Infiltrate[Open]

[Angra Mainyu]

Lying on his small cot staring at the ceiling, Angra continued to sift through concoctions and contrivances that floated in Angra’s head. He didn’t want to just go gun hoe and formulate a plan against the empress. He wanted to take it step at a time and focus on taking down the empresses associates. People of power that she seeks help from. First Angra figured he hit them in their wallets, try and cause some catastrophes that damaged their finances, perhaps use some psychological coercion to cause bad business decisions. Try to bump them down a notch in the social ladder, but the only question was who. In order to find the right candidate Angra needed to figure out who is close to Camille. Standing from his cot he made his way to a large bag. Pulling out the clothing he had worked for, he made his way to one of the only two doors of this room., preparing himself to do some further research on the tyrannical empress.

Wearing the clothing he had gotten from a store when he arrived at Elysium, Angra set off to the busier side of town. He knew the location of the ‘castle’ that Joscelin resided in but he had no intentions of going there just yet. Angra only wanted to join the rebellion as a last resort, figuring that if neither the state nor the rebellion knew of his identity than that would make him a more intimidating threat in the states mind. Instead he was going to explore the city of Elysium, hoping he could some how gather some information about the empress. Perhaps he would run into someone of the rebellion, surely they knew about the enemy they were fighting against. Or even better, maybe he could find someone of the state that he could pump information out of. Even though he wasn’t accustomed to it he found the way of life for Elysium fascinating. Who would have thought that a way of life could be modeled around something simple as steam. The only downfall he saw in it was the dingy darkness that seemed to loom over certain parts of the city.

After exploring around for a while he found himself not to far from the prince’s domicile. Though he didn’t have too many intentions to actually approach the rebellion, he needed to get acquainted with someone apart of the rebellion. Try and seek friendship with them so he may acquire more information about the enemy. Besides, should a day come that Angra decided he wanted to join the rebellion it probably be helpful to have a friend that had his trust, so that the rest of those apart of the rebellion, epically the prince, could understand that he was trustworthy. Angra waited for a while but beginning to get impatient he was starting to consider approaching the abandoned temple. Maybe he could sneak his way into the temple and snoop around without being seen, figure out some of the rebellions own plans to take down the state. Maybe he could even model his own plans around the prince’s, making it easier for the prince to get what he needs. But than again if someone of the rebellion caught Angra sneaking around he doubted that they was going to be too welcoming to him should he later decide to join the rebellion. Glancing around he walked in a casual gait slowly reaching his deciding motive.

When he thought it was safe he took of in a sprint at the temple, taking in a deep inhale as he did. He hoped that he managed to pick the perfect time to make his move, not wanting anyone to see his entry. But should someone be watching they might be a bit confused by Angra’s path. At the rate and speed he was running, without direction changed soon, he was about to slam right into a wall. Angling his foot against the wall as he ran his feet pushed him up the wall some. Able to plant his right foot in a crack of the ancient temple he pushed hard, propelling himself a short distance up. Able to be just as lucky he did the same with his left foot, finding the a crack to kick off of. Throwing both hands up he grabbed onto a ledge. Lifting with all his might he managed to get himself standing on the small ledge, having to squeeze himself against the side of the temple. Scaling to the right for a moment Angra got himself underneath his next target spot.

Glancing around to try and formulate the best possible way to get that high, seeing how this was a bit higher than the ledge he stood on now. Finding another crack in the temple he managed to lift his foot up to it. Taking in a deep breath he exhausted as much leg power as possible to lift himself off the ledge and towards what looked to be a window of sorts. But as he got his leg fully extended his foot slipped out of the crack. Scrambling for something to grab Angra began to fall towards the ground. As he came down his chin slammed onto the ledge making a popping noise, though thinking quickly Angra grabbed onto the ledge with his right hand, his arm too making a popping noise that cause Angra to start to groan in pain. But remembering that silence was the key, Angra bit into his jacket to muffle his cries of pain. Perhaps it would have just been easier to approach the rebellion, though being as difficult and stubborn as Angra was, he had to do this the hard way. Knowing that at any moment someone could pass by and notice him he looked up with a fiery determination, examining every detail of the things above him. Now he wasn’t even trying to reach a certain point, he just wanted to get out of sight. Using both hands he brought himself back onto the ledge quickly.

