The Western Sea was the kind of place Haut didn't visit often. It's not that there was anything wrong with the sea, but he just didn't have anything to do there. It was just a bunch of water with some horrible creatures inside. But, even this place had its uses.

He approached the sea from the northern banks, having stepped out of his house and taken the shortest path with the least population. With the case he's carrying and his chest in the state it was, Haut didn't really wanna stop and have a chat with Becky about how big the Carrots were getting. Even if they were kind of cute kids. Of course with his mind on the task at hand he's also not exactly checking out the general area or even his trail, both abnormal things for him.

It's because he needed to do this quickly. He just didn't have time. Even using the sea for what he's going to do isn't really what he originally planned, but he'd clean up any issues that came from it later. Now was the time for action, not thinking until the sun went down.

From on high, and by that was meant the wooden bridge crossing over the Lete River from the height of Truce Canyon, a beam of flickering green light swirled through the air and crossed over the length of the river's breadth, zeroing in on Haut's location at not-too-fast-but-not-too-slow a speed, intent on making herself known well-before she actually arrived at where he was setting up. Of course, at any distance, she couldn't actually be made out, physically, but how many green lights did Haut actually know of, in recent years? Actually, maybe that question was better left unanswered.

Tossing the case into the sand first, then throwing his jacket off towards the trees, Haut starts preparing for what's about to go down. The worst part is peeling the shirt off, notably trying to not get blood on his face as he does so. It'd get cleaned off soon, but the only people who ever like having a bloody face are probably vampires, or some shit. Not his bag of tea.

He stares into the sky for a few moments, almost like he's silently appraising the heavens as the next step plays out in his head. Submerge, split the rod, do the job. Then finish up work before Jill's back. So of course, just as he's getting ready: some flickering green light zooms up. Haut identifies it after a few moments as maybe Sylvan, and while unexpected he's not going to cover up the hole in his chest just for her.

Of course, he had enough problems trying to talk to her above water, doing it below would be impossible. With a slightly frustrated grunt, he resolves to wait until the Sprite has had a chance to communicate before he goes on. He'd put in the effort to start this, after all.

Sylvan beams on in like a not-all-that-speeding bullet, and comes to an inertia-rattling stop just a few feet away, hovering in the air for a moment as the expression on her face starts out as something like excitement, but then immediately looks extremely horrifed at... whatever she's seeing, that Haut's done to himself. She kind of bobs around in the air in a sort of panicked state, pointing in alarm at what she assumes is a life-threatening injury that maybe he, himself, doesn't actually know about yet.

"Sylvan, wasn't really expecting to see you again so soon." If anything he shows more interest in the appearance of the Sprite proper than the fact that he's got a fist sized flap of skin cut and hanging from his torso. It's almost a secondhand thought for him that she might actually be showing some form of worry about his condition, evidenced by his eyebrow raising. "Hey, it's cool. This isn't even the dangerous part yet."

Sylvan doesn't look any less worried about it despite Haut's indication of his own (relative) safety, and turns a ways to look back up toward the bridge, as if possible for the reason why she looks as flustered about it as she does.

And sure enough, that possible other reason is apparently making his way down the east end of the bridge at the moment, turning onto the sloping trail that leads down the eastern bank of Truce Canyon, not really aware of where he is or where he's going, but following what can be assumed was Sylvan's trail, all the same. He doesn't see either of them from his distance, though, but it's probably because he's focusing on watching his footing more than anything else.

Haut's eye follows Sylvan's sight, and he lets out a sigh at what he finds. "Alright, yeah. That makes sense. I'm assuming your boy isn't exactly afraid of a little mess though." Haut eases himself back to sit on the case, reaching up to rub the back of his neck while he waits. This guy showing back up was probably related to the talk earlier, so yeah this was all Haut's fault in the first place. That kinda removed his ability to complain about it. Even if he didn't have Mero around this time to vouch for him.

"Guess that jewel was actually something important then."

The little tree-maiden turns back around at Haut and his mumbling, waving a little arm at him as if to imply that everything will be fine, at least given that her expression has calmed a bit.

