Vespi sneered at the Water Elemental easily keeping pace with the Storm Riders.<span style="font-style: italic">How dare she taunt us like that,</span>she brooded. She shouted to the Rider nearest her, a sandstorm faerie called Geirhald and indicated the Water Elemental. Geirhald's ephemeral face morphed into something like a scowl and made a questioning gesture.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Should I do something about her?</span><br/><br/>Vespi shook her head. No, let the Elemental be for now. The Storm Riders had more important matters to attend to.<br/><br/>Not too long later, the Riders pulled up alongside a nondescript tavern with a sign that read 'The Abandoned Warehouse' and depicted a few discarded crates. Telling people to meet at The Abandoned Warehouse was something of a loyalty test because scattered around Stormfront were a number of real abandoned warehouses, many of which were controlled by various other gangs. None of these locations bore official names, and their locations were never revealed to non-members. Some were converted to other buildings with new names, but still run by these gangs and referred to them as such. The Storm Riders had taken it to a meta level by taking an abandoned warehouse, renovating it into a bar, and then naming it the Abandoned Warehouse.<br/><br/>Geirhald remained at Vespi's side while the other Riders lumbered inside. He touched her arm carefully (lighting + sand = glass) and spoke words that sounded like dusty wind in the distance. Vespi understood; most Atmosfaerie could understand each other.<br/><br/>"I'm sure, Geir. Enemy of my enemy, you know."<br/><br/>More words, rough sandpaper on stone.<br/><br/>"They don't know. They won't, if I have anything to say about it."<br/><br/>A gentle breeze with just a few bits of sand.<br/><br/>"Don't worry. I'll do what needs to be done. For us. For all of us."<br/><br/>Geirhald seemed satisfied, but let his touch linger. Vespi broke it off and turned to await her followers.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Jereman Opheia quit his pacing when a servant entered the room and bowed. "My Lord Corsswind."<br/><br/>"What is it?" he snapped, then composed himself. "Yes?"<br/><br/>"Ah. There is a...ah...young lady here for you."<br/><br/>Jereman narrowed his eyes and studied the hallway beyond the door. "Who?"<br/><br/>"She...didn't say."<br/><br/>"Why not?"<br/><br/>"She...can't."<br/><br/>He considered that a moment, then nodded. "Then it's her. Take me to her." As they walked, he asked of the servant, "Have the Blade Riders deployed?"<br/><br/>"Yes, sir. They were alerted as soon as the Storm Riders reappeared in sight of the city."<br/><br/>Jereman remained silent until they arrived at the drawing room, wherein sat upon a couch a young lady with bright red hair and stunning blue eyes. She stared him, unblinking, expressionless. He couldn't help but notice her...interesting yellow striped dress. She hugged something metal to her chest tightly.<br/><br/>"It's very nice to meet you, Miss...?"<br/><br/>"Sylvia," a mechanical voice finished. Her lips hadn't moved, but the sound had appeared to come from her... "Sylvia Cavendish," it said again. This time, Jereman noticed a light on the metal blink with each word. He studied a moment before realizing it was a weapon of some kind; the handle reached the floor, and she hugged the business end to her.<br/><br/>"Miss Cavandish," he completed with a polite bow. "I had expected to see the Director."<br/><br/>"The Director has other matters." Despite a mechanical voice, Jereman noticed an air of contempt in those words. "She cannot be bothered with this. Madam Sylvia will be more than sufficient for cleaning up your mess, Crosswind."<br/><br/>"My mess? I haven't - "<br/><br/>"Precisely. You haven't. Windborne Haley stalks your streets with robots, money wizards, and biker gangs. As well, numerous other Project: Midnight experiments have somehow waltzed through your gates without so much as an alert. The Director once held high regard for you, Jereman. It seems the Crosswind has...softened since the shutdown."<br/><br/>Jereman fumed. The wind within the room picked up, blowing papers and small utensils about. He opened his mouth to shout something, but the weapon cut him off.<br/><br/>"Capture Windborne Haley, Lord Opheia. Do what you will with the other experiments. Nothing pertaining to Project: Midnight is to leave the city." Sylvia rose, continuing to hold the weapon (which resembled a broadsword) and walked towards the door. She glanced at him sideways with that expressionless facade. "Do you understand?"<br/><br/>"Yes," he growled. But the red-haired girl and her strange weapon were already gone.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Horror considered Sark a moment, then turned to the Nightman. "I wish to understand what I am. Surely you understand?" The Nightman was simultaneously a robot and a clone; in Horror's experience, both beings always sought to understand their own existence. "So perhaps you would be willing to search with me in the future?"<br/><br/>He glanced at the image of the Hooters. "Until then...a takeover, yes?" He cast a scornful look back at Sark. "What kind would you prefer? I can make them vampires. I can make them werewolves. I can also make them mindless zombies - although I don't suppose such a state of being would be very much different from their current one."<br/><br/>After a moment, he added, "I can also call several kinds of plagues."<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Haley avoided abusing the barbarian, and so edged just a bit farther ahead of the Dayman, arriving at the Abandoned Warehouse in time to see Vespi turn away from the Sandstorm Atmosfaerie.<br/><br/>As Haley parked the bike and got off, Dorian groaned and muttered something about liking the bike more than the watch. Haley started to say something an edgy loner would no doubt say, but Vespi cut her off with a voice like crackling electricity.<br/><br/>"I shall wait for the others. Go on in and have a drink."<br/><br/>Haley frowned, studying the Faerie and her companion, before stomping off to the bar. The bar was...well, you ever been in a biker bar? No? Ever seen one on TV? Yeah, it looked like that, but with people made of weather instead of leather.<br/><br/>What? What do you mean you've never seen a biker bar on TV? What are you, six? Go watch the first fifteen minutes of Terminator and get back to me. I'll wait.<br/><br/>(No I won't.)<br/><br/>Haley found a seat at the bar, but didn't order a drink. Everything on the shelf looked like something a witch would brew.<br/><br/>"Been a long time since I've been in one of these," she muttered.<br/><br/>"Turn around," Dorian moaned. "I want to seeeeeeeee!"<br/><br/>"Ugh." Haley spun around and leaned back with her elbows on the bar, watching the door. "There."