Personification Life: EPIC (IC Thread XI) [CLOSED]

[Torsiedelle]

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

On command, Torii looked around to make sure that all was clear, and, after confirmation, jumped up and ran behind Opa. Torii stayed low, her rifle at the ready, watching around the barn. "Want me to try and get a peak inside?", She asked once the robot had dispatched the fiend with the rockets. "I can handle myself, so don't worry."

They were on a mission to save someone from in there. Torii hoped they could save everyone. They would save eveeyone. Why were so many people attacking the place anyways? This VIP had to be valuable indeed.

[New Aksarben]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

"Fucking hell, if I brought this on these monsters by my presence here I will never forgive myself." A slightly roboticized voice, with a slight Finnish accent, mumbled as he ducked behind cover up in the sentry tower, occasionally taking pot shots up and over the makeshift cover he was in down