Jules continues making his way down the slope, and at some point, looks up to see Haut's lone figure on the bank a short distance ahead, tensing up a bit until he also notices Sylvan's tiny form floating nearby, which applies a bit of relief to the previous hesitation. Nevertheless, he continues on down, glancing off maybe once or twice at the flowing river on his west side as he eventually reaches the edge of the bank.

"Well well, it's look who it is." Haut cocks his head over to the side, watching Jules on his way down to the beach with a sort of detached interest. "I'm gonna spare the snarky comments and making fun of you, since I'm kinda in the middle of something. Sylvan talked to you, and you can actually understand what she's saying."

He sits up, making no attempt to cover the wound in his chest nor what lay beneath. "So, talk." Haut doesn't mean to treat the guy like some kind of glorified translator, but it's not really like he's done much different to show himself as otherwise.

Jules' first response on getting close enough is, understandably, to be pretty put out by the blatant wound in Haut's chest that should, by all account, be at least verging on lethal. But, since it doesn't seem to be, given that Haut was just.. talking to him, without seeming worried about his mortality, he makes a decent (but not entire) effort to put the thought aside. Despite this, though, he doesn't seem really thrilled by Haut's tone, but that could also be at least a small vestige of his own pride kicking in. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time for that later," is actually his first verbal response, but then again, Jules does look a little rough around the edges. Possibly in need of sleep, or other things. He glances around for a place to actually sit, maybe, but then just decides to stay standing. "I guess I'll just cut right to the chase, then." He withdraws the pearl from his side-satchel, holding it up in plain sight. "Where did you get this from?"

The spirit bobs around in the air between the two of them, the jewel catching her big green eyes for a moment, but she seems to merely be an observer. At the moment.

"Carved it out of a shadow clone of myself that came out of my girlfriend after she got attacked by some kind of mysterious pulse of energy that felt like Ambience." Haut pats one of his pants pockets and pulls out a pen knife as he flatly delivers that string of dialogue.

"Y'know, like normal." He works on cleaning some blood and fat out from under his nails before looking up to Jules.

Jules... looks at Sylvan, as if asking for clarification of some of what was just said to him.

Unfortunately, the best Sylvan can offer is a tiny little shrug and a small wave at nothing, gesturing in a silent way.

He sighs, glancing down at the pearl in his hand, before stowing it back in his satchel. "So I wasn't wrong when I told Alyss there was something bigger going on," he said, almost more a mumble than a statement. He refocuses, then, looking back at Haut. "Was that the only one you've found, so far? Or do you have more?"

After some schmutz has built up on his blade, Haut flicks it off before looking back up to Jules. The urge to lay into him was overwhelming, for some reason he couldn't place his finger on. "No. Another got ejected, with her mana signature trapped in it. She acted like I had beat her violently until I managed to figure that little part out, and then some kind of, ghost her came out of the jewel and phased into her." His tone says 'you can see why this might not be my favorite thing to talk about.'

"Are you a member of the Tribe?" The question was maybe part of him clipping back. Just getting one sided interrogated like this annoyed him.

Jules again looks at Sylvan, almost as if he was asking permission to speak freely of it.

The spirit actually floats over to him and makes to pat him on the cheek, except that her little wooden arm phase just-slightly through the side of his face in doing so.

He gives a breathy sigh, but nods. "I am, yes," he said. "I'm supposed to be looking for the one that this jewel is giving off the same Mana Signature for. Probably going on a little over a year, at this point." He pauses, not sure how much he not only wants to say, but is at liberty to say. "I don't believe he is actually here, though. I know what happened with the Mana Fortress and the Sinistrals, but not what the aftermath entailed. Certain people believe he is still alive, but all of my efforts have proven otherwise, so far. And the fact that none of the mana spirits can detect his Mana Signature means that he is, at the very least, not within this Realm."

"And when this showed up..." he taps his satchel, "all of a sudden that prospect was turned on its ear."

