn,' exactly? Was he seriously looking down on his own people?

"Oí, big guy. You're from the Core too, aint ya? Those 'stubborn humans' of yours are your kin." Gretel had almost completely forgotten the girl at this point. She couldn't help but get a little worked up. After all, she had a father still stuck in the Core, let alone the countless saps that had even less chance of escaping than he did. "Just what're you trying to say, eh?"
 
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Mr.RMA

Magearna before it was cool
Bennett looked over to the taller and bulkier of the two women as she suddenly spoke up, questioning his particular wording. He merely glanced at her for a moment, likely exposing his missing eye more plainly beneath his hood at this angle.

"I speak from experience alone, Miss. Perhaps your city had more right-minded denizens who understood their plight and could openly speak of it. If that's the case, then I am glad my perceptions of other Core-Dwellers are at least partly inaccurate, but in the part of the Core where I come from, such talk is akin to sacrilege. I spent 16 years in the same spot, run by geriatric fools who never knew anything beyond our walls all their lives as they conditioned the youth to accept such a reality as the norm. That conditioning to every generation led to a bunch of ignorant fools, complacent with our imprisonment, on the justification that it provided safety from the evils of the outside. Safety... burrowed in the ground and walled up, as if such a life of enclosure had any worth. I knew but one of the bunch who shared my aspirations to see more of the world, and she stabbed me in the back to fulfill that desire." At that he turned away and sighed.

"I apologize for painting Core-Dwellers with such a broad brush, I should know more than anyone that such a life there can be far from voluntary. All the same, I cannot label the people I lived with as 'kin'. Far as I'm concerned, I have no one that can fit that word's definition."
 
Hayden stood behind Benette, hearing the entire conversation. He reached forward to tap her shoulder. "The core is a good place. It's only bad when idiots go there who can't handle it. I can guess you are one of those." He held up his metal hand. "Those are the people who forced me to do this. And I liked it down there."

Hayden looked at the person dissing the Core with a blank stare allowing his white eyes to do there work. "Maybe I can arrange a trip off this ship for you?" He said meaning he would throw that person to the core. What he heard from the person, it must be a Core dweller from a small town or city. Rules there were manned by the strongest person. But it was safe. His metal hand sent a signal alerting him of all metals around him. It was overwhelming, forcing him to lower his hand. The only downside to his metal arm ment he could only use his magic full power. But he just has to deal with it.
 
"Oh - oh come on, 'yer fuckin'-"

The tobacco neatly arranged in some paper that Farth had put down on his lap blew off, scattering off into the wind as the airship began its ascent towards Skyworld . He bit his lip in frustration. As he scrunched up his paper, his brow scrunched up too. He reached into a pouch on his belt, and pulled out another pinch of the good stuff. Adjusting himself on his very large anvil, he sat with his back to the wind.

Flying on an airship, Lesson Number 1: Pre-roll your cigs.

Whilst many of the other illegal passengers were coming to grips with flying for the first time or taking in the sights, Farth was too engrossed in his own business to even care, as he fiddled and fumbled to get his cigarette juuuuuust right. This was Farth's first time flying, also. A simple A to B. Few hours, maybe a day or to give-or-take, and he would be where he needed to be. That's all there was to it. He held his index finger, covered by his other hand, up to the brown stick-looking-thing protruding from his mouth. A couple of bright embers danced out from the tip of his finger. Farth relished slightly in the warmth coming from the small amount of fire, and inhaled slowly, blowing out a billow of smoke. He wrapped his cloak around him tighter, the cold winds were getting to him. Compared to the sweaty, stuffy condition of The Core's Mines, this gaining breeze felt like ice! Now he was all lit up, he stood his short frame up to get a look at the view. The pint-sized-passenger was just barely able to look over the balcony of the ship's deck without being stood on his trusty, massive chunk of cast iron. Why they even let such a thing as an avil on board, he has absolutely no idea - then again, if it's an illegal flight, I'm sure anything goes.

A blacksmith by trade, Farth didn't really see himself as anyone special. Never bothering to do anything fancy with his magic, he was a young man of practicality. With no personal drive, he only found motivation to do things unless he was told to. He followed in his Father's footsteps and made weapons (very good weapons too), because he was told to. He got up and looked for a job because he was told to. Why was he off to Skyworld then?

Because he was told to. By his Grandfather, to be precise!

Why exactly he had been called up to the lair with the clean air, however, Farth had no idea at all. The only thing on his mind was a chance to make a pretty penny selling his talents. Then again, he only had small ideas and images of what Skyworld looked like from what he'd heard from word of mouth. He had visions in mind of star-spangled buildings, and pristine white paint-jobs on every house that reflected the dazzling, ever-present Sun. Farth looked forward to seeing if his fancy wasn't false.

Farth took another deep drag and brought himself back down to sit on his anvil, looking around at all of the different people that were taking the same journey as him. He overheard a heated debate about the core, and raised his eyebrows in curiosity, leaning in to try and get a listen.

"Maybe I can arrange a trip off this ship for you?" A young looking-lad with pitch black hair looked to start a scrap with an absolute unit of a man. Smirking and shaking his head his with a scoff, Farth laid back using the balcony as a rest as he put his arms behind his head.

Looks like this is going to be a fun trip!
 
Hayden slowly glanced behind him to see the less built person behind him. "Like to see you try." He used his right hand to pull up his left arm's sleave revealing his left arm completely metal. Slowly, Hayden closed his left hand into a fist. The metal around where Farth leaned back on started to crumble and fold away. A chunk of metal shot forward to him and landed in his left hand. It formed into a long Rapier.

