Personification Life IC IX - [Semi Open]

[Urran]

Tieria looked up. "Oh no." he tried stepping to the side so that the cow would just miss him. He suspected cultists, why else would there by Nazi's around? He suddenly didn't care that he was soaked anymore, he just REALLY didn't want to get hit by that cow.

[Giovenith]

Giovenith was caught off-guard by the miniature typhoon of milk soaking the room, attempting to quickly jump atop the counter lest she have to deal with the discomfort of the wetness soaking into her shoes and toes. Yes, true, many people in history would have been joyous for such an occurrence, milk was good for you after all. But-

Oh dear. The godling covered her face so as not to see the inevitable crush of Tieria.

[The BranRiech]

"I wasn't here for that." Drova sighed, reduced to sitting on the floor, facing the wall, contemplating what he'd done. Gah! It was eating away at him. He assumed that Octavian didn't care about this, but for Drova, it was the ultimate humiliation! "It's just . . . I'd never do that. My parents would kill me over something like that."

He was overreacting of course. His parents probably wouldn't give a shit about it either way. Right now though, he thought it was the end of the world, even though no one besides them knew about it.

He felt like he couldn't even face his friend anymore. "I-I will agree that it was comfy, but . . ."

--

"Ah, I'll do it then." Yuna bowed her head. With her luck, Will was probably right outside the door, listening in on them, but hey, what harm would a map do? "So why aren't you allowed in here, if you're all just cultists?" She asked.

After finishing with a page of notes on Chaos that she'd learned, she started by making a little doodle of her room on one of the fresh pages in her new book. "Might as well start someplace."

--

"Smaller wires should do it, and these are the controls? Well, Rachelle's in charge of those. I'll help her pick them out, but she can go and check them out first. I'll see how she does." Bran smiled, patting his daughter on the head, reminding himself of the days when he was learning these same things, being taught in the exact same way that he was teaching her, although Bran, of course, needed to be more fatherly than the impersonal trainers that he dealt with.

Rachelle smiled, flicked her gaze over the various crates, and walked off with purpose to start investigating them.

--

Well, Toscha fist didn't expect that Tieria would go screaming and running around the room, but he looked away before the flood-tide of milk was released onto the room. Only when he felt something wet, and cold sloshing up to his tail, then he looked up and frowned. This was just great. Now he was wet (Although lacking the need to wear clothes on the lower body made laundry convenient and easy), he would need to go and wash himself off before the bad odor of milk left out too long started to set in.

"Uh, who dumped all the milk out here?!" He shouted to the room, not in an angry tone, even if he was a bit miffed at the fact. "I'm not cleaning it." He muttered next, under his breath this time.

And now there was a cow . . . What the hell was wrong with this place?! He'd heard rumors around, but did he believe them? He probably should have, but hey, they were true.

[Cerillium]

Tieria looked up. "Oh no." he tried stepping to the side so that the cow would just miss him. He suspected cultists, why else would there by Nazi's around? He suddenly didn't care that he was soaked anymore, he just REALLY didn't want to get hit by that cow.

The cow broke through the ceiling barrier, shifted to the side in mid air and landed on Tieria's head with a resounding SQUEEK! It harmlessly bounced off.

The distraction (that's actually what it was) allowed the cultists to depart without any hostilities while Tieria was looking up. They held nothing against him. It was their nature to respond in odd ways.

[Urran]

Tieria let an a small "oof" as the cow bounced off of his head. He picked it up after stashing his weapon and smiled, and the smile grew and he started chuckling, and then he started laughing. Tieria, laughing!?! This caused a passing Anew to do a double take. She had never even seen him smile! She scurried along, afraid that he might of gone mad. He hadn't though, he laughed harder than he ever had in his life (about the average persons "normal" laugh after hearing a good joke, not exactly side splitting). He decided to keep the cow and he took it with him as he walked to his apartment to go change. One thing was certain, he was investing in a personal coffee maker.

[Cerillium]

"Ah, I'll do it then." Yuna bowed her head. With her luck, Will was probably right outside the door, listening in on them, but hey, what harm would a map do? "So why aren't you allowed in here, if you're all just cultists?" She asked.

After finishing with a page of notes on Chaos that she'd learned, she started by making a little doodle of her room on one of the fresh pages in her new book. "Might as well start someplace."

--

"Smaller wires should do it, and these are the controls? Well, Rachelle's in charge of those. I'll help her pick them out, but she can go and check them out first. I'll see how she does." Bran smiled, patting his daughter on the head, reminding himself of the days when he was learning these same things, being taught in the exact same way that he was teaching her, although Bran, of course, needed to be more fatherly than the impersonal trainers that he dealt with.

Rachelle smiled, flicked her gaze over the various crates, and walked off with purpose to start investigating them.

John stretched out at the foot of the bed.

"Chaos has factions," he murmured. His exhaustion was coming back. He'd hide in the bathroom soon to avoid detection.

His head turned to look at her. "I'm War's faction. Will is Perfection's. Our groups are normally enemies but we've been working together in Bielefeld. It's one thing to work with the enemy; it's another to sneak into a stronghold. We're not allowed here. They're not allowed in ours. We just don't appreciate the cocaine. Worthless. It needs to be destroyed."

---

Marcus stepped back to give them time to look through everything. He hummed to himself and noted that the snow was beginning to vanish from the ground.

[Giovenith]

The squeak and (disturbingly uncommon) laughter of Tieria lured Giovenith out from her blocked gaze, to take in the harmless joke. Oh of course, it had only been a toy... how silly! It sure was. What wasn't silly was all this milk everywhere, though. It was everywhere! How on earth would she navigate it?

