Akira frowned at Hortence’s reaction to her question, her patronizing attitude already making her regret a little bit that she left the relative safety of the hospital, and of Rafaela’s protection, for this. Still, a part of her grudgingly admitted to herself that the question was a rather stupid one as her would-be protector led her out into the street, weaving her through houses and alleyways, following a dizzying path Akira knew only Hortence could perceive. She walked, ran, half-stumbling along the way. “Wait!” she would say now and then, which came out as an impatient squeak rather than an imposition.<br/><br/>What Hortence said about the neighborhood, though, quieted her complaints, and it made her pay more attention to her surroundings. She may be from a different world, but poverty had the same grimy look everywhere. While she couldn’t claim to count herself among their number, it was a reality she had lived with closely back on Earth. With a pang of guilt she realized how shielded she was from it when Akire took her under her wing and offered her succor in Amria. Living with an Empress for four years tended to dull one’s awareness of the outside world. She wanted to tell Hortence that yes, she knew, in a way. She knew that the law was written by the privileged, and would likely continue to serve them unless a clamor was raised, but she bit her tongue. No need to antagonize her guide any more for the meantime.<br/><br/>She listened as the woman’s cockiness faltered the more she talked about Misttown and its people, about the wrongs she needed to fix. Now, she was sounding more like a Paladin. If nothing else, Akira could hold onto that, too; Hortence didn’t look like the type to sugarcoat or lie, and so far, to her own amazement, she hadn’t been wrong yet about her assessment on the two new Paladin she had encountered today. Still, though, there was something to be said about a person who could easily knock a stranger out without a second thought, but then again how did she know Akire hadn’t done anything like that, herself? Kire was more concerned than Hortence with shielding her from danger, including the danger that transparency could potentially bring. God, she loved Kire, but that always rankled at her.<br/><br/>Akira noticed her eyes watering, her breath growing heavier as the hair grew thicker, the city’s odors growing more sour, like something rotten was roasting over a fire. Before it could get worse, Hortence provided her with a contraption that looked like a weird oxygen mask; she had seen enough sci-fi to know that this must be its purpose. All the comic books in the world couldn’t have told her how damned heavy the thing was, though. Already she could feel the strain tugging slightly at her neck muscles, and she groaned, not looking forward to the feeling getting worse the longer she wore it. Reminding herself not to look ungrateful for the filter, she exhaled noisily as if to try and draw out all the negativity in her head with one breath.<br/><br/>The sadness in Hortence was easy to see. As Akira’s gaze flickered from her face to the toxic plumes billowing out of the chimneys, it was as if the weight of their gas masks began to grow the more Hortence talked. Wrenched for a moment out of her current reality by the fugitive’s confession, Aki followed the pull of her own memory to a dark, familiar room, the stench of her fear oozing out of her pores, and the shadows, growing closer, growing larger….<br/>“Fuck,” she said, crouching down, her voice sounding mechanical through the mask, “Jesus, Hortence.” Aki cradled her head, her eyes shut, fingers shaking as she got ahold of herself. She didn’t speak for a full minute. When she had calmed down, she cleared her throat and straightened up, looking out at the sorry district veiled in noxious fumes. Hortence’s attitude made more sense, now, even though Akira couldn’t yet find it in herself to completely trust her fellow Paladin at the moment.<br/><br/>“I don’t know if you believe in fate and stuff like that,” she began, cautiously watching the woman beside her, “but I was told that Rings are given out to people for a reason. Who am I to argue against what you’re doing, or what for? Hell, if anything, if there’s anybody I need to second-guess, it’s me.” She crossed her arms, clicking her tongue. “So. Where to?”