Roulette: Castor and Gair tussle with wildlife!

Castor ArendtMateus makes a show of finalizing his self-examination - righting the harness that holds his pistols to his chest, fixing his sword in its scabbard. No one could mistake this dress for a man intending a mere pleasant walk in the Sea of Clouds - if such a thing exists. He looks up from his work to see that Gair's already arrived. "Mister Brandt," he calls, jogging over at a brisk pace. "Keen, are we?"

Gair Brandt appears to be finising securing what's left of rather plated and bladed barding onto a large black chocobo. From a rucksack he plucks out some sort of short-stocked scattergun and shoves it into a saddle sheath for ease of access. "Fate's a funny thing, ain't it, Castor?" He claps his bird's wing and turns to face him fully. "Not a week hence and here we are."

Castor ArendtMateus chuffs and rolls his eyes at that comment. "I imagine it's not fate, and more so your self-described job search - but I was interested to see your name on the duty roster, all the same." He steps closer, examining Gair's bird with the attention of an enthusiast. "Oh, he's a lovely thing, isn't he? Quite grave looking." He turns as if on cue and whistles against his fingers, summoning a slightly scruffy-looking draft chocobo from nearby. "Chestnut," Castor introduces.

Gair Brandt bares a toothy grin Castor's way. "Aye, the pay may be...entirely nonexistent. Curiosity, among other things drew me in like a moth." He eyes the yellow draft chocobo, his voice going a slight tone higher as if he were talking to a puppy. "Chestnut, well ain't you just a pretty bird?" Back to Castor, he explains with a clap of Gust's wing. "Don't let Gust fool you, he's a big doof."

Castor ArendtMateus: "And Chestnut is the haughtiest creature this side of Abalathia's Spine." He palms the side of the horsebird's head affectionately, while Chestnut himself preens, clearly pleased for the praise. "But we're not here to discuss horsebirdflesh, are we? We're here to see to that curiosity of yours. Come on - I don't expect we'll sight much today, but duty calls all the same." He swings up into Chestnut's saddle, drawing an irate kweh from the chocobo but no more complaint.

Gair Brandt | Gust scuffs his talons into the dirt and tilts to the side only slightly as Gair's boot lands in his stirrups and he settles down into the saddle. "Aye, gotta keep an eye for those white jacketed fucks just in case. As much as I love talkin birds..." A gauntleted hand slips onto Gust's head to give him one more scritch ere he takes the reigns to guide him pointing out of the camp. "Guess I'll take point, plated steel 'an all."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Lead the way," Castor urges, resting easy in the saddle.

Gair Brandt: "Let's mosey, then," Gair prods Gust with his heels.

Gair Brandt: "Hell, the view is...well, ain't gonna get used to it any time soon."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Bloody malms of open space - wish it made me feel any safer," he muses.

Gair Brandt: "Makes me wish for some rollin' sand again," Gair says as the ride continues.

(Gair Brandt) *Prays for a land path up to the water*

Gair Brandt: "Mmh, farthest I been so far," Gair admits as they close on to the waters. "Least it ain't a salt flat, we'd want for water."

Castor ArendtMateus gives a hoarse chuckle and stands a bit in hi s saddle as they ride, jockeying for good position behind Brandt and Gust. Chestnut seems to fair well in the high altitude, lowland bird that he is. "Fine air up here, at least. And the water is clean like nothing you've seen. Straight from the clouds, I suppose."

Gair Brandt stares up at the clouds in disbelief, as if it was something he hadn't considered until now. "Huh...s'pose you're right, cleaner than Fesca's Wash, or what folk get in the Brume below." As they step up to the edge of the water, Gust cranes his head down for a drink.

Castor ArendtMateus: "I went here... 'scouting,' with a few of the others. More like a nature walk, to be honest. Be good to establish some proper surveys." Castor urges Chestnut similarly forwards to rest a bit, keeping a weather eye on the horizon - or what passes for it, given the lack of land up here.

Castor ArendtMateus: "There's flowers here that'll cling to your arm if you stick it in between the blossoms." He indicates one of the yalms-tall bloom stocks in the distance. "So, er - don't do that."

Gair Brandt: "Livin' water and sky snakes far as the eye can see..." Gair trails off and shakes his head, he might as well be in a different realm. Plodding through the water, he eyes the flowers as they pass by. "Wouldn't wanna lose an arm takin' a souvenir home, then." His chest rumbles in a laugh at the idea.

