Crossroads led the couple towards the house saying nothing at all to them as they weren't exactly anything near what she would consider pleasant company. Besides, there was little to talk about with them. She supposed the woman seemed alright enough, but the scruffy guy... He made her feel nervous. She would be happy to get rid of both of them sooner rather than later. When They got to her front door she silently reached into an outside pocket of her bag and pulled out a key, unlocking the door.

Gforte grunts as Crossroads unlocks the door. "Well, beats my original plan of pretending to be a Truce housing inspector. Just as well. Wasn't sure what I was going to do for a uniform." He crosses his arms and waits for the seer-woman to let him inside his own goddamn house.

Jillian tucked all fingers on one hand, save her thumb, into a pocket of her pants, not prodding either one of them for idle banter. She had opted to leave Selan alone for the time being, going over in her mind the scenarioes that could've played out if she'd chosen otherwise; none of them seemed like they would end well. It's plain to say that her mind was definitely elsewhere even as she followed Gforte and you. Beyond all this, she had no idea how much time was on their side; depending on where Doom Island had fallen since the last war, it could be a week, or it could be a month. Even she didn't know. And then there was the matter of the Dual Blade... agh, too much too soon. Jillian sighed inaudibly, lowering her eyes somewhat.

Crossroads says nothing regarding the house inspector comment as she turns the door handle and pushes it open, stepping inside and allowing the two to follow only as far as the bathroom door which had conviniently been left open. She made a quick glance around for Tyrranis, not seeing the gigantos anywhere in immediate sight. "Access to the attic is right through here." Crossroads said, gesturing with one hand into the bathroom.

Gforte frowns at the sight of the little he can see of the house. "The hell did you people do to my house? It used to be a three room wonderland of electronics and scrap!" He grumbles at the apparent waste of all of his hard-earned detrius, but moves into the bathroom, pulling down the stairs leading up to the attic. Further grumbles accompany him up into the room itself.

Jillian frowns somewhat, her attention swiftly coming back to the immediate hereof. She looks at Crossroads briefly, thrn Gforte and his comment. "Don't snap at her, this isn't your house anymore. A little gratitude at even being allowed back in here to reclaim what's yours could see our host with a little less concern for her own well-being." She sounded apologetic, waiting outside the doorframe of the bathroom and watching Gforte head inside, one hand still in her pocket.

Crossroads glares at the man as he heads up the stairs, and is about to say something to Gforte when much to her surprise the woman speaks up. She blinked, her anger diminishing a little as she glances to Jillian looking a little confused. "This place was a wreck when I got it. At least now I know who made it that way" She mutter as the man dissapeared into the attic, "If your boyfriend has any grievance reguarding his missing personal possessions he should take it up with the landlord. All I found was whatever was left up in the attic."

Gforte glances around the attic, now quiet once he's on his own. It really didn't matter that most of it had been tossed. He moves past the bed and small table and kneels before the large black chest. In truth, the object had preformed to his exact wishes, remaining unmoved and uncared for. He lays a hand on it, taking a moment to try and put up a semblance of a guard.

Jillian opts to not say anything about the coupling remark, and she could only imagine what the place looked like before its new owner assumed its purchase, especially if the junkyard Gforte felt so at-home in was any indication. The corner of her mouth upturns slightly, and she moves to stand at the base of the stairs, peering up toward the attic after Gforte. "You have our thanks for allowing this. I understand you are likely confused by this whole thing, but we will be out of your hair soon enough, and with any luck, you won't see us again."

No, it wasn't entirely confusion but something else entirely, she was more than looking forward to them collecting whatever piece of junk this guy left and getting out of here. Yeah, she would still look into the future for the woman if she wanted her to as she seemed almost like a decent person compared to the guy she was with but as for having their thanks, Crossroads wasn't so sure how true that was. She gripped the strap of her bag as she looked up into the dark recesses of the attic. "What is that thing he is getting anyway? I thought it was part of the houses heating system."

Gforte traces his hand along the chest for a moment, remembering it's design and purpose, before sighing. "Right, Let's get you open then." He puts his hand against the front of the chest, and a sparking white light spills from his hand.

"I actually don't know." Jillian's answer was simple, yet honest. "He sounded relatively exuberant about reclaiming whatever it was, and considering what we are up against, we could probably use whatever he thinks we need." He response was a little vague, and she didn't look at you as she spoke, only further up the staircase into the Attic. Jillian's curiosity, however, started to creep back in as she recalled, again, what this woman was. "Do tell, however. Do you know of beings known as the 'Sinistrals,' sweetie?"

