Only a few days had passed from the time at Teddy's, where Noctis and his compatriots had decided to adventure to the mysterious Jordsand in pursuit of adventure and seastone. Still, there was a lengthy downtime between their declaration and actually setting sail. Not comfortable twaddling his thumbs while he waited, Noctis opted to go straight back into his work; undermining Garrolt Taylor and the Underworld as much as possible.

Noctis was aware of his and Devroux's recent bounty among the criminals and miscreants of Baltigo, meaning that he would have to proceed carefully. Taking a page out of the hunters he had encountered in the Eighth District in the past, Noctis donned a cloak and mask, courtesy of Goldov. With his identity now concealed, the longleg was ready to advance.


Noctis exited the warehouse he was utilizing as his temporary base of operations, his body dissolving into the air and flowing through the small cracks and imperfections on the wall, reforming himself along the outside once he was sure the area was clear of onlookers. Making his way onto the main street, Noctis found himself in the busy hours of the Ninth District. Filled with unique characters and figures wherever you turned, Noctis' garb didn't garner him much if any attention as he freely paced the district, listening in for gossip and rumors.

While most people often dismissed small talk for information gathering, Noctis had found that there were grains of truth in every statement. With Noctis' ambitions set high, talk of his next target was more likely to come to him normally than anything else. As Noctis prowled, he heard several interesting, but irrelevant rumors. Talk of the Bandit King, whom Noctis had personally run into not long ago, having shown himself on Baltigo. Whispers of an auction rapidly gathering attention. Jordsands activity beginning to escalate. They were all possible leads to investigate, but not the most prudent.

Finally, Noctis caught a break.

"Oi, what do you make of that new Casino the Lord's 'bout to open?" a gruff looking merchant asked his customer from behind the stall. The woman, who seemed dressed and ready to go out for a night on the town, handed the shopkeep a coin purse and replied. "Oh, it looks lavish. I can't wait for it to open!" she exclaimed excitedly before trailing off as concerns began to rise to the surface. "...Although, they say La Bomba is supposed to attend... Those cultists running the Sixth District never fail to creep me out."

The man took his payment and began to count out the beli within, continuing the chat as he counted. "That's true. Los Diablos are always a wild card... Still, you'd think a Kingpin like La Bomba would try and maintain a reputation, for the Lord's sake." Handing the woman a small baggie filled with a small amount of white powder, the man smiled, causing her to reciprocate the kindness. "I guess you're right. Thanks again, I'll be by next week." she announced before turning and walking away, sliding the goods into her small purse.

Interesting... Beyond the fact I just witnessed a drug deal, this Los Diablos cult seems like quite the source of anxiety here on Baltigo... Noctis thought to himself, retreating back into the back alleyways to decide on his next course of action. Taking down a criminal cult and a kingpin was just the sort of goal he had in mind, but he still needed more to go on. All he had was their district of operations, as well as the title of their leader, La Bomba. Not wanting to be as unprepared as he had been for taking on Clovis Adder, Noctis had come to a conclusion. It was time to pay the Sixth District a visit.

As Noctis walked the track into the Sixth District, the atmosphere of the area made him feel a sense of unease almost immediately. The reputation for the Sixth District distributing weapons of war certainly seemed true on the surface. It was largely industrial, the air thick with a smog that seemed to find itself fused into every brick. A train ran in and out of the district, likely connecting to the Ninth District for storage. It was all cut and dry for the most part, a regular factory town. That is, until Noctis spied the cathedrals.

Towering yet hastily built and ragged, steeples found their way into the sky, a fire burning within them to give the district a sunset-like hue at all times of day. Thinking it must be the work of Los Diablos, Noctis made a mental note regarding the piousness of the cult. Surely to build such structures was an act of devotion, if nothing else. Still, Noctis' knowledge regarding the terrorist organization was slim. He had titles and names, but knew nothing of their structure, their hierarchy, or their logistics. In order to discern his next moves, Noctis understood that a more personal observation was needed.

Surely as a religious group, some sort of preaching, prayer, or worship was likely to take place. It was in these meetings of gospel that Noctis could gather information directly from the cultists themselves. Proceeding carefully, Noctis spotted one of the burning towers and began to work his way along the pathway leading there.

Traveling the streets of the Sixth District left Noctis more wary than even that of the Eighth District, where Garrolt Taylor was likely to have eyes everywhere. Perhaps it was the occasionally rhythmic drumming that echoed through the streets, or the men and women prostrating themselves in the street, a crazed look upon their faces. Even those who seemed to be going about their day normally shot suspicious glances here and there. Still no one approached Noctis, likely thinking the masked longleg as some sort of pilgrim come to bare witness to their dogmatic ways.