Turning so that his back was now facing the wall he began to remove his tie, pain stricken on his face every time he moved his right arm. Pulling out a small vile of something he began to get his tie wet with it. Tying the tie around his left wrist he looked up towards the window. Lifting his right foot to the same crack once more he took no time to prepare himself. Using all his strength to lift himself again he leaped a very small bit at the window, just barely managing to get his fingertips to grip. Lifting himself up to the window he rolled into it and quickly got to his feet, looking around for any form of life. Seeing that he had gotten lucky he leaned against a wall with heavy breathing. Looking to his right arm he grunted in pain, trying to keep all noise to a minimum. Grabbing onto his right elbow tightly he pushed up hard, another popping noise heard in his right shoulder. Having his arm back in place he quickly darted to the door of the room he was in, listening closely for any sign of movement outside. “Okay, gather Intel on the empress, get out.,” Angra silently reminded himself.

[Joscelin]

[Figured since I know most of the temple that I'd reply. This will be a fun thread. -Grins- ]

Cheer seemed to have become somewhat of a rare commodity over the years. Truth be told, Joscelin didn't blame such a thing. He knew why. It was hard to keep amusement about oneself with the Empress' taxes becoming so overwhelming over Dysprosium's populace. Oh, and the fact that she had begun to apprehend young men for the mines; quickly divvying out punishment. So, not only was cheer a rare commodity - with mothers missing their young boys and lovers longing for their partners - but the Rebel forces were now drawing out thin for their manpower.

It made things difficult for not only him but the planned course of action overall. Part of the reason he couldn't perform most of the duties was the fact of lacking manpower. Oh, sure, Madox and her troupe were well enough. They were willing and able to infiltrate banquets and fêtés without a moment's notice and had been the sole provider upon a number of dates - of both arrivals and departures - for supply wagons; except the same problem as always.

Lacking manpower.

He was partly sure that the Empress knew what she was doing. She was not only gaining more resources with each passing day but then there was the fact that she was also hampering Joscelin and his forces. He needed to have a more universal command over the nation; he needed his fingers in more than one pot and within the back pockets of each man willing and able to assist. He needed someone who could do things no other could. It was this that led Joscelin to being utterly frustrated.

"BUGGER!" Joscelin pushes the bundles of parchment off of his desk with a huff of irritation; no one would be able to hear him down below the main hall whilst others milled above their heads. His hands lift to rub at his face for the moment as he leans over the desk whilst pressing his freehand upon the wooden surface; the grain feels tight against his calloused fingertips.

"What's wrong?" It's Marcus who had been standing off to the side nearest the hearth that was now warming the entirety of the room. It's here - the temple's storeroom - that had been dubbed Joscelin's headquarters whilst the rest of the temple - minus Joscelin's spacious bedroom upon the highest landing [oh, and those of Joscelin's highest ranks such as Madox] - had been given over to the tending of Dysprosium's populace with an open place for prayer, resting and thensome; the main hall's full of sound bouncing all around with milling folks, but down here? Quiet but for the rush of fire eating fuel alive; wood. It's then that Joscelin's blue eyes flit over to Marcus as he steps around his desk to saunter throughout the makeshift headquarters.

It's stuffed leather holders full of documents and blueprints - not only upon technological advancements but of building layouts. It was here that Joscelin kept his tabs upon the State's council and Empress Camille herself alongside her entourage: Harlow, Bex and a handful of other women. Joscelin may be running thin on manpower but he still managed to keep eyes on these people as much as possible without drawing attention, and Madox made things easier with being able to get so close and mark down notes about their transactions with their respective factors.

"It's hard to make a movement, Marcus, when the Empress makes a stoppage everywhere you turn," he states firmly before scowling and giving a quick shake of his head. "And here I am having to depend on others to do my footwork because our Good God knows that I'll be lynched the moment I step out of Dysprosium," he says next with a faint scowl.

Joscelin wasn't one who was upset easily, nor set off his feet. So, even Marcus - for all his size - looked vastly displeased with the way Joscelin was acting. Especially when considering Marcus didn't show his emotions often unless utterly angry and raging like some bull.