"No, I have never heard of any beings with that name before." She answered, shaking her head. This was the first she had heard of them. Though with 'sinister' being the root word, Crossroads could probably guess that they were evil. "Is that what you two are up against?"

The box, after recieving the proper attention from Gforte, emits a loud 'THUNK', and a panel emerges from the seamless front of the box. Gforte lifts a portion of the panel to reveal a keyboard and a small prompt screen, upon which he types the words 'Deadman protocol'. The box seems to accept this, the panel receeding back into the box and in turn the top emits a hiss of gas as a seam suddenly makes itself noticable.

Jillian nods twice in quick succession. "Indeed. They are... higher beings that desire to ascend to godhood, but in order to that, they must prove victorious in a specific ritual that is said to take place at least once every couple hundred years. Thus far, they have yet to do so, but with each incarnation, they grow more knowledgeable and cunning. There are four of them, altogether, members of a dire family that seek dominance over all."

"What kind of ritual is it? I mean, it would have to be something big or else how can you be so certain that they haven't done it yet?" It was either that or this woman had access to some other knowledge connected to the ritual. Either way Crossroads discomfort was giving away to curiousity and she wanted to take in whatever information this woman had on the matter, especially if she was going to end up getting any more surprise visions about it.

Gforte sets his hands on the now-separated lid of the box, and pushes it up, revealing a somewhat macabre scene instantly revealed. Immediately inside of the box is indistinguishable from a coffin, white frilled cloth surrounding what seems to be an old and battered small yellow robot. Gforte's eyes immediately lock with it, and the man pauses. Slowly, he reaches down and sets a hand on top of it's helmet, stroking it reverently.

Jillian watches the darkness of the attic momentarily before offering a response. "A 'ritual' is somewhat of a stretch, I suppose. To be it more succinctly, they must engage in a test of will against proposed 'Champions' of the world that would stand against their reign. Arek the Absolute oversees this 'ritual' between Sinistral and mankind, to ensure that the rules are followed accordingly; just because the Sinistrals are evil does not mean they are lawless. As opposed to a 'ritual', you could possibly consider it a 'contest'. A battle of wills, between good and evil." Jillian removes her hand from her pocket, placing it on one of her hips. "The Dual Blade is the catalyst and center focus of this contest."

Crossroads gaze follows the woman's towards the attic. What was taking this guy so long? There was only one thing up there left for him to get and he probably should have gotten it by now. Everything the woman explained about this seemed new to her and she had a dozen questions to ask. Like what idiot would actually let things like them any chance that would allow them to acend to godhood? and who was Arek the Overseer, and what kind of rules were these things bound by? Instead she asked, "And you two are the champions that stand against them?"

"Hey buddy. Been a while." Gforte gives the robot a smile before continuing. "Wish I could say I was here for you, but you know me. Never there when needed. I need the gear... Look. I promise. I'll be back for you soon Mike. Just, have to take care of some things first. I promise, I'll come back for you." He grits his teeth, and presses a button inside the coffin, causing it to rise to reveal the rest of the box's contents.

Gforte yells at the staircase over his shoulder. "Oi! Get the girl up here!" He reaches inside and closes his hand around what seems to be a bar of solid gold, hefting it out and tossing it a little ways behind him.

Jillian shakes her head, perhaps surprisingly. "Half-correct. I cannot participate in the contest, because I am not of this world. I answer to a higher calling; I am merely a guide for one who could possibly be considered such a champion. I merely wish to see him live up to his potential, if indeed there is any; it yet remains to be seen." Jillian quietens momentarily, looking from the attic to Crossroads herself. "Do not fault him so quickly for his shortcomings. He is rash, stubborn, and without a child's degree of manners. But his conviction and courage are... curious, to say the least." Jillian leaves it at that, as she promptly ascends the staircase into the attic.

Crossroads followed the woman up into the attic, assuming that by 'the girl' the man had meant her. She had no idea what he could possibly want now as she thought her role here was pretty much finished save for the reading if one was still wanted and closing the door behind them. She was a bit surprised though when she saw the bar of gold in the man's hand and her gaze quickly shot towards the box expecting to see more there. She tried to keep her expression neutral though it was fairly hard. That gold... if she had known it was up here all alone she wouldn't have had to worry so much about their financial troubles when she lost her job as a fortune teller. Then again, not knowing about probably saved Crossroads from some of this man's complaints.