Castor ArendtMateus hums thoughtfully as grey sets in, his eyes lingering on Gair a moment before they turn out to take stock of the broad pool ahead. "Strange place," Castor echoes. "Hard to know what to watch for." Even so, his eyes rake the sky, as though expecting a pirate ship to hover into view at any moment.

Gair Brandt | Concerningly, a number of winged beasts have taken to the watering hole. Gair's attention was torn from the skies as a large shadow plods right into the water, some fifty fulms ahead: a crested Anzu. One, two, three land and begin to land. Themselves looking spooked, agitated by a rather large griffin that circles them overhead.

Gair Brandt: "Azeyma, this is lookin' to be some nature walk."

Castor ArendtMateus mouth gapes open in poorly disguised awe at the sight of one, two, three, four predatory giant birds and bird-adjacent creatures deciding to make this watering hole the sight of their drama. He worries at his lip and instructs Chestnut to bow so that he can dismount smoothly. "Four of them. Gar." He peers up at Gar. "We'll have to drive them off - that griffin particularly."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Can't have a maneater too confident around the camp."

Gair Brandt: "Not to mention were on some tasty lookin' birds ourselves," Gair clicks at Gust and whistles to him, the order causing the bird to bristle and scratch the ground with his talons: he's tense and ready now. He checks his scattergun and looks sidelong at Castor and asks, "Loud noises, or do we just hit 'em hard?"

Gair Brandt | In anticipation, Gair plucks his helmet up from his saddlebags and slaps it on his head.

Castor ArendtMateus nods ruefully at Gair at his mention of the walking meals they had been riding. He reaches into one of the pouches at his hip and withdraws a crude metal canister, which he shakes meaningfully. "Loud noises are my specialty. Problem is making them count. I doubt the big fellow will be going anywhere if he doesn't feel a little bit of btie along with the bark."

Gair Brandt nods toward Castor and plucks out his scattergun from the saddle, cycling a round into the chamber with the lever with a satisfying *click CLACK*. "Looks like our trio wont be much'ta spook off, by your throw I'll charge, eh?!" The anticipation is palpable, this man is quite eager for some action! Dumbass he is.

Gair Brandt | The Anzu flutter and bump into one another as the griffin circles closer and closer on it's impressive wingspan, casting an oppressive shadow with each pass.

Castor ArendtMateus forgets his hesitance to stare u pat Gair with an arch eyebrow for a moment - which quickly settles as commensurate glee. Nothing like being actually /asked/ to throw a homemade explosive. Castor tilts back like a hunter with his javelin or an athlete with a discus, before pitching the canister high and far towards the flock of anzu. Quick as you please, one of his pistols flies free from his holster and he plants a round in the canister midflight. A nova of burning ceruleum blue erupts, -
Castor ArendtMateus: accompanied by a thunderclap that sends at least the smaller birds around the area careening off.

Gair Brandt | Gair bucks off at the very moment Castor throws the cannister, not keen to follow it, but rather circle to the side and take the flank. "YIP YIP, HYAH! MOVE!" He yells out as the burning ceruleum explosion fills the air, a brilliant blue hue flashing across the surface of the water. Any small birds immediately flying for their lives from every surrounding tree in a cloud of feathers. The Anzu in particular, blue fire licking at their feathers, one send skidding across the water in raw>
Gair Brandt: animalistic confusion as it struggles away with it's two flockmates. With the mounted man following up the shock and awe confusion, his scattergun barks thrice, volleys of shot trained for the Griffin who remains undeterred.

Castor ArendtMateus lets out a triumphant laugh as his shot connects and the smaller of the apex pedators in attendance scatter to the winds. The great beast that had been makign strafes above, however, is another matter. The explosion certainly catches its attention - it beats its wings to fall back from its flight pattern, letting out a caw that is more accurately described as an ear-splitting roar. A creature like this does not do well with its territory challeneged, and it lands in a fearsome show -
Castor ArendtMateus: of beating wings and raking claws before Gair - a threat display, though not far from an earnest attempt to maul him to pieces. Three scattergun shots belch lead at the griffin, and to the credit of the weapon's engineering it does rear once more - but it seems angry, rather than hurt. Castor reaches for a rifle from Chestnut's saddlebags, but the rest for the moment is left to Gair.

