A woman walked in. "So the frail human finally wakes up. I'm also going to guess you agreed to join us; I'm basing this off the fact that Jack is suddenly in a good mood." Her hands were covered in grease.
"So how long have you stood by that door listening in?" She would be beautiful if she didn't have those nasty wings.
"You think yourself superior to those of us who used blood, don't you? It's written across your entire face." Her hand rested on a sleek metal object on her hip—not a sword. What could it be?
"Not quite; I've just never been around any of you things. If you couldn't tell, I'm a city boy, I think y'all call us. And to me, it's clear that you're trying to get me to do something rash out of anger; that's why you rest your hand on your sinew. I'm guessing it's at least one."
"For a city boy, you sure know a bit about the grounds' culture." She shifted her weight to her right.
"Well, my father didn't like the city very much. Why do you think I'm pure unlike you?" I rested my elbows on my knees.
"Well, I'll be leaving now since Jack will be back soon. Nice to meet you, Victor."
The door squeaked as she closed it. Not even two minutes later, Jack came back in.
"Alright, I'm going to help you into the chair, and then you'll go meet the others." He did seem kind of excited.
"Can't wait," I just knew I didn't sound happy about that.
"What's up? Are you shy or something? Trust me, they are all good people—minus Greg. Damn blacksmith makes us bring our own materials and then makes us still pay outrageous prices." He lifted me and set me down in the wheelchair. He lifted me stupidly easy.
"Well, are you ready? Stupid question; we are going to meet everyone right now." He had a massive grin on his face; his front teeth were abnormally sharp looking.
I opened the door and wheeled out. The wind felt great against my skin. I saw a small bonfire and six people surrounding it; there was laughter.
Then we got to the stairs, and he lifted the entire chair. I felt as if Jack could ragdoll me at any point.
"Hey everyone, look who finally woke up!" I heard some awkward claps, and that was it. He brought me right next to the bonfire.
"So, we've got some good news. Now, he does want to join us, but there is some bad news with it." He started to repetitively drum his fingers on my shoulders.
"The bad news is that one of you is training this no-blood kid."
"Isn't that a liability for us? He's no blood!"
"What's the big deal? Sure, I'm not resistant to mana, but that's it!" I interjected, and quite a few death stares met me.
"Well, ignorant city boy, it also makes us physically stronger and more durable," a girl with long dark red hair said.
Jack leaned down. "That's Mia; she's just a little drunk."
Jack then leaned away. "So, then I'll have to choose the physically weakest—Ema," and he pointed at the girl who seemed to have issues with me.
She let out a sigh. "Alright," she was holding a brown bottle.
"So, if he's joining us, he should also know everyone. So we will go around one at a time and introduce ourselves. I'll start." He stepped to the side and grabbed another brown bottle and opened it.
"I'm Jackson Silva; most people just call me Jack." He then pointed to a bigger dude.
The bigger dude let out a chuckle. "Hey Jack, I think you forgot something; you're also a total dumbass. Anyway, I'm Elumint Charlson, and if you rip a pair of pants, I'll fix them."
Mia next spoke, "I'm Mia Alarsol, and I use an exploding shield."
Then it was the girl who didn't like me. "I'm Ema Kingsler, and I don't like you."
"Really couldn't have guessed that," I said under my breath.
There was one dude left; he was seated away from everyone else, and I could barely spot him in the darkness. "I'm Silas Buliston, and I like being left alone."
"Well, nice to meet you all; I'm Victor Alusa, and I'm from the flying city. Bet most of you could have guessed that."
Jack pulled up a lawn chair. "So there's also Greg; he's our blacksmith. Granted, I feel like we should call him a scamsmith, but not the point… he made you something."
He set a smaller dagger in my lap. "We had to use your previous weapon for the handle. I hope that's fine, but it should be better than what you had since it's made from the stalker you were fighting."
He opened one of the brown bottles. "So, now if you need anything, talk to Ema. I'm going to get stupidly drunk and do some dumb shit."
"You don't have to get drunk; you just do dumb shit," Mia threw a bottle into the fire.
"Shut up, you drunk short stack!" He walked over to Mia.
I looked down at the dagger; its handle was made from the rebar. Was this a sinew? Probably, right? So I should be really careful with it.
Silas was walking by. "Good to meet you, and try not to die." He continued his walk toward the doors.
"Okay..."
"Don't let Silas get under your skin; he's always like that—well, unless you replace his pillow with a cement recreation… he still hasn't talked to me after I did that." Elumint scooted his chair toward me.
"How does one make a cement recreation?" I asked. How does one perfectly create something like that?
"Well, 18 days and about 12 chisels."
"Enough chatting; I need to get him ready for our next target, which should be in two weeks."