"Figure you're going to keep complaining at me once I've had my piece here, so this'll serve as a bit of emotional greasing." Gforte fishes another bar from the box and tosses it next to the first one. "Those are yours. You keep them, do whatever the fuck you want with them. Frankly I couldn't care less. But in return? You don't do a goddamn thing to this box or what it contains. I find out later you have\, and there will be a brand of hell you could never possibly imagine in store. And trust me. I am not fucking joking on this."

Jillian allows herself to stand off to one side of the top of the staircase, and looks like she was about to stay something about the gold and black box, but quickly shuts herself up at Gforte's request and accompanied remarks. Her vertical green irises flash noticeably in the dim attic light, and her face contorts somewhat, as though strained. Her hand, originally at her hip, clenches for just a moment, then hangs loosely at her side as her face softens (or at least returns to normal, anyway), and she says... nothing. A subtle sigh escapes through Jillian's nostrils, but that's all; what good has anything she's said done by this time, anyway? No reason to start again, now.

Crossroads clentched her fists, "So you call me up here to give me some bars of gold in exchange for watching your junk then follow it up with threats?" She stepped forward and kicked the gold bars, gritting her teeth as pain shot through her foot. Those things weren't meant to be kicked, but she didn't care at the moment. She had enough. "Keep your damn gold! I don't want it! Either take it all now, or try again by just asking me politely."

Gforte cocks his head and raises an eyebrow at the girl. "Oh, what's this? Since I spent my years locked up people have stopped blindly accepting large amounts of gold thrown at them? I find it pretty damn interesting there. Especially that you're throwing a hissy fit over a box that you never cared that much about, in a room that's hardly ever used, in a building that should, by all rights, still be mine. Given that I paid off this damn land a good year before I was forced to leave."

...Nevermind. Jillian steps forward, raising her voice to a level considerably above her usual tone. "That's enough!" She stands there for a second, scowling. "Haut, you can NOT threaten people! I don't have a large recollection of what you've gone through, what you've seen, or what you've endured. But the fact of the matter is that we ARE in her domain, we ARE on her property, and she has EVERY legal right to have us removed from the premises at the mere snap of her finger. Would it HONESTLY and truthfully kill you to ASK instead of DEMAND or THREATEN? Considering she let us into this house without a second guess, I'd say our chances of her watching over your things while we are gone are pretty damn high, if you'd just ASK NICELY. The gold is probably an even better deal-sealer, but not when you THREATEN HER LIFE AFTER OFFERING PAYMENT." The walls of the entire house shudder as she finishers her scolding, shaking some loose dust off areas that may have been neglected over time, but not causing any damage. The air in front of her face is literally tinted a soft green from the glow of her catlike eyes, emphasising her frustration at the situation.

Crossroads is momently caught off guard by the shaking of the house, wondering briefly if it was a small earthquake or just one of the many things that happen living in such an active area with magic users. This kind of thing apparently happened a lot at the towns fountain, but it was quite well times to the woman's statements. Everything she had been about to say to the man had pretty much been said already by her and then some. She still didn't give a shit about that box, but it was clearly important to him or else he wouldn't have tossed a couple of gold bars to her and threatened her over it. Surely if it mattered so much, her demands could be met on the matter though she imagined it would take quite a bit of effort. He had been a jerk to her from the moment she met him. She had nothing more to add, she simply stood there and waited.

Gforte grits his teeth as Jillian starts in on him. Instead of going with his first three reactions of lashing out due to the presumed double-team, Gforte attempts to listen, though subconciously he presses his back into the box while doing so.

Gforte spends a good few moments actively constructing the next sentence, fingers spasming in the air almost as if he were rather jerkily typing on a keyboard before he starts back up. "I... realize that it is possible for me to have been, rude in my... request." The last word is said through gritted teeth, but Gforte continues a moment later. "I will also state I never threatened her life, nor had the intent to, but that is not the matter here."

"It would make sense to me, personally, to help honor what in my eyes is a rather small request, given the current state of affairs. Though, I do give up that my view is not always the one that matches reality most of the time." Gforte looks over his shoulder for a moment, and the raised 'coffin' containing something he seemed to hold dear. "I would like it if you could not disturb my friend. There has been far too much wrong done in the short portion of my life that it happened with, but he stayed with me. If it were up to me, I wouldn't even be disturbing him now. But, shit happened."'

Jillian softens her expression considerably, looking sincerely impressed at the control Gforte has undertaken to express himself in such a way as this. Her stance loosens somewhat, and she declines her head toward Crossroads, her irises losing the majority of their glow. "Would it be a major burden if we asked you to keep it safe for him, until we are able to retrieve it on an indefinite basis in the future? We would greatly appreciate it."