Giovenith pulled her legs atop the counter and tucked her knees beneath her chin, perching on her spot like some small, demure sprite. It wasn't getting messy she avoided, just the icky squishy feeling between her toes that soaking her sneakers in liquid would cause. It was most unpleasant! She could simply take off her shoes and legwarmers, but there was also the matter of her tights, which she didn't take kindly to getting soaked either, but wasn't about to peal off here in a public space. However, it was just the tights... perhaps she could sacrifice that for the sake of saving her more thick and absorbent feet and leg-gear.

Decision made, then! Giovenith crossed her legs and began to untie her sneakers. "Lo, a sea of white ahead awaits! How appropriate for the season in so many ways."

[Tiltjuice]

(Per previous OOC, TG discussion among Torsi, Cer, and myself about not needing to RP out getting paperwork done)

"Alright then!", Katya said in a voice that was simply full of cheer. She quickly scurried out to the apartment, and twirled around to see Dora coming out. She was so ready to get this done with, and become a new, nineteen year-old entrepreneur. The possibilities were already starting to flow in her mind.

Having braved the ice on the sidewalks and roads both ways, Dora helped Katya out of the cab and paid with one of Luce's spare gemstone slivers, then spun her around in a circle right there.

"Well, congratulations, partner," she drawled, eyes shining like polished silverware. "Shall we go to Chaos for a celebratory brunch?"

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"Well....Thanks for the compliments, and the tips I guess. I never actually thought about your hair shedding. I don't think I've ever really noticed. It's either because I haven't been looking, or Blossom just does a good job of cleaning up. Or maybe I'm just getting dull with age," Ray said, beginning to mimic the voice of an old man towards the end. "I've lived to the old age of 27, and I've seen Heaven!" He mimicked a walker and cane for the last part.

"But seriously, you can count on me not dieing today. I'll be fine on that end: I'll try and bring some kind of armament with me, but I can't guarantee it'll do well against horses....Although you're making me a little more nervous about working with the raptors."

Ray finished fixing his tie and patted his clothes down, and soon exited the room. He departed Albert with a wave, and a final saying: "Why should I have to remind you to eat? It's your own fault you won't go to the milk bowl, Kitty". He headed down to the armory to load up for the day. Once inside, he unbuckled his belt and placed on a hip holster along his right side, as well as a dual-magazine pouch on his left side. His loaded Operator went in the holster, and two single-stack magazines went into the combined pouch.

Once complete, he exited out of the armory and went over towards the door out of the three tails. Ray decided that he'd skip breakfast for the time being, and grabbed his grey overcoat and fedora: exiting the apartment and heading on down to the garage soon afterwards.
---
@NVE
A little more than a dozen minutes later, Ray arrived in his Eiswolf outside of the address to the factory that Arthur had told him to inspect. He awaited outside of the building, having parked along the side of the road, and decided to take a peak at both the building's outward appearance and at the information inside of the given folder.

The building was white and clean, sleek six story complex with the words "Eldritch Medical" in giant blue plastic letters affixed to the side. A far cry from what could be expected of the Raptors usual gritty patched together style. Only two cars sat outside along the curb, a worn brown sedan, and a red Volkswagen bug with the paint peeling away. Along the roof a murder of mechanical crows sat, similar to the ones back at the Von Eldritch house. Their red eyes watching, observing, recording for their unknown masters.

In the file it recorded only two employees on site (Doris Perry the receptionist and Dr. Richard Cutter the on-site surgeon), both completely human. The file also contained a schedule of tours of the factory intended for investors (one of which started in ten minutes), and a decrypted layout of the place. The blueprint was vague with only details of the surface level, it seemed to go down for a mile into the earth but only fifty stories down the info ran out, and crude handwriting made guesses of what lied deeper. The top floors were labeled as show rooms, clinics, offices and reception areas. However the first ten floors below were labeled "organ manufacturing," the next twenty "cybernetics manufacturing," and the twenty below that was "robotics and equipment manufacturing." Everything below that point was unclear a handwritten note suggested a nuclear reactor somewhere there and another handwritten label suggested that there was "R&D Labs" and "Testing areas." The truth was that Fortu had outsmarted them there by encrypting the layout more securely than they knew. After all he used to be their computer security guy.

The security of the place detailed only mentioned "Nursebots," "Automated Laser and Ballistic Defenses," "Complete Sterilization," "Emergency Incineration Vents," and "Mashy Spike Plates" without actually going into detail as everything about them was either encrypted or missing.

Now for the last part of the file relevant to the current situation. The profile of the recipient of the envelope that had an outdated picture.