"Perhaps we can have Madox do some footwork," Marcus says and purses his mouth briefly while fingering at his beard with one hand and lifting the other to peel off his fisherman's cap. "Or no, she's too busy. It's not like we can be open about recruiting either," Marcus says simply.

Marcus was right. Joscelin had said somewhat similar once at one point. It's not like they could put out a flier asking for people's cooperation; the rebellion was a whispered movement by the lowerclass. Some people of high status didn't even believe such a thing and simply a threat and naught else. So, invitations were truly only by word of mouth only.

"Do me a favor and get me in contact with some footmen, or women, who'd be willing to leave Elysium for a few months and do some field work, Marcus. We'll need some people who are willing to work out on the open road to disrupt some of these supply wagons. We're missing out on far too much," Joscelin states; one strike out of seven upon supply trains didn't do well at all for Joscelin.

"I can do that," Marcus states and then takes a deep breath before lumbering awkwardly out of his seat. "I'll get you somewhat to eat first though; oh, and to drink," he states before sauntering toward the only door leading within that storeroom and soon enough out; ultimately leaving Joscelin to his own devices.

Let it be known that although the old temple may seem unguarded that was not the case at all. It was constantly under survellance of others working the corners outside of the temple and then there were wandering men sifting through the halls; the men who worked closely with Joscelin did work for the rebellion, and down below - past the main hall - the halls were guarded with men armed to the teeth with their knives and pistols; wandering to and fro and looking a tad bit irritated with standing all day as Marcus saunters past; that beast of a man.

He's six-foot-seven and nigh two-hundred-and-ninety-pounds. He's thick all over and nearly bursting at the seams of his vest; fingertips plucking sub-consciously at the buttons of such as he mounts the landing of the main hall and surveys the milling crowd within; men shouldering sacks of grain to lug to the kitchens and the makeshift store room upon this landing. It would be all any man would truly be able to hear from this floor or higher; the busy sound of people talking and moving beyond the sound of muffled footsteps there would also be the footfalls of those on patrol and wandering the halls; some even being servants simply changing the sheets within each bedroom. The truth was, was that although this wasn't a castle within the traditional sense, the Prince's "castle" truly did show off as a place of commerce and the center of any semblance of movement. It truly was more than obvious that Joscelin had been prepared for most of anything with the constant watch and even making things more than difficult with having his headquarters down below with only one way to reach. It was smart, truly.

It would be quite the feat for anyone to reach.

[Angra Mainyu]

The silent intruder kept a keen ear, trying to sift through all the different sounds that were around him. Though he was almost positive that he had heard sounds from various levels, he knew were the majority of the people in this temple were, giving the sheer volume of the combined chatter. Angra knew this wouldn't be an easy task to find out where the leader of the Rebellion kept his files on his enemies. Hell, because of the size of this place he was sure it was going to be quite the difficult task. Grinning some he backed away from the door, looking to the clothing that he wore. Though he actually started to get comfortable in this style of clothing, he needed to not have so many loose ends. Removing his black jacket he laid it neatly on the floor, proceeding to remove his vest next.

Suddenly Angra narrowed his eyes behind him, the sounds of approaching footsteps alerting him. Darting his eyes around the room he moved beside the door with a silent gait, watching as the door opened and a woman step in, carrying sheets and pillow cases. Walking forward with a quirked eye brow she looked down at the jacket that was on the floor. Jumping on the opportunity he silently pushed the door closed, making the softest click. Whether she heard the door shut or not, Angra was already advancing her from behind. Reaching one hand forward to grasp her skinny wrists in his hand, he held his left wrist hard against the womans face, still having the wet tie there. For a moment she struggled, low mumbles emitting, far to low for anyone to hear. Eyes beginning to drift she started to gasp in air, inhaling fumes from the liquid that he placed on the tie. Soon, as if her eyelids were to heavy to hold, her eyes unwillingly slid shut as she fell unconscious.

Angra now stood in only his sleeveless black vest and his black pants; his shoes, jacket, undershirt all being wrapped in a tight ball and stuffed between the mattresses, the servant woman still lying unconscious on the bed. Not wishing to delay any longer, Angra opened the door just a bit, peeking down the hallway off to the right of the door. Seeing that it was all clear he slipped out the door and looked to the left, gently shutting the door when he was out of the room. Seeing someone on patrol walking down the hallway, facing the opposite direction, Angra began to creep backwards. Turning away he dashed down the hall and turned a corner, just barely enough time as the guard began to turn.

