Into the room strides Strife. He is clad in a long black tench coat of some sort of heavy cloth. The only other discernable clothing features are a pair of leather gloves, and a pair of combat boots. The boots are spattered with mud, but a carefully polished surface gleams underneath.
"Hello everyone. Strange bunch, neh? Which ones of you can I trust? Light does not truly suit me, but I abhor the darkness."
He surveys the room. He looks at Acria, standing in front of her.
"You have blood on your hands. Those who'd kill without reason should expect to be killed by those with one. Expect nothing from me."
Strife looks at Inaluct. Smiling, but worried at once.
"Not much for self preservation, are you? I'd be careful. Although I'll protect you with my life, do not waste it freely."
He turns to Hypnon and Exis. Looking inquisitivly.
"You two are dark, but don't seem to be evil. It is important to remember that good may not be acheived only by light. Yet, the power of dark may not yeild itself easily."
He takes Exis's hand and kisses it lightly. He shakes Hypnon's hand warmly.
"We are kindred souls, from my first impression. Call me when you are in need."
He moves to the avion, and strokes it lightly on the wing, not waking it ((him?)).
"Now, what do we have here? Not even I can figure much out in this case."
He gives Fenrir a quick pat on the head, then moves over to the armchair. He looks at the sleeping figure, then moves on to Ajax.
"Ajax, the name of a hero? Who went mad when he was not considred the best. Be careful and do not let your emotions control you overmuch. What hypocrites we all are?"
His tour complete, Strife moves to the couch and sits next to Armok. He reaches into his pocket and removes a thick, small, softcover, book. It has seen much, and looks to be falling apart. It has no front or back cover. The binding is cracked, no title can be made out. Strife begins to read. With one hand holding the book open, Strife absent mindedly pets Armok.
"Well, it may not be a good idea to tell me, but I must ask, what has transpired in the single worknight from when I heard about this to my arival?"