Name: Dr. Martin Fortu

Species: Cybernetic Construct (and former Raptor)
Special Abilities (if any): Hacking, Medical Training, MacGyvering, Resistant to Elemental and Environmental Damage, Can survive without air, Immune to toxins and poisons
Weaknesses: Easily intimidated, Pacifistic (w/ the exception of self defence), Paranoid, Vulnerable to Balistic damage and mental attacks
Background: Fortu started off as a clone of Neil's. In his first day of life, he had his head cut off by a neighbor just because he walked by sipping a soda. The next few months were spent hanging from a wall, as just a head until Neil came and got him back. He was given internet access and a life support collar and stuck in Neil's fridge. During that time he learned to hack security systems and secure databases. Eventually, once Neil was taken away to Lunar Max, Fortu had to step up and created his own body that looked human. He became a computer programmer and worked to keep his place in the apartment. Eventually, he broke Gretta out and had to keep her comforted as she worked to reanimate Neil. After that he was hired by Monique to do a freelance hack to destroy a rival corporation. Fortu soon panicked and went to talk to a girl he had a crush on (she turned out to be a Drone that kidnapped him and reduced him to an AI and forced him to work for them). Eventually he was fired from making cyborgs for the Drones because his were too difficult to control, he was dumped back on Earth. He then designed another humanoid body so he wouldn't have to live out his life as an AI. After that he helped Monique hide while in a time of need and soon fell in love with her. Because of his relationship and choice of a humanoid body he is antagonized by a couple of the other clones of Neil (i.e. us). Later he realized that he was skilled at creating cybernetics and decided to focus on that instead of hacking. Fortu has a more well defined moral compass and is determined to stay on the good side and not succumb to insanity (a common affliction among raptor minds).
Additional Notes: Lawfully Good....but close to going crazy. Approach with caution in the least threatening manner possible.

[Germanic Templars]

By that time, Datus already had the toy working. He stared at the device with great interest as he studied it with great care, not really paying much to his surroundings.

--

"Wow sounds kinda harsh don't you think? Of c-" He stopped himself there for the moment. He really didn't want to say anything that might be of offence.

Wren tussled Datus' hair. "Well, I'm to make sure you have plenty of things to occupy your mind, like building things and making things better," she said. "No word on anything important."

She squatted down and looked at the toy. "Hey, not bad. You got it working. It'll follow you around and do some stuff, like scan things and record things. It can project holographic pages for books. Adults use real human skulls."

She nodded her gratitude to the technician and curled up in a chair. Her hands lifted Datus into her lap and the orb followed him. It nudged his cheek and settled into his hands.

"Now we just wait for them to bring Barox back. Should be any time. All they were doing was debriding the bad tissue and replacing the gaping holes with his own newly-grown skin and tissues. Fixed muscles, fixed parts, and some pasty white skin that could use a bit of sunshine. If he wants other stuff fixed, he'll have to do it later and after he's told people want he wants done."

She yawned and nuzzled the the back of Datus' head. "Any time now," she said.

Gurney wheels could be heard coming down the hall.

---

"Of course it's harsh," Ogoti rumbled. He winked at Lucius. "We're not always benevolent. We're not meant to be."

He picked up the dishes and brought them to the kitchen and then returned.

"Well, archangel, I've taken up a lot of your time. I think your companion has called it a night." He gestured to Xanthe asleep on the couch. "Better take that girl home for a proper sleep."

Datus, found himself getting tired as well as he grabbed onto the ball and fell asleep with it in his hands.

--

"Right.. Well it has been nice talking to you and all and I hope to see you in the future." He then looked towards Xanthe, placing an orb over her so that he wouldn't disturb her in her sleep, he and her both vanished back to their room. Xanthe, if she were to wake up, would find herself on her bed. While Lucius would be busy sitting at the table drinking some coffee.

---

Meanwhile back in the communal kitchen. J'aluk's last sight would be of milk before finding himself, don't ask how, half way down the hall with a panicked look on his face.

[The BranRiech]

"Makes sense. Thank you." Yuna said. She figured John's time here was just about up, and that Will could, realistically, be barging in any second to wake her up, and to receive her for the day's training. She made quickly smiled, and waved as she got up and headed to take a bath. She assumed he'd be kind enough not to follow along, but even if he did, Yuna didn't care really. Her body was just that, a body. "I'll be cleaning up for the day, you'll be staying here, I assume?"

--

After a few minutes of inspecting the pieces from the various boxes, Rachelle gave a thumbs-up to her father and Marcus, Branm in turn turned to him and nodded.

"We've decided on homeschooling her, that way, I can teach her all I know, and Rylli can teach the rest." He nodded. "I'm like her tech-ed teacher or something. And it's never boring, watching her take apart a toaster, and then reassemble it. But enough of that, we'll take them. How much?" Bran asked. He was willing to pay, and he started fumbling around for his wallet.

--

Toscha, too, was wandering now, into the hallway where J'aluk stood. It was in part to get home and dry off, and another part to simply get more looks in at the strange creature. He peered over a corner and watched with interest, the rest of him coiled up, out of sight.

[Urran]

Blossom waved at Albert and continued her work. The air was filled with the sickening smell of eggs. Ugh! She was glad she drank blood, she wouldn't have to deal with any of that crud. Although, she did have to cook stuff like that for the young masters. She didn't mind terribly but she usually couldn't stand the smell of human food.

[The BranRiech]

Aleki, who was up rather early, was sitting on the couch with a bowl of oatmeal and coffee on the table in front of him. He was watching TV, well news most importantly. He was dressed in rather casual clothing for once. Shorts, t-shirt and socks, with a small cloth bandage wrapped around his left thigh.

After the sounds of the shower shutting off, Natiya came walking through with a towel wrapped around her. She already figured Aleki was up, thanks to the lack of warmth next to her when she woke that morning, but now, she was ready to spend the day with him.

She grinned, and went to get changed, emerging minutes later in her mother's blue dress.

"Hey, babe."

The girl sat down next to him.

[Swith Witherward]

"Thank you. And yes, I am. Margret Thriller, and might I ask who are you?"

Charumati sat across from Margret. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Charumati Thriller, Cornelius' wife. Please call me Swith."

She made a mental note to talk to Thriller regarding this whole name swapping identity thing. Her paperwork on Gliese said "McCoy" in an effort to protect his autonomy but her Bielefeld driver's license said "Thriller". She inwardly sighed. She refused to throw a funeral for him until she was certain he couldn't be revived, but what in the hell would the tombstone say?