Gair Brandt was better prepared for the raking talons than he was the buffet of wind, having since abandoned his scattergun in the water in lieu for his greatsword. Just in time to be blown a few fulms out of the saddle with a large splash, having the clarity to bark an order to his bird. "FLY, GUST!" The chocobo immediately beating feet the way they came to disengage from the melee.>
Gair Brandt | The griffin's attentions follow that armor plated morsel, poised to make chase. Right up until Gair rises to his feet, a flash of jagged red aether in his hand that he sends tumbling end-over-end. Only ripping a glancing blow into the beast's wing to get it's attention. "Over here, fucker!"
Gair Brandt | The Griffin caws again, ire drawn to Gair now, it's really pissed to be denied a meal TWICE.

Castor ArendtMateus mutters a nonsenical string of curses under his breath as he watches Gair dismount forcibly and draws his rifle from Chestnut's saddle. Even the highest calibre Castor owns won't put a dent in that thing, not without a superlatively lucky shot. He fishes into his belt pouch again for his second, and final canister, calling, "Gair! Clear!" before tossing the thing as best as he can manage towards the bird's right, opposite his companion. The griffin seems emboldened, certainly, -
Castor ArendtMateus: by Gair's dismount - a man on foot is much less impressive than a man on a chocobo. Castor takes in a breath and finds his mark on the canister glinting just beneath the water's surface before he lets off his second shot, triggering a spray of boiling water as precursor to a blast of concussive force - hopefully enough to stagger the creature and give Gair an opening.

Gair Brandt | Furious and ready to try and make a snack out of the highlander yelling at him, the Griffin kicks up an impressive amount of water and stone on his charge for Gair who shields himself behind his considerable pauldrom for what is to come. The griffin letting out a pained shriek as the concussion hits first, then a boiling mist joins the fray to send the mythical beast thrashing wildly, a whirlwind of talon and beak amid a mist of boiling water. The armored man steels himself and instead>
Gair Brandt | Makes his counter charge into the mist, waving that considerable blade in wide arcs on his way into the eye of that storm. Catching the end of a talon and sheering it clean off, a pair of wounds scored by our duo of humanoids. It bleeds freely from the missing chunk of it's foot as it struggles to find a place to direct it's ire. Another horrible roar filling the air, this poor beast.
Gair Brandt: "The heart, the head!" Gair yells out, "While it can't see!"

Castor ArendtMateus decides that this moment is the best to set down his rifle and, while the beast is still unbalanced, to follow up on Gair's order - charging forward in a display of bravado, loosing one pistol from its holster after another as he goes until he has spent five hand-cannon rounds in the beast's wings, in the dense muscle of its chest, and one well-placed shot sheering along where its beak connects to its skull to a great gout of blood. The griffin shrieks in pain and rears again, but this -
Castor ArendtMateus: time lifts itself away on clumsy, injured wings. Riddled with shot as it is, it may live or not - but the message has been sent that it is no longer welcome to prey at this particular watering hole, not patrolled as it is by such heavily armed expeditioners. The griffin disappears, still shrieking, beyond the edge of a far island - and then all is quiet, save for a few nervous wing beats that signal the return of some smaller finches to the pool. Castor huffs and looks over at Gair.
Castor ArendtMateus: "You alright?"

Gair Brandt does his part shoving the griffon off with a lash of his greatsword, tracing wide silvery arcs to earn more blood from it's flank before Castor's explosive bravado ultimately drives it to fly away on injured wings. He comes to a fuller stand now, a broad grin on his features in spite of having dove into a scalding mist and being knocked around. "Damn, he got away!" He laments loudly and swivels back to look at Castor to take stock. "Just bruised, you?"

Castor ArendtMateus clears his throat and stows his pistols back where they came from, cracking his neck to either side. "Note a scratch," he notes with a smile. "Thanks for taking the heat. Not bad at all, mister Brandt."

Gair Brandt sheathes his greatsword with a flourish, steel rasping on wood and leather. "Plate steel, that's what I'm here for." He thumps a gauntleted fist over his heart. "Ya brought the fire, though. Damn good show, that."

Castor ArendtMateus gives an unabashedly wolfish grin to that and dusts his aethersand-smudged fingertips on his trousers absentmindedly. "I expect that that's all the excitement we'll have today, unfortunately - at the very least, I don't want to meet what heard all of that racket and stuck around without fresh munitions. Come on - I can take care of filling out the report when we get back."

Gair Brandt steps over to the pond to pluck up his waterlogged scattergun and hold it over his shoulder. "I'll have'ta peek over your shoulder'ta see how we cross the T's around here, I imagine I'll be doin' my share ere long..." He trails off and moves in step with Castor, in very high spirits now. "We *gotta* do this again sometime."