Hayden tossed the blade to his right hand as he turned around completely. His senses went on overload at the metal around him. Down at the Core, the metal was never as strong as up here. His white eyes slowly shut until he only saw through the metal around him. "Draw your weapon."
 
OoC: Just so you know, I was quoting Hayden there with that last bit of dialogue, but this should make for some fun regardless!

Relaxed, entertained, and watching the events unfold in front of him, Farth was suddenly dragged out of his comfort zone as the black-haired boy slowly turned his head around to look at him. His snow-white gaze met Farth's lazy stare, which quickly turned to shock as he felt the metal girders of the balcony behind him start to loosen - he didn't want to leave the ship just yet! He leapt up off the anvil and quickly stood up to attention. Great, just great. This was exactly not what he wanted. He took one last puff of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the ground, donning an empathetic tone, his voice became blurred and masked as it came out alongside smoke.

"Hold on a moment kid, I think you've somehow gotten the wrong idea -"

Farth's spine trembled as he jolted up - he coughed on his exhale as his neck was almost pierced by one of the metal beams that were rudely removed from behind him - upon closer inspection it appeared that this young teen was behind him almost falling to his death, and the aforementioned metal beam, which was now quickly forming itself into some sort of sword. Farth could sense minor traces of some form of magic emanating from what appeared to be the teen's metal arm. It looks like there was going to be no explaining his way out of this situation for the spiteful smith.

Hayden closed his eyes as he commanded Farth to move, "Draw your weapon.".

Farth reeled his head back a little and sneered, looking Hayden up and down.

"Alright then you little shit," Farth turned his body around, still keeping his eyes on Hayden as he clasped his hands around his anvil and heaved with a grunt as he 'drew his weapon'. Balancing the anvil on his right shoulder and cradling it with his arm around it, Farth readied himself for battle. "Here it is! Ta-daaaah!" He delivered his dramatic reveal as sarcastically as possible before spitting on the ground in front of him, an angry expression chiseled into his face. The face of a young lad who wasn't in the mood.

"I don't want to fight, and I really can't be bothered for it, but hey, we're all breaking the law here, so what's wrong with a little bloodshed here and there?"
 

Mr.RMA

Magearna before it was cool
Bennett had turned around to address this young man, another Core-Dweller offended by his statements apparently... but this one was just a little more... reckless, to put it lightly. He wasn't intimidated by the insinuation of being tossed off the ship, he'd been faced with such threats before, but he still felt the need to talk all of this over with the temperamental boy.

Before he could get a word out, however, the boy's attentions seemed to stray toward another stowaway, a diminutive yet brawny man with... what was that, an anvil? What an unorthodox choice of weaponry... but if he was capable enough in the muscle department to swing a giant hunk of metal around, then Bennett wasn't going to question the practicality of it. Yet, this hot-headed child he was facing off against was hardly a slouch either, what with that magical control over metal he seemed to have. Whether it was enough to stop something as heavy as an anvil from crushing his skull was up for debate though... and the way this conflict was brewing up, there would be a brawl in short order to put that debate to rest in a rather gruesome manner. God-knows what the consequences would be for all the passengers on an airship well off the ground if such a fight were to break out.

"You two, stop this!" he exclaimed, going so far as to place himself between them, though he didn't go for his own weapon, keeping his arms crossed. "We are hardly in any circumstances to warrant any sort of scuffle here. You could very well endanger everyone on board if you allow this tension to escalate any further, for all our sakes, let cooler heads prevail for now." He turned to Hayden before speaking up again. "You need to take a moment to calm down, young man. If you're so inclined to fight, perhaps consider using your words... and not exclusively for death threats. I don't want to see a couple of battered and bleeding stowaways dragged unconsciously into Skyland just because tempers ran high for a moment. Surely now, you don't want to waste your time with this juvenile squabble either?"
 
Wren looked on with a mixture of amusement and exasperation at the fight that seemed to be breaking out between two fellow stowaways for no particular reason. Hayden, who had seemed quite plesant before, was one of them, and the other was a short but haggard-looking man who had just drawn an entire anvil from his back. This is what happens when you put a few unacquainted men in close quarters, Wren thought to herself. She'd seen it before more often than she could count in the seedy inns and bordellos of Shadow Bay. The shorter man interested her, though. Surely he has to be using some metal manipulation to handle such a heavy thing with ease?

The man who had moments ago started monologueing at her about the dangers of the Core midway through her conversation with the other woman,a tall man with sunset hair and one eye, had shifted his attention to the two quarrelling fighters. He spoke to them in that same Core-influenced but oddly well-articulated accent, trying to dissuade them from starting a fight on the close quarters of the deck. It only now occurred to Wren that a fight could turn ugly for all of them if either of the two decided to use magic instead of just their weapons, and she was glad someone else was doing what she hardly thought she had the bravery to do.
 
Axel turned around from where he was to see two stowaways about to go at it. Mr. Metal Arm was one of them, and the other was a guy, with, strangely, an anvil on his back. Ouch. Axel hurried over to the scene and pulled out his rocks again. He levitated one up in front of each of the stowaways, except for the other one who was also attempting to break up the scuffle. "Peace," he said. "Dignified men don't fight in public. Settle your disputes in private, where the only people at risk are yourselves." Axel saw that the other person trying to make peace turned to Mr. Metal Arm, so Axel attempted to talk to the other guy. "You there, you look to be a surface dweller. Why would someone like you try to pick a fight with a core dweller like him? We do not want to make enemies here, rather friends. We are about to go into an unknown world. You would do good to make acquaintances, and good ones at that."
 
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