Here lies the Templar's great pillar
Our most beloved Emperor Thriller.
He went by McCoy
As part of the ploy,
But now he's just worm food and filler.

So much for Immortality!

A playful grin crept unbidden onto her face and she turned her attention back to Margret.

MEANWHILE...

Xanthe didn't stir for a while. She'd caught most of the conversation between Ogoti and Lucius but her exhaustion had kept her sedate. The last few weeks hadn't been easy, especially at every waking moment seemed to center on trying to catch various cultists as they carted Blythe around. She doubted they would have given up their game if not for rumors of Bane.

Bane! His face lurked in her twilight-dream, the leering smile to mock her and the ravenous claws stretching across the dark to consume her being.

She sat upright in bed, barely suppressing a scream. Her hand went to her chest and she pressed hard in a vain attempt to slow her heart.

"Oh my gosh, Bane," she whimpered.

Volturius had spent the majority of the past night at the bar in Chaos, consuming what would have been a mighty check were it not that his credit was backed by the word of god itself, or rather, a deity. While Slaanesh was his patron deity and hi master, obviously it and the rest of the Chaos gods were not the singular deities in the universe. There were a plethora of them in the Immaterium firstly, albeit their significance near nonexistent compared to that of Chaos. The days of the Eldar were long past, their pantheon extinct and devoured by Slaanesh- their souls now the property or the thirsting god. Only a few remained of their pantheon to Volturius' knowledge, only their powers weaker than the four, or even a Greater Daemon. Khaine has withered into a pathetic avatar often unceremoniously butchered by loyalist Astartes. The other was the Laughing God- the patron deity of the Harlequin warriors forced into exile in the Webway by Chaos. There also was the Ork deities, Gork and Mork, although their actual existence as a full-fledged deity was debatable, although it did provide a useful excuse to commanders of why your forces lost to green-skins.

Thankfully, the other gods didn't seem to have much influence over Terra at this age. While the Eldar gods were alive at this time, their notice was likely directed elsewhere to the current Eldar empire that held dominion on some corner of the Milky Way in this era. And while Orks certainly did exist, they were far to embroiled in their petty conflicts to even take notice of Terra, and thus were of little concern to Volturius. No threat of an Ork WAAAGH!, no poncy arrogant Eldar, and no Tyranid Hive Fleets. Merely the current human empires on Terra and possibly scattered elsewhere. The planet itself was also rather hospitable from a dissapointing lack of aggressive predators, or at least Volturius had deduced such while hunting in the late night. Legends and epics of ancient Terra had taught the Astartes in his youth that Terra was an almost magical location that was abound with fantastic life-forms such as dragons or manticores. Unfortunately, there seemed to be an utter lack of such dangerous predatory life, considering the miserable game the deer had provided. The dumb beast never once looked up to see the predatory winged post-human above it, and for such a mistake, paid with its life. Next time, Volturius figured he might as well attack the animal from the front to at least give it some capability of providing sport.


Still, he'd venison out of the corpse later, which made up for the deer's pathetic game. Although he might have someone else cook it unless Tipper didn't do something frightening with it. There never was much of a need for him to learn cooking skills when an Astartes could theoretically extract nutrition from concrete, let alone raw meat. This train of thought however was completely derailed when Volturius opened the door to the apartment, and saw a steed of Slaanesh taking up his side of the bed. Wondering where exactly she managed to find such a creature (and how), Volturius let the deer corpse on his back slide off and hit the floor with a dull thud. The corpse's tongue rolled out on hitting the floor with its jaw agape, a side affect of the brain ceasing function and the tendons relaxing in its body. This didn't change how appropriate the expression was.

Eyelids opened to reveal vibrant blue eyes but the steed didn't lift his head from Tipper's warm side. A bubblegum pink tongue as long as the steed's head serpentined from the snout to wag in the air before retreating again with a wet smack. Satisfied that the Astartes occupying the doorway was the same as slept in the bed, the steed abandoned his protective duties. Clawed feet carried him from mattress to ground so gently that Tipper didn't stir.

"Weedle," he warbled softly, as if the sound could explain the entire situation. He approached Volturius in a manner that revealed his familiarity with the more chaotic Astartes in the universe. If it came to an actual fight, the Raptor would win but the Steed would get a few good licks in before his own demise.

Yep, that's right, I'm a Steed. You're a kitbash of some awesome Blessings, but check me out. I'm born from Chaos, baby! Vroo stretched upwards to better see Volturius' face. His eyes conveyed a sense of sapience and were highly expressive in nature. We're on the same team, so don't you swat at me or I'll coat you in caustic piss.

The only thing Volturius would hear, however, was "Vrooooo."

He bowed to sniff at the Raptor's odd feet and then craned his neck to touch snout tip to wingtip. Volturius' appearance was fascinating. His eyes fastened upon the nearby carcass and a sigh escaped him. There wasn't a gods damned thing to hunt on the Outside. At least, nothing worthy of chase. Slow, stupid animals occupied all of nature. It didn't matter if it was deer or squirrel... the challenge was completely absent. Vroo's demeanor perked up as he realized he wasn't the only one suffering this inglorious existence.

"Vroo." He righted himself and bobbed his long head at the Raptor. Yeah, sucks to be us.

"Volturius?" a rather sleepy Tipper lifted her head and squinted at the pair.

She pushed herself upright and drew her knees towards her. "I'm sorry I got mad earlier. Please forgive me." Her arms folded across her kneecaps and she rested her chin on them, a physically fragile being in a large room filled with deadly things.