As Noctis approached the temple-like structure, he took notice of it's state and surroundings. The doors were open, or rather, there were no doors. From within the flickering light of flame illuminated the street outside, showcasing the numerous patrons that sat silently inside. There were innumerable escape routes that Noctis had available to him, as steam filled pipes wove through the district's infrastructure like veins. In an emergency, Noctis felt confident that he could take himself into one of the pipes in his gaseous state, carrying him away from the scene.

With a safe fallback in place Noctis entered the church, ready to receive his testament.  

As Noctis took his first steps into the temple, the first thing that caught his attention was the thick smell of gunpowder in the air. It seemed to come from everywhere, the walls, the furnishings, and even the people who kneeled in worship, covered in the black soot. No one in prayer seemed to pay him much notice, as everyone within had a distinct appearance, quirks that anywhere else would cause them to stick out like a sore thumb, strange fashion choices, deformities, almost every race you could imagine. Almost everyone was represented here, which gave Noctis an uneasy sense of conformity. It was easy to see how the cult was able to grow and integrate into Baltigo so easily.

Still, as he took his place at the very back of the room, the priest who stood at the alter at the front of the building looked to Noctis with a warm, but expectant smile; nodding to the masked longleg to signal that he was quite aware he was no regular. Yet, without any reason to suspect anything nefarious, the preacher in his ragged and blackened robes began his sermon:

"You may now stand." the official projected, gesturing to the room that they were now able to get comfortable for what was likely to be a lengthy session. "We stand here tonight as children, from the endowed patrons of sin... to the fresh and curious, still not enlightened to the truths of our world-"

The priest sent Noctis a final glance of acknowledgement before truly getting into the thick of his speech. Listening on keenly for information to glean from the experience, Noctis found much of Los Diablos' strategy in regards to recruitment and brainwashing to be relatively standard. Praying on the weak and the outcasts, and giving them a place where they felt they belonged, or a place they felt important. It was far from original, but it was effective and efficient, and the scale at which it seemed to operate was impressive to say the least.

Outside of his sense of respect for the operation, Noctis was on edge and did his best to hide it in his mannerisms. The mask helped in this regard, as he didn't have to hide his expressions, and the cloak around him managed to conceal his body language fairly well. However, his anxiety was only agitated by the lack of truly useful information coming from the preacher.

Eventually, after a lengthy sermon, the preacher began to wind down and finally get into the finer aspects of what it meant to be a member of Los Diablos. Noctis, having leaned against the wall to support himself throughout the ordeal, managed to peel himself off in order to fully pay attention.

"-and remember, children, that there is no other way to ensure our Nirvana than to sacrifice. Not just of the heart and soul, but of the flesh. Those of you who have been assigned know your duty, and are to report to the Sin of Lust at the development district. The rest of you are free to go and embrace your Sin's teachings at the appropriate date." the priest said, dismissing those within, the mass shambling outside the door frame and into the streets to go about their business. As Noctis turned to leave as well with his new information, the priest grabbed his attention, motioning for him to approach the altar. "I have not forgotten you, newcomer. How did you enjoy tonight's service?"

Obliging, Noctis strode to the front of the church, facing the holy man. "It was certainly... thought provoking." Noctis explained, doing his best to be as engaged as possible, not wanting to appear dismissive or completely unaffected. Playing the role of a potential member on the edge of joining was the most likely avenue to get the priest to reveal more than he normally would or should.

"Ah, yes. I know sometimes our sermons can be a bit intense or jarring for people, but I'm certainly glad you stuck around. Now, I'm sure you've heard plenty about us, no? How we're a cult or terrorists or both, but I can assure you that's not our intentions. Come, let me unveil your 'sin'. There is no tricks or commitment, just a simple divination to leave you with something to think about."

Hesitantly, Noctis followed the man behind the alter, where he was instructed to kneel. The older preacher slowly removed the bandages around his forehead, revealing a closed third eye surrounded by scars so deep and detailed that it wouldn't have been anything but deliberate in it's pattern. Placing a hand on Noctis' shoulder, which rested just above waist height for the priest, his eyes closed while his third eye opened, it's pupil moving rapidly, dilating in a chaotic and unnatural manner. Noctis didn't feel any malicious intent, and despite the 'eye candy' there was nothing supernatural or impossible about the interaction. Letting the priest finish his divination, Noctis watched as the man opened his eyes completely before looking down upon the longleg.

"Interesting, your 'sin' is a complex one, and hard to categorize. The darkest within you, Wrath, seems to overshadow your ultimate self. Still, there is a great deal of Envy and Greed within you. I take it you were mistreated severely at some point in time."