"Hey! Wh-"

When Angra had turned the corner he was just inches from running into another guard. Out of reflex, he jabbed his right hand forward, poking his index and middle finger hard into the mans adams apple, cutting his sentence short. Cursing to himself from the unwanted attention he took a tight hold of the mans left wrist with his right hand, yanking the soldier towards him hard as he lifted his knee into the mans gut, knocking the wind back into him. While the man was buckled over Angra's knee he brought the point of his elbow down on the back of the mans head, ensuring that it was just hard enough to render him unconscious. Catching him so he didn't make a loud thud Angra began to drag him towards a room, that is until he heard the guard he saw earlier shouting towards him. Dropping the guard Angra started to back away, eying the man very closely. The guard pulled his pistol out and set his aim on Angra, shouting louder now.

"Don't move! Stay right there!!"

Angra actually had a confused look on his face as the man held the gun towards him, not entirely sure what the objects purpose was. You see, being that he spent his entire life in a village mostly secluded from technological advances, he had no idea what a firearm was or what it was capable of. Seeing the the intruder had no intention with complying with his demands the guard shot a warning shot at Angra, the bullet scaving Angra's arm. With wide eyes Angra took hold of his bicep as blood slowly started to trickle, looking to the weapon with a new caution. He had no idea what it was but he was fairly certain that he didn't need to be hit by whatever it was that came from the weapon. Turning away from the guard, Angra took off full speed down the hallway, his speed something not easy to contend with giving his training. Hearing another loud boom from behind him he watched the bullet scar a wall a few feet ahead of him. Looking back Angra spoke in a disappointed tone, more so disappointed in himself. "Well, looks like a stealth entrance is out of the question." Looking forward again his eyes widened to see three other guards rushing right at him, confident enough in their numbers to leave the firearms on their sides. Once they were close enough one of the guards attempted to tackle him down from the front, actually jumping through the air towards his midsection. Lifting his left leg of the ground he span on his heel, moving out of the way of the tackle. And just as fluently as he dodged the attack, he delivered his own, bringing his left leg in the air to come down on the guards back. Knowing that a guard was approaching him from behind Angra leaned back so far that he mine as well have been lying on his back. Reachingf both arms above his head he grasped the mans ankles, making him trip forward and fall on his face. Taking both hands on one ankle he twisted hard until he heard a crack, the guard releasing a yelp of pain.

Trained to pay attention to every possible sign, he could tell that more guards of this floor were coming, the vibrations of their stomping telling him this. Suddenly becoming aware that he still had a guard near him he looked up to see the mans foot coming down at him. Rolling off to the side Angra scrambled to his feet and took off down the hall. Coming up to a flight of stairs Angra saw a few guards advancing up them, preparing to draw their fire arms. Without a moments pause, Angra threw himself threw the air, throwing himself into the few guards, sending them and himself tumbling down the steps. Once slamming on the landing Angra got to his feet and began to run again, groaning slightly at the small wound on his arm that was getting bigger from the strain on it. The many voices and sounds that he heard earlier were now getting louder as he ran down the hallway, not entirely sure if it was exactly a good thing he was getting closer to it. Stepping through a decent sized threshold he looked to see all the refugees that took their home in this place, all tending to their own business.

"Well, at least I can be sure they won't use the strange weapons around here, to dangerous with the amount of people."

These words were spoke only loud enough for himself to hear, keeping his wound in his tight grasp as he casually walked around the crowd, having no intentions of putting himself in the middle of it. Glancing towards were he entered the room he saw a small group of guards scanning the crowd, trying to seek out their intruder, not sure if they would inform the crowd or just keep it silent so as to not cause any form of panic. Finding the nearest door, he went inside of it hoping the guards wouldn't find there way to him, at least not until he got what he was looking for. Descending into what he assumed to be the bottom level of this complex, he lowered both arms down to his sides, caution in every step he took.