[Urran]

Yoshi had been typing for many hours now. He had written a total of three chapters of his novel, as well as his latest article for the column he wrote for The Urran Post, called, "Myths and gods of the world." He had also turned his interview with Giovenith, and his time with Pearlelei into a bit of an essay, for personal reasons of course. The poor boy had not slept much for the past few days and he had unwittingly sent his editor the wrong paper! He had promised Gio he would not reveal her in his writings for the paper, unfortunately, in his state of delirium, he had selected the wrong file and sent his writings on Gio to the paper. He had no idea he had made the mistake and was sleeping soundly. His head was laid on his folded arms and his now closed laptop lay next to him on the kotatsu. He didn't know that crap could be hitting the fan very soon.

The religion of Pearleleism, headed by the goddess Pearlelei, is a curious religion. It's followers believe that their spirits are actually recycles back into objects and matter as well as the energy of the universe. However, many do not realize that the benevolent goddess actually has several daughters.
Giovenith, second daughter to Pealelei, is a curious character. Barely sixteen years of age, the tiny godling possesses wisdom beyond her years. While she may be a bit naive, a trait that should disappear with age, her bravery is inspiring. From what I understand, she is to be the goddess of Rewards and Victory. However, I believe that she deserves to be the goddess of Beauty and Grace. Or perhaps art because she possesses a fondness for the subject as well as great skill.
(Note to self, do not write in a when tired) Her very short history makes we wonder where the logic in the world has gone. Pealelei apparently has the ability to reproduce asexually and Giovenith has no father. She seems to think this as quite normal and does not seem to desire a father figure in her life. From what I understand she was raised by cats at some point during her life before being found by gods from another Pantheon.
The godling looks up to her mother and shares her mother's basic beliefs. Like her mother she is caring and kind, and sometimes behaves more human that immortal. She does not yet possess the powers of other gods or godesses, however, I am sure that that will change with time. Soon, she will develop into a powerful, yet (thankfully) benevolent force.

-Yoshio Tokei

Unfortunately for poor Yoshi, his editor love it. This coming Saturday, it would find itself in the paper, and many Pealeleists will be very pissed at a certain Urranese writer.

[Swith Witherward]

"Makes sense. Thank you." Yuna said. She figured John's time here was just about up, and that Will could, realistically, be barging in any second to wake her up, and to receive her for the day's training. She made quickly smiled, and waved as she got up and headed to take a bath. She assumed he'd be kind enough not to follow along, but even if he did, Yuna didn't care really. Her body was just that, a body. "I'll be cleaning up for the day, you'll be staying here, I assume?"

"Rise and shine!"

Yuna's door banged against the wall and Will stepped into the room. (John had wisely chosen to fall into his own shadow before being spotted.)

"Today's the stables! So up you get, and throw that uniform on. It's another fine day in Chaos!"

Mate? Here?

He sized Dia up, instantly hating everything about him yet keeping his expression as passive as possible. The white knuckles and raised tendons in his right hand gave away a bit of his animosity as he clutched his beer glass. Then blood returned and the color was restored. He let go and accepted his fate.

"Seems nice," he conceded.

The hostile feelings towards Dia drifted away as resignation swept over him. He found himself unable to look at Chrys. He knew she had someone. She'd said as much before. He hadn't expected the other Conservator to turn up, however. The restaurant lost its allure. The only beautiful thing in it was the woman in front of him. Now he was surrounded by the smells of food and the sound of innocent conversations. Human things. Mortal things. Things that people like Dia probably took for granted.

He attempted to sip his beer but it had grown stale. What the fuck was I thinking? She's not interested in me. Obviously.

"I'm sure he makes you very happy. He's a very lucky man," Hans set his glass down and rose. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to..."

...To what? Duty? Rounds? Some asinine lie to get me out the door?

"... leave. It's better this way. Keep it professional," he found himself stating quietly.

In for an ounce, in for a pound. Hans made eye contact with Chrys. "I'm very fond of you, you see, not that I expect the feeling to be mutual," he admitted unashamedly. "You reminded me to live again. I'm grateful for that. My heart is breaking, though, because I was stupid and allowed myself to fall in love with you. Don't worry. I'll get over it and it'll have no bearing on our business interactions. Daemons purge emotions well, and mine is no exception. Good day, and be careful when you leave. Looks like the sidewalk's slippery."

He pulled a few Euros from his pocket and set them under his glass for the waitress.

Chrys flinched slightly, saying nothing at first. The decades of confinement (since the end of the Second World War) had gotten her too comfortable and too complacent, as she'd had only fellow Conservators for company. People she knew. People who knew her. People who were bound by a common faith.

Faith. That was all she had to fall back on at the moment, this idea that everything fell apart eventually, and that facing that reality with dignity and grace was all that mattered. She'd been blind; of course he'd been attracted to her. Singing for her wasn't an idle act done by a casual acquaintance or even a friend. A sharp throb of pain arced up and found purchase under her jaw. Faith wasn't helping her very much at the moment. Because of the awareness that Hans - being no Conservator - had no such belief. Because of the awareness that despite all her years, she had nowhere near the emotional restraint that so many of her Siblings did. Because of the awareness that despite that fact, she had to keep composed for Hans' sake. Because of the awareness that she had to bear this alone.

What do I do?

Slowly, hesitantly, as one who wasn't sure if she was doing right, she reached out and took his hand, squeezing it lightly. Why, she knew not. Comfort? Reassurance? Gratitude? All of those might have been in her eyes as she looked at him. She didn't know.