"Perhaps I was... Sorry, but I shouldn't take up any more of your time." Noctis didn't feel like entertaining the man's games any longer, and didn't anticipate anything more from him. Simple, broad statements to try in hone in on specifics through trial and error was the bread and butter of any medium or psychic. Still, it was this very technique that made the masked longleg feel suspicious of the priest. While it was a broad statement, Noctis couldn't say he was incorrect, and even though he was almost sure that there was no true divination at play, Noctis couldn't disprove it. Rather than risk the minuscule chance that he was truly looking into Noctis' past or personality, the ex-slave decided to play it safe, rising to his feet and hastily making his way towards the exit.

As he passed the threshold of the doorway, the priest exclaimed from behind, "Do not worry! Your chains will bind you no longer!" The sudden aggressiveness and on the nose statement made Noctis quicken his pace just a tad bit faster as he left to regroup and recount what he had learned.

Once Noctis was a fair distance away from the temple, he finally stopped to compose himself. Despite the creepy conclusion, the information he gleaned from the trip wasn't insignificant by any means. Not only did he discover that each sin holds domain over some facet of life in this district, but that the Sin of Lust was located specifically in the development sector. As good of a place to start as any, Noctis set his eyes on targeting Lust first and foremost. Still, even with the information he gathered, he had no idea about their personal capabilities or strengths. He would have to prepare heavily and for any scenario.

Concluding his trip in the Sixth District, Noctis slowly made his way back into the Ninth District, locating his vacant warehouse that he had been using to tinker and invent in recent days. Bringing his body into a fully gaseous state, he flowed under the locked and chained door and into the vast space within before materializing. First, from what he knew of the cult, Los Diablos tended to use explosives to commit their acts of terrorism and zeal. With his gas being relatively volatile, he was in a rather unique predicament in that regard. He would need something to protect himself from heat should his gas ignite or he be faced with an otherwise fiery threat.

Thinking back to his duracloth, a fabric designed to resist the effects of slicing, cutting and tearing, making a specialized fire-retardant material shouldn't be overly complicated. Simple wool already proved to be fitting as a base, having a higher ignition point than many other textiles. Giving it a simple polymer treatment with materials from Goldov would prove to be cost effective and efficient. With that in mind, simple defensive measures weren't going to cut it for preparation. He needed something proactive.

The properties of his Rokumori Gas, it's volatility and flammability specifically, could be viewed as disadvantageous in regards to his opponents, but Noctis didn't quite see it that way. He was determined to use what he had to work an edge against La Bomba, and give him a taste of his own medicine. Noctis had long since planned on terrorizing the terrorists, but now Noctis could take the dramatic irony once step further.

Searching for a basic container in the mostly vacant warehouse, Noctis soon found himself frustrated and empty handed. Instead, he would have to make his own 'container'. While he was now capable of creating Rokumori gas without a gesture, advanced techniques still required the use of his hands. Holding out his palm, Noctis began to constitute the purple vapor and condense it into a ball in his palms. With some concentration, Noctis was able to put a fairly decent amount into a sphere around the size of a baseball, which was now near black from it's density. After a moment of keeping it in place and stable, he felt comfortable pushing himself even further. Crushing down the gas he had gathered, Noctis was able to force it down to nearly the size of a marble.

Noctis' hand trembled with the strain, and the tiny ball of gas vibrated erratically in his palm. After a few more seconds of struggling, Noctis had to get rid of his creation before it caused serious damage to his hands. Tossing it forward, his control of the marble immediately loosened, causing the gas to expand against his will, a sphere the size of his torso suddenly appearing in front of him, the force of which caused him to stagger backwards as the gas traveled towards the edge of the warehouse. Concerned but curious at to what would happen once it reached it's 'target', he watched on in both abject horror and fascination as the sphere hit the wall, exploding with enough force to quake the building and filling the room with a thick layer of Rokumori Gas.

While it wasn't nearly what he had been hoping to accomplish, it was a devastating attack in it's own right. After some cleanup, Noctis regathered the lingering gas, compressing it once more, though to a much lesser degree, leaving it at the size of a grapefruit. Tossing it out a fair distance in front of him, the pressurized ball lingered in the air as Noctis held it in place, letting a trail of gas leading from himself to the floating orb act as a fuse. Pulling out his ignition stone and Kuroi. Noctis struck the mineral against his blade, creating a shower of sparks that quickly lit the fuse. The flames traveled rapidly to the ball before creating an eruption of fire that Noctis was far to close to for his own good, his clothing singed, all that shielded him from the full brunt of the explosion being his own massive weapon.

With the proof of concept for a bomb going more or less successfully, Noctis now had an idea for his next two creations. A vessel capable of holding his gas under extremely high pressure, and a fire-retardant fabric to protect himself. With that in mind, Noctis saw it fit to call it a day and sleep overnight at the warehouse, rather than walking all the way back to Teddy's. Putting out any stray fires, Noctis tucked himself away, laying atop what few crates remained in the area, resting his eyes after a productive day.
[Exit]