Crossroads continues staring wordlessly at the man for a long moment. It may have not been on her life, but threats still had been made. And his words seemed to reflect more of a request given to her in document rather than him asking her face to face personally. It felt too formal; From a lawyer and not quite directed at her but towards an unknown entity (or the other lady, perhaps?). The phrase 'To whom it may concern' came to mind. There was a sort of detachedness about it.

Still, it looked as though this might be the best she was going to get; No 'please', no 'thank you' no 'sorry' or even actual acknowlegement of wrong doing. Anymore than this though would probably physically hurt the guy. Crossroads' expression softened a little, feeling defeated "Alright. I'll look after him."

Gforte grimaces, but doesn't say anything further, instead he pulls a thin t-shirt out of the box, and pulls it on. Further, a backpack is produces as well, and several more objects are settled into it. What could be tools, the last bar of gold from dubious origins, and even a few pieces of robotics. Gforte then stands, lowering Mike's coffin back down into it's place and spending a moment further with the small robot.

Jillian offers a curt half-curtsey to Crossroads, and a blatant-fanged smile of sincerity. "Thank you. You've saved us a good degree of trouble and given us one less thing to have to worry about. I won't forget your kindness in this, considering you scarcely know us; maybe you'll need a favor of your own, one day." She turns, in better spirits now, and descends the stairs leisurely.

Crossroads sighed giving the woman a small smile and a nod in appriciation for her help standing up to him a few moments ago and turned back towards the stairs, She paused though, "Understand please, I will look after it so long as I am around, but I can't guarantee what might happen to it beyond that but I will try to make some arrangements. Are you still interested in the future by the way?"

Gforte shakes his head. "Knowing the future is useless for someone like me. I've got a greater than fifty percent chance of being murdered before I even lay hands on the sword she wants me to find." Gforte gives the helmet of his robot friend one last pet before he closes the lid of the box, and turning around with a grim face. "I don't need you to tell me I'm going to die if I'm going to be looking to find the ways not to."

Jillian pauses a few stairs down, hesitant about something. She looks back over her shoulder at Crossroads momentarily before speaking. "The future is not meant to be known by mankind. Speculation is that knowing what fate is designed for oneself will bring sorrow and despair, because despite knowing, you can't change everyone's destiny. If someone is meant to die, the reaper will not let them go so easily. Everyone has a final destination, and messing with the laws of nature is a good way to make things worse for people, despite good intentions." Jillian sounds sad at mentioning this, as though she didn't want to but felt like she had to, for whatever reason. She descends the rest of the way, not waiting for a response from you.

Crossroads nodded at the woman as this was something she was coming to understand too well. Every attempt she made to use the future to protect the people important to her only led to even more problems for them to deal with. She followed Jillian down the stairs, mulling over the woman's words in silence.

Gforte follows both women as well, still seemingly perturbed, but operating in silence for the moment. He moves to the door of the house right away, sparing only a few words to Jillian on the way. "Let's go see that woman if you want, but if you've decided against it then let's get the hell out of this city."

Jillian follows Gforte to the door, shaking her head once. "No. It's better if I don't, for similar reasons I just expressed. If we have no further business here, we'll be on our way to our next destination. Though it falls upon me to wonder where Maxim ended up, if Selan is here..." She muses to herself this last notion, not seeming to direct it toward anyone in particular.

Crossroads remains in the hallway outside the bathroom as they make their way towards the exit. She really had nothing more to say to the two of them and it was more of a matter of seeing the two off.

Gforte on the outskirts of town, Gforte jostles the backpack on his shoulder before looking at the walls of the Truce canyon before them. "So, Jill. You asked me earlier, but now I think it's my turn. You regreting pulling me back from death?"

"No." Jillian's answer is quick, though she avoids direct eye contact. "It was my decision. Not anyone else's. Whatever consequences result from it will be mine to deal with, and you needn't worry about them. Right now, you have a job to do, and change of fate or not, you're going to see it through to the end. There's no turning back now, understand?" She brushes a layer of dark hair behind one slightly-pointed ear, looking resolute.

"No need to get defensive on me Jill. I'm just trying to get a feel for if you're starting to think of me as an abomination or something. After all, relationships are hardly worth an attempt if one side thinks the other is better off dead." Gforte sets off walking again, heading in the direction of the mountians, and the village of wutai.

Jillian smirks faintly, following in tandem. "If it helps your mind, I'll let you know that I'm one of very few people, right now, who thinks you're not better off dead. Don't lead my faith in you astray, and it might stay that way." Her tone was set semi-jokingly, but it felt implied that there was something a little more there, too.