Hans glanced down as Chrys slipped her hand into his and squeezed. The gesture confused him immensely. He was so out of touch with other beings, and so out of practice at reading any emotions other than anger and rage.

What does this mean? He searched his mind and found no answers and so he searched her face instead. A younger Hans might have griped about unclear signals sent by women. It was an older cultists in front of her, though. Out of touch, out of his element, and feeling sincerely stupid, he lightly squeezed back.

So is this a brush off or an invitation or neither?

He should have walked away. That would have been the wisest and simplest thing to do. He even considered a quaint diversion, maybe a bucket of confetti exploding from the mirror behind the bar to draw Chry's eyes away from him. The latter wouldn't happen. The buoyant emotions necessary to pull off such a silly maneuver weren't there. He should have walked away but his feet didn't want to comply.

"I don't understand," he whispered. "I'm not like your mate and the rest of the world. I don't understand what you're trying to tell me."

In for a pound, in for a ton. The tiny fissures in his heart widened and small pieces broke off and now cramped his stomach. He was, at heart, grateful that she hadn't given him short shrift. The confusion and pain would be gone immediately after the purge. For now, he'd suck it up in an effort to gain clarity.

"This is the part where you're supposed to say something about how sweet I am, but no thank you because I'm not your type. Are you saying that? I... can't tell."

[The BranRiech]

"Rise and shine!"

Yuna's door banged against the wall and Will stepped into the room. (John had wisely chosen to fall into his own shadow before being spotted.)

"Today's the stables! So up you get, and throw that uniform on. It's another fine day in Chaos!"

"Coming!" Yuna shouted back, catching what felt like a minor headache from the noise, but her own voice was hardly one she didn't like to hear. She rushed through the last few phases of her bathing schedule, and, with still wet hair, quickly slipped into her undergarments, moving onto the uniform next. Just a change of clothes for her, she was used to a rigid morning schedule, at least until she got her things done, then there was recreation, friends, and food.

"Breakfast first?"

She smiled and grabbed her new notebook off the bed where she'd left it, her room already mapped out on at least one page, and then the other knowledge she gained from John, and finally, a few little notes that she learned from Will the previous day.

[Swith Witherward]

"Coming!" Yuna shouted back, catching what felt like a minor headache from the noise, but her own voice was hardly one she didn't like to hear. She rushed through the last few phases of her bathing schedule, and, with still wet hair, quickly slipped into her undergarments, moving onto the uniform next. Just a change of clothes for her, she was used to a rigid morning schedule, at least until she got her things done, then there was recreation, friends, and food.

"Breakfast first?"

She smiled and grabbed her new notebook off the bed where she'd left it, her room already mapped out on at least one page, and then the other knowledge she gained from John, and finally, a few little notes that she learned from Will the previous day.

"Eh, what?" Will was still feeling the joy from the previous night and his mind wasn't exactly on something as simple as breakfast.

He looked at the tired faces of his fellow cultists as they nursed their hangover or (for many) were still buzzing hard as they sat in the common room. There were a few breakfast things, mostly toast, some hard-boiled eggs, and orange juice. There were pitchers of water. Whoever normally prepared the meals was obviously not up to speed.

Inspiration struck Will.

"Yuna, can you cook?"

[The BranRiech]

"Eh, what?" Will was still feeling the joy from the previous night and his mind wasn't exactly on something as simple as breakfast.

He looked at the tired faces of his fellow cultists as they nursed their hangover or (for many) were still buzzing hard as they sat in the common room. There were a few breakfast things, mostly toast, some hard-boiled eggs, and orange juice. There were pitchers of water. Whoever normally prepared the meals was obviously not up to speed.

Inspiration struck Will.

"Yuna, can you cook?"

"Meh."

That was all Yuna replied with. For all her smarts, she was still somewhat featherbrained. Breakfast seemed like an impossible challenge, while she could craft several types of potions with her eyes closed. Food was never her strong suit, but on occasion, she'd been known to make some well-done dishes, but human food? Let's just say it was even more impossible-seeming than regular breakfast.

"I-I can try, if you'll help. I mean, I never wanted to be a cook, and never learned how to."

[Swith Witherward]

"Meh."

That was all Yuna replied with. For all her smarts, she was still somewhat featherbrained. Breakfast seemed like an impossible challenge, while she could craft several types of potions with her eyes closed. Food was never her strong suit, but on occasion, she'd been known to make some well-done dishes, but human food? Let's just say it was even more impossible-seeming than regular breakfast.

"I-I can try, if you'll help. I mean, I never wanted to be a cook, and never learned how to."

"Cooking is chemistry," Will replied and brought her down another hallway and to the kitchen.

Polished stainless steel greeted Yuna's eyes. Everything was spotless, organized and laid out in a way that allowed a person to be efficient. A fat man in a chef's hat and apron had taken up one entire corner, and he snoozed in a straight back chair. There were no other workers.

Will tossed an apron to Yuna and slipped one on for himself.

"Right," he smiled, "Chemistry. You have a formula. You gather the ingredients and follow the directions. That's the easy part. The hard part? Well, that's preparing those things. Remember yesterday I showed you how to prepare some of those herbs? It's the same concept. Now, what do you usually eat for breakfast?"

[Cerillium]

Datus, found himself getting tired as well as he grabbed onto the ball and fell asleep with it in his hands.

--

"Right.. Well it has been nice talking to you and all and I hope to see you in the future." He then looked towards Xanthe, placing an orb over her so that he wouldn't disturb her in her sleep, he and her both vanished back to their room. Xanthe, if she were to wake up, would find herself on her bed. While Lucius would be busy sitting at the table drinking some coffee.