"None of the mana spirits can detect his mana signature. Except for that jewel." Haut levels a look at Jules, trying to gauge him for a few moments. "Look, I don't know if you got it like I did, but grabbing that thing? It makes you feel different. Like a rush of emotions screaming through you." Haut closes the knife, thinking now that he's got a few puzzle pieces snapped into place.

"Maybe the kid doesn't feel like the kid because he's scattered. Broken up." Idly, Haut scratches his chin while theorizing. "Latching on to people who were important to him while he was alive, manifesting within them but only able to fit parts of himself. Which in turn knocks out the equivalent part of the person he attaches to."

With a shrug, Haut stands up. "Or, a Sinistral is using that same connection to attack the people he knew so anyone related to bringing them down suffers or is dead. Spin the wheel, see what the answer is." He pauses for a moment, looking over the both of them "You mana folks, does radiation fuck you up?"

Jules shakes his head. "I don't feel anything while holding it," he affirms. "It just feels like a regular gem to me, just one that gives off a faint Mana Signature. But, also..." He casts an aside glance at Sylvan. "That's not outside of the normal, either, and might not mean anything. If one person lingers in a place long enough, or has a firm enough attachment to something, it can leave traces of their Mana Signature on that object or person. But that also doesn't explain a few other things, either." He sighs once more. "I know far less than you do because I haven't encountered any of these 'shadows' you spoke of, and with the exception of certain individuals who give off an extremely-broad-scale Mana Signature, like the one I'm searching for, we have to be within a certain range to pick up their Mana Signature. Typically, within visual sight, give or take." He gives a pause at the last comment, not really sure where Haut was going with that. "We're mortal like anyone else in the Middle Realm. We can suffer in the same way, by the same means, as anyone else, with some minor exceptions."

"Tch." It was so, so very hard to not latch onto that 'I know far less than you' line. More than that though, the guy's weasel word explanation meant he wasn't going to be okay with suddenly eating a bunch of radiation. "Right, so. It's like I said. At least before Sylvan took it, that thing felt like raw courage getting shoved into my head." Bending over and grabbing the case, Haut looks at the pair.

"So. You got the jewel. You have some idea that he's here, in some form. Me and Jill are going to go find him. Is this turning into you wanting to be the third wheel? Or are you gonna do your own thing?"

Sylvan suddenly looks hesitant, putting her hands together as if she were afraid of what was going to happen next; she floats alongside Jules, otherwise, about a foot away.

Jules, too, doesn't look too sure of anything. He had several different things he wanted to say, and had to think carefully to try and determine which one was the least antagonistic. Sylvan had put in this effort for his sake, after all. "I don't know hardly anything about the Middle Realm," he said. "Assistance would be nice, but it almost sounds like you have a plan already, and I don't want to be a liability. I will continue searching for him, as well, if only because I have no choice, at this point. The--" he stops, catching himself, and deciding better of it. "I still have other obligations, at the very least. I am willing to help out and share information as needed, if you would like, but I get very distinct impressions that you're not fond of me or, at the very least, my kind." His words carry a certain implication, but he leaves the thought hanging there without expounding on it further.

"I think the way you handle things is fucked up." Haut is as blunt as a sledgehammer to the knee. "But Jill is with me, so I can't really pretend like all of you are horrible people. Besides, it's mostly Aura I don't like." He sighs, cracking his neck again before fixing Jules with a tired look.

"I don't want to have to do any of this. But I'm going to, because it needs to be done, and I need to make sure it's done right. If you wanna follow along, then go ahead. If you're a liability, I'll leave you behind. If we need to trade info?" He points at Sylvan. "We've got spirits that can help with that. Of course, some of those choices depend entirely on what Jill says, because if she says you're out, you're out."

He wasn't going to piss off Jill by having the Mana Tribe equivalent of a babysitter around. But, maybe she would enjoy him being there? Haut sighs, it's fuckin' hard to tell. "Go find your girlfriend and talk it out or something, you shouldn't be letting this shit get in the way of you enjoying life." Under his breath, Haut mutters something before fixing Jules with that grey eye once more. "Meet up tomorrow at my house, or you're going to have to find us on the trail. Anything else, Mr. No name?"