[Joscelin]

'Twas a muffled cacophony over the din within the temple's hall proper; a soft tha-rump of peppering shots that accentuate the rapid fall of hands upon tight-skinned drums. Thick gloved hands smooth down the neck cellos; nigh muffling the strings and bringing about a rumbling roar with the motion. It was a troupe having set up within one corner of the temple to unleash their fiddling and upbeat tempo to the crowd. Yet, all the while something else happened within the temple.

They were all unknowing by the time an intruder had begun to cut their swath through the thicket. Guardsmen were bowling down the steps to survey the crowd from either end but little to nothing else was found. Where had he gone off to? Who was he? They didn't know! Yet, they had to protect Joscelin. They had to ensure their leader was well and alive. This person must not have been an Elysium guard though; no one was quite that nimble nor daring to enter the lion's den.

Down below was quieter though albeit the hall was flanked with storerooms; there was but only a scuffle here or there and at the end two wide doors that were meant for carts to be brought through. There were men here too. Some pacing down the wide corridor or others dicing within one room or the other. There were some reading and others catching their rest then others with small children upon their knees with tin spoons brimming with broth. There were women too; old and young. They were there playing the calm and collected teacher; this floor full of a myriad of folks. It was truly surprising any man who held such weight with the Rebellion would keep these people so close to that of his happenings.

Mayhap that's why he had never truly been caught for his dealings? Looking like some lad of the norm within his room full of leather-tubes holding maps, parchments and agreements. He's but a carpenter - an artist that dug out creations from raw wood; with his floors littered with shavings.

It's there where Joscelin hunches across a table within his den...

...and it's within this hall that one would have to move lest they find themselves bowled over by none other than a scowling Marcus; the man as thick as a tree all around with his hand clenched tight about his cap and thought clear upon his face. Already a warning was spreading throughout those within the temple proper and mayhap soon the reason would be found.

Or maybe the other would be quick enough to evade capture yet.

All the while - above them - the guardsmen of the temple comb through the crowd; pulling down hoods and overturning casks and tables. They push toward rooms and alcoves without luck and slowly did the places narrow down toward none other than one untouched entryway; the way to Joscelin. Fear strikes within the guards and clenches them by the heart. Quick! They must check upon their leader.

[Angra Mainyu]

Stopping at the bottom he took a quick glance, seeing that this place was guarded as well. Breathing for a moment he looked towards the door, not sure honestly what he was to do from here. If he went out that door he would have to deal with the guards after him, his only option to try and escape. Or he could continue through the hallway of storerooms, possibly find what he is looking for. But than he has to deal with these guards and eventually the guards up stairs. He knew he was capable of a lot of things but he couldn't see himself walking out of this place in one piece. Breathing gently he looked away from the door and decided to proceed forward, having come too far to just leave empty handed. Maybe he could go about it a different way, yet still be aggressive with his demands. Taking another few deeps breaths he turned the corner and began to walk through the hall,using nonchalance with his demeanor as if he belonged down here. Glancing into storerooms to see supplies and elderly families Angra ran a hand through his black hair, it being a bit moist around the hairline from him sweating. Knowing his luck couldn't last he saw a guard advancing him from the front, holding a hand up too him to signal Angra to stop. “Who are you? Why are you down here, I don't remember seeing you down here before,” he questioned with a quirked brow, a few other guards standing up but remaining where they were, getting ready in case they had to remove this person. Angra peered past the guards shoulder to see a rather immense man standing in front of a capacious storeroom, looking to be filled with files and articles. Judging from the strength in the mans eyes he could easily see he'd be an harder opponent to take down than the rest of the guards. Bringing his attention back to the guard in his path, he pondered for a silent moment, before speaking in a confident tone.

“I'm here to see your leader, we share similar interests. He has things that I need to copy, information that will be useful to my own cause, which is not far from the cause that you fight for.” The man in front of Angra stared at him, unsure how to proceed. As he was about to speak Angra cut him off, speaking with a more serious and stern tone. “I won't leave without this information. Even if force is necessary to obtaining it. I never intended to get in any confrontations while here but the earlier ones were unavoidable.”

“Wait, won't earlier confrontations?” the guard questioned, lifting his hand to place it on Angra's shoulder so he could push him back away from where Joscelin was but before he could place his hand there he got a very sharp look from Angra that stopped his hand where it was.