Wren carried Datus from the room once they gurney had arrived. The technician settled Barox in and then gave the nod when it was an appropriate time to return.

Wren transferred Datus to a hip and stood beside the bed. She clasped Barox's hand.

"Don't worry, you'll be home tonight," she whispered.

He'd awaken when he wanted and would find himself free from pain or discomfort. Such was the magic his own company worked.

---

Ogoti saw his visitors out. There were dishes to do and then perhaps he'd give Dora a call to see if she were up for dinner.

---

Elsewhere:

Several cultists came up the stairs with mops and buckets to clean up the milk. Klaus was still in conversation with the viking and paid them little heed.

John bolted into the shadows and had avoided Will's detection. He came out after the door shut and helped himself to a bath and the food in the girl's basket. He'd realised the flaw in his master plan: meals. He dearly hoped she'd think to bring him something for dinner.

[Tiltjuice]

Chrys flinched slightly, saying nothing at first. The decades of confinement (since the end of the Second World War) had gotten her too comfortable and too complacent, as she'd had only fellow Conservators for company. People she knew. People who knew her. People who were bound by a common faith.

Faith. That was all she had to fall back on at the moment, this idea that everything fell apart eventually, and that facing that reality with dignity and grace was all that mattered. She'd been blind; of course he'd been attracted to her. Singing for her wasn't an idle act done by a casual acquaintance or even a friend. A sharp throb of pain arced up and found purchase under her jaw. Faith wasn't helping her very much at the moment. Because of the awareness that Hans - being no Conservator - had no such belief. Because of the awareness that despite all her years, she had nowhere near the emotional restraint that so many of her Siblings did. Because of the awareness that despite that fact, she had to keep composed for Hans' sake. Because of the awareness that she had to bear this alone.

What do I do?

Slowly, hesitantly, as one who wasn't sure if she was doing right, she reached out and took his hand, squeezing it lightly. Why, she knew not. Comfort? Reassurance? Gratitude? All of those might have been in her eyes as she looked at him. She didn't know.

Hans glanced down as Chrys slipped her hand into his and squeezed. The gesture confused him immensely. He was so out of touch with other beings, and so out of practice at reading any emotions other than anger and rage.

What does this mean? He searched his mind and found no answers and so he searched her face instead. A younger Hans might have griped about unclear signals sent by women. It was an older cultists in front of her, though. Out of touch, out of his element, and feeling sincerely stupid, he lightly squeezed back.

So is this a brush off or an invitation or neither?

He should have walked away. That would have been the wisest and simplest thing to do. He even considered a quaint diversion, maybe a bucket of confetti exploding from the mirror behind the bar to draw Chry's eyes away from him. The latter wouldn't happen. The buoyant emotions necessary to pull off such a silly maneuver weren't there. He should have walked away but his feet didn't want to comply.

"I don't understand," he whispered. "I'm not like your mate and the rest of the world. I don't understand what you're trying to tell me."

In for a pound, in for a ton. The tiny fissures in his heart widened and small pieces broke off and now cramped his stomach. He was, at heart, grateful that she hadn't given him short shrift. The confusion and pain would be gone immediately after the purge. For now, he'd suck it up in an effort to gain clarity.

"This is the part where you're supposed to say something about how sweet I am, but no thank you because I'm not your type. Are you saying that? I... can't tell."

"I don't know," she murmured back, yet the bell-like tones were not muted or funereal.

Gentleness and empathy had a painful edge all their own, when it came right down to it. Chrys felt her blood rushing, adrenaline surging; for pain was just another kind of threat to fight or flee from. Physical or emotional. Hans' or her own. Was it more appropriate to fight or flee? This she knew the answer to, ingrained as it was by serried years of experience.

I am born to battle. I have grown up with the clash of steel in my ears.

She took a deep breath, and her eyes snapped back up. A quick glance behind her showed that Dia was still preoccupied with Luce's distractions - now a game of darts.

Who must do the hard things? She who can.

She turned again to Hans.

"Come to the beach across the street with me," Chrys said in a rising, questioning lilt, a hopeful look on her face. "We can talk about this there, away from all the pressure." Away from my mate.

[Giovenith]

Meanwhile, far, far off from Bielefeld, in a location that will remain rather ambiguous because the User is too stupid to make anything up realistically, all we know is that it's pretty far away, the city life of another land buzzed below the eighth-floor apartment window of a teenage girl's bedroom. Fourteen-year-old Kaliarana D'inanith was enjoying her day off from school quite comfortably, surrounded by all the comforts of any safe, well-off land; fashionable furniture, comfy bed, phone, and of course, laptop. The news of the world was at her fingertips, and the only problems she had to deal with was whether or not getting up to get a snack was worth leaving her warm, cozy position.

"Yip! Yip yip!" Kalia's family puppy, Marilyn Monroe (a Pomeranian, which had become quite fashionable ever since the Queen adopted one), barked frantically up at it's owner from the floor, hungry for attention.

"Seyiin, seyiin," Kalia scolded the dog, scooping up the little puffball into her lap, before tapping and clicking away more at the laptop keyboard. Again, she felt hungry. "NANA!" (MOTHER!) she called toward her door in Giovenisque. "MIYAN BOPONPIS?!" (MAY I HAVE COOKIES?!)

"FIFE NON BOPONPIS TIYA YEAT FIL!" (WE DON'T HAVE ANY COOKIES SINCE YOU ATE THEM!)

"TIYA SULANTA MIIF?!" (CAN'T YOU GO BUY SOME?!)