Jules' eyes can be seen processing everything that Haut's said to him, and the silence is probably a little bit frustrating in the meantime. No small variety of different emotions appear to be flickering off and on behind those blue eyes of his. Eventually, he reaches a decision, and it is said with a frown, but a steadfast tone nonetheless. "'Jules'," he said. "And that's probably all that needs to be said further, I think. If your rhetoric at the moment is what I should come to expect going forward, I think I will continue to search on my own terms, because there will likely be problems between us, whether either of us want them or not." His tone is not intentionally unmannerly, but more of a staunch matter-of-fact premise. "I appreciate the insight you've given me, and if I find anything else out, I will send Sylvan to contact you or the one you call 'Jill.'" He pauses briefly, as if considering anything else that needs to be said, and when he can't find it, he turns and begins to walk away, back the direction he came.

The dryad looks between Haut and Jules, and slumps a little bit, but accepts it being what it is, and floats on over to Jules as he turns to leave, with a small glance back at Haut along the way.

Haut is, a little annoyed actually. He did try to get the guy to follow along, fuck all that 'rhetoric' shit. "Two squads is better than one anyways." Looking to Sylvan, he shrugs. "Stop by tomorrow, she might have more info than me. But she's busy right now." He doesn't really know what the fuck crawled up Jules' ass but he at least addresses Sylvan with a less harsh tone. That said though, he had work to do, despite what horse-boy thought.

If Jules heard Haut's parting words, he doesn't imply as such, as he simply walks back up the path toward Truce Canyon and takes his leave, with Sylvan in tow.

With the Mana Tribe representatives departed at last, he can get down to business. Stripping down the rest of the way, Haut wades out into the cold water of the Western Sea with the case. His body was frustrating, with some sensations being ignorable and some he simply could not seem to work his mind around.

The stinging burn of saltwater in his chest cavity gets a grimace on his face. It was only going to get worse from there, immediately even so when his eye hit the waterline. This fucking sucked. That thought stays with Haut as he makes his way deeper and deeper, wanting nothing more than to just be done with this shit already. In fact, fuck this entire day, he would have been so much happier just staying at the house for it, putting on a movie and waiting for Jill to get back. Nooo, instead he had to get this shit and talk with some fucking sprite and deal with Mr horse fucker nanny-

His mind was trying to detach from the pain, something he has to forcibly bring his attention over top of. The pain was bad, but this needed to be done. Opening the case finally, the uranium's radiation immediately starts to flood the area. Grabbing the middle of the rod, Haut forces the negative mana that he's grown to use through it, corroding the material and making things much more manageable to work with.

And then the other really shitty part. Reaching into his chest cavity again, Haut grabs at one of his ribs and jerks it. The resulting snap and bloom of pain isn't even lost to the burning ache of seawater, it somehow compounds. He doesn't waste more time thinking about how much this sucks, he was rapidly getting too exhausted to do so. Instead, he raises up one of the rods, and plunges it into his chest.

Above the waves, an eerie blue glow emits from the water for several long moments, before Haut emerges from the waves once more. If he was in a bad mood before, the expression on his face read a need for death and murder now. It only mildly improves after he uses the pen knife from before to cut a slit near the bottom of his belly, letting a rush of saltwater to exit his chest cavity. That wasn't even all of it, but he'd have to work on the rest later.

Sitting cross legged on the beach, Haut pinches his chest wound closed and with a burst of that same negative mana, he closes the wound that had freaked out both Sylvan and Jules. The same is done to the slit he'd just made, both leaving scars behind before Haut starts channeling the magic through his entire body. He was a critic of magic, sure, but it was hard to argue with the efficacy. Especially when he actually feels so good after.

One last test was the Geiger counter he'd kept in his jacket. He was being as careful as possible with all this, given how much of a mess radiation was to deal with. But, the counter rewards him and his judicious use of magical countermeasures. It's hard to feel anything but a grim sort of satisfaction after that kind of pain, but more than anything else he just feels tired.

And there was so much more to do.