“Don't. Touch. Me. You have but two options, you go tell you master that someone is here to see him and that they won't be leaving until they do, or you move aside and I will announce myself to him. Any other option will lead to unpleasant consequences. What's it going to be?” The guard stared at Angra a bit offended now, still having his hand frozen where it was. Now lifting both arms he placed his hands on Angra's chest and started to push back on him to try and get him to the door to the main hall.

“Alright buddy, it's time for you,” Before he could finish his sentence or even managed to get Angra that far the intruder reacted to being pushed back. With little effort every muscle in Angra's body tensed much like before, veins showing all over his arms, chest, neck, even one popping out on the left side of his forehead. Balling his fist tightly he swung the back of his fist into the mans face, letting out a yell as he did, actually putting enough force to push the man back an inch or so landing on his ass, holding his face. Shuffling his feet a bit he assumed an offensive stance, his body still tensed all over, speaking through gritted teeth.

“I said I am going no where until I obtain the information I need. I do not wish to fight here, I would hate to disrespect the elders or children here, but I will do what is necessary. Now one last chance, take me to your leader before I take myself through you all to get to him.” Two guards came to the man on the ground, helping him to his feet, trying to stop his bleeding noes. Most of the guards turned to look at Marcus, looking for an answer as too what they should do.

[Joscelin]

Marcus didn't like knowing that someone had infiltrated the temple proper with such ease. If the man had truly similar interests as Joscelin and rebellion did then he would have simply waltzed on through and questioned the guards and naught else. Now, as Marcus' mouth falls open to speak, he watches as the stranger knocks one of his comrades right onto his ass. Marcus' first action would have been to bowl the man right over; his size and brute strength could be easily used to overwhelm anyone. Then again the other didn't wished to be touched and no one had waited to give him an answer, nor did they wait for Marcus to speak. He was laughing.

Laughing!

"This man has a Bull's balls!" Marcus states with a broad grin.

Then that amusement was gone as his large paws lift to press together tightly.

"It's unfortunate that I now have to break them," Marcus states with a grunt before stepping forth and then things changed. There was silence and Marcus' sudden and lumbering advance was halted by the press of one hand on his shoulder and a smaller man slipping around him to peer onto the mess within the hall. He didn't look disturbed, nor did he looked pleased. He seems nigh nonchalant about the entirety of the moment as his eyes flit over to the stranger.

"A foreigner," Joscelin utters with mild surprise at the sight of such.

"Now, I've heard the commotion out here. It's not hard to hear such with you all being so loud. This man wished to see me, no?" Joscelin questions and Marcus scowls. "Yes, sirruh," Marcus states before looking away. Joscelin looks back to the stranger then.

"By all rights I can have you strung up for the charge of coming to a place and disturbing the peace. This is a sanctuary and not a place where I will condone violence from you or my men," Joscelin utters firmly before lifting a hand to the other. "If you wish to speak then you will speak to me as a man."

There's a pause before Joscelin looks up at Marcus for the moment.

"Go upstairs and assess the damage done. I assume there were more harmed within this than we see now," Joscelin says before looking back to the stranger once more. "Am I assume that's right?" He questions with a perked brow. All the while Joscelin's mind worked.

He could use someone like him for his latest plans.

"Come, let's talk," he tells the other before giving his back and stepping back within that spacious storeroom. The other guards looked on quietly with open mouths and mild disappointment within their eyes. There was little that could be said or do though when Joscelin spoke finally upon such things. So, each guard stepped aside to give the other man room to waltz through and although they may have stepped down Marcus didn't wipe the scowl off of his face. "I'll be watching you," he states firmly.

Joscelin though was a different story. He seemed unafraid about the entirety of the situation and even went as far to speak and expect the other to be on his heels already and listening.

"I assume you've been within the city for some time considering you clothing. You also seem to be versed well within the common tongue," Joscelin begins. "You also know your way through Dysprosium, and you know that our happenings are beginning here. So, you are not dimwitted," he adds as he rounds the desk. All the while the hall outside was filled with eyes from elderly women and men, and even children and other guardsmen staring; the doors never having been closed. It's then Joscelin turns back to him and eyes the man quietly.

"Tell me your name. Then tell me why you've come here. Who has wronged you?"

[Angra Mainyu]

Still very offensive, every single part of his body was rigid and his expression wiped of any emotion other than determination. Watching the larger man start to laugh his eyes glanced at the guards in the room before resting on the man with the broad grin, the only other man in the room close to his own stature. When the man brought his hands together and was about to start advancing Angra bounced on his feet, growling a little bit with his built up tension, red flaring in his face as he tensed his body further. Than he felt the sudden calm of the inhabitants of the room, watching the small man step around the larger one. Though the guards and this large grizzly of a man had calmed Angra wasn't too quick to let his body relax. So this was the brains behind the rebellion, this was the man who was so feverishly trying to get the wheels into motion. This was the man known as Joscelin. As he started to speak Angra straightened his posture, letting out a deep exhale to relax himself; though their was still a sign of tension left in him. Only to be expected since he has been running from guards most of his time in this place. It was easy to tell that Joscelin had a very calm demeanor and had a way of placing this calm into others. When the man spoke directly to him he narrowed his eyes on the male, listening to the words that flowed so easily out of his mouth. Though Angra had a thing or two to tell Joscelin he decided against it, wanting to treat this situation with a certain delicacy now that he was so close to obtaining the information that he desired. When Joscelin paused Angra decided to let his form completely relax, his face smoothing into a very difficult face to read. Reaching into the inside pocket of his vest he pulled out a large cloth, tying it around the wound on his arm as the Prince of Dysprosium addressed the large behemoth. When he was question about other injured guards Angra was in the middle of tightening the cloth, nodding his head and speaking in a innocently playful manor.

“Maybe a few.” Once he got the cloth tightly fastened onto his wound, unable to do anything about the blood that was getting dry on his arm. Walking forward with a calm gait he eyed Marcus when he got his threat, his composure completely unaffected by what he said. Pausing next to the behemoth, looking to him with the same difficult to read expression; probably the only one far and wide that the man didn't have to look down on when face to face. “I assured not to harm none of your men to badly. The worst is probably fractured bones. Their might be a few who believe they have bones broken but I merely popped them severely out of place. If you cannot tend to these men adequately yourself, bring them to me and I'll fix them right up.”

Not pausing afterwards to hear anything he had to say Angra continued forward, entering the room just as Joscelin started to speak. Angra stood in front of the mans desk, his arms placed comfortably behind his back as he listened to the mans collective assumptions of Angra. Once Joscelin finished speaking Angra peered behind himself, looking to all the spectators that they had. Turning to look at Joscelin he assumed seeing how they were all so close to the base of operations they could be trusted. Taking a second longer to mull over his words carefully he locked his own eyes on Joscelin's hues, matching the mans calm nonchalance. “My name is Angra Mainyu. Whether you meant why I have come to this place in particular or the city of Elysium, I will do my best to clarify both without revealing information I feel is valuable to myself. I come from a far away place of peace and prosperity. Everyone knows everyone else, no one person goes hungry for everyone works towards the greater good of others. My land has no technological advancements at all, in fact they are forbidden. You build your own house, you are assigned a job by our Master, and your happy. Or at least, most are happy with such a peaceful... uneventful life.” Angra paused for a slight moment, remembering the bland life that he lived. After letting his gaze trail for a moment he focused on Joscelin again, lowering his arms from his back to his side.

“I left my home in search of something more, my home life not giving me than satisfaction in life that I desire. After traveling I stumbled upon this city. Exactly why I choose to stay in this city is my own business. Now, after that most likely unnecessary story, onto more current matters. I am here to get information that I know you have. As you probably heard earlier, I have the same interests you do. The reason why I didn't merely come to you in person is that my earlier motives was too stay hidden. Now this may seem a bit confusing seeing how we have the same interests. Well.. An enemy allied by your enemy is able to be comprehended, but an enemy unknown by all is unpredictable.” Angra grinned a bit, disappointed that this plan was somewhat foiled. Getting more relaxed by the minute, he started to speak in a more friendly manor, his eyes still locked with Joscelin's. “I wish to gain information about the beloved Empress and any files you have on those close to her and her Estate. I am willing to give something in return to acquire this information though I tell you now I have no materialistic items to give. And before you speak, I ask kindly as I can, please don't ask why I have intension's to bring the Empress to the dirt.” This last request was spoken with a deep emotion, only problem was that Angra still held that wall in his face, making his emotions difficult to decipher.