"YEAT CELARO, KALIARANA!" (EAT CELERY, KALIARANA!)

Kalia loathed celery. Decidedly deprived of a tasty snack, the child flopped back against her lavender fuzzy pillow, a cushion the same color as her frizzy hair. How unfair, mom was already up and walking around, why couldn't she just quickly run to the store? Oh well, the spoiled pouting was soon forgotten, as Kalia turned back to the normal activities of a moderately privileged child: Media, media, media! Her favorite female celebrity, a pop singer by the name of Madam Ladison M'donner, had just been swimming at Serphinia Island, looking fabulous as always! Her favorite male celebrity, a recent aspiring young actor introduced as Tansin L'vich, revealed that his favorite Popsicle flavor was lime... so now it was Kalia's too. SWOOOOOOON!

"Yip!" barked Marilyn Monroe, circling and circling around on Kalia's lap, trying to find a more comfortable position herself. The little pooch was apparently having trouble with this though, as she didn't seem to be keen on stopping anytime soon, and as much as Kalia loved the doggy, it was getting annoying. The young teen nudged the dog with her leg to urge it to stop, but only succeeded in making the Pomeranian hop from her former position onto Kalia's laptop keyboard.

"AH!" Kaliarana quickly grabbed Marilyn Monroe and gently tossed the pup off her bed, then inspected her computer to make sure the animal had not accidentally ruined something. Everything with the laptop itself looked fine, but Marilyn Monroe's little paws had accidentally typed in a series of letters that had led Kalia's screen to a very strange site. It had been previously written in a language that was unfamiliar to the teen, and, she decided to click the option Google gave for translation. Kalia spotted the words "Giovenith" and "Pearleleism," her own home country and religion respectively, which drew her into actually reading the site her dog had found.

Kaliarana had stumbled upon Yoshi's article. She read, 'The religion of Pearleleism, headed by the goddess Pearlelei, is a curious religion. It's followers believe that their spirits are actually recycles back into objects and matter as well as the energy of the universe.' Yes, yes, that was true. Kalia, currently, decided she wanted to go where ever it was her grandmama had gone when she passed. 'However, many do not realize that the benevolent goddess actually has several daughters.'

Wait, what?

'Giovenith, second daughter to Pealelei, is a curious character. Barely sixteen years of age, the tiny godling possesses wisdom beyond her years. While she may be a bit naive, a trait that should disappear with age, her bravery is inspiring. From what I understand, she is to be the goddess of Rewards and Victory. However, I believe that she deserves to be the goddess of Beauty and Grace. Or perhaps art because she possesses a fondness for the subject as well as great skill.'

What, what, what, what? Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat? This was absolute news to Kalia. At no point had she ever heard any stories or been taught about the Lady of Eternity having any children, not at Temple, not in her books, not from her family, what was this?

'Her very short history makes we wonder where the logic in the world has gone. Pealelei apparently has the ability to reproduce asexually and Giovenith has no father. She seems to think this as quite normal and does not seem to desire a father figure in her life. From what I understand she was raised by cats at some point during her life before being found by gods from another Pantheon.'

Friggin' hell? Asexual? Raised by cats??? Giovenith was the name of the country in which Kalia and her family resided, so either Kalia was missing a huge piece to whatever it was she was reading, or this author was severely confused. Was this supposed to be some kind of joke? As far as Kalia knew, the only kind of person who would be able to make any sort of new claim about the Lady was a Prophet or Prophetess. She had met a few before, mostly the ones who worked at her Temple, and it had been explained to her many times before that a Prophet rarely saw anything all that 'big picture shaking', because the Lady needed people to do many things on their own. But this, this was a HUGE claim from someone, it flipped everything that she, as a follower, knew and had been taught. So, if Kalia did not know about, and her local Prophets never said anything like it, why was this person saying it now?

Well if she didn't know, then surely the internet must. Kalia quickly saved the url to the article, and surfed back to her favorite social networking site.

[The BranRiech]

"Cooking is chemistry," Will replied and brought her down another hallway and to the kitchen.

Polished stainless steel greeted Yuna's eyes. Everything was spotless, organized and laid out in a way that allowed a person to be efficient. A fat man in a chef's hat and apron had taken up one entire corner, and he snoozed in a straight back chair. There were no other workers.

Will tossed an apron to Yuna and slipped one on for himself.

"Right," he smiled, "Chemistry. You have a formula. You gather the ingredients and follow the directions. That's the easy part. The hard part? Well, that's preparing those things. Remember yesterday I showed you how to prepare some of those herbs? It's the same concept. Now, what do you usually eat for breakfast?"

"So I'm training to be the cook, eh?" Yuna rolled her eyes sarcastically as she tied the apron around herself, fighting hard to get it over her wings without discomfort. One strap was particularly difficult though, and she had to take the entire thing off and start again. She finally got it though, and after equating the word "Chemistty" to "Potion-making" She understood perfectly.

"Alright, well, for breakfast, we eat . . . Hmm, a lot of edible fungus, some species of bats that we farm in select areas, and stuff we can grow on the surface, although that's rare." She explained. "I haven't had any of it since I moved out here."

[Torsiedelle]

Katya giggled and skipped a few times around the sidewalk. She was just as excited as her partner.

"Yea, Chaos sounds awesome! I wanna celebrate today, before going to work and sending out all that other work. Say, how about some wine-um.....yea, I can't drink, right.....how about some hot tea?"

....

Torii had yet to leave the gym, but was nearing the exit, when she quickly glanced back at Tasia with a smile. The woman was really nice, she thought. Maybe she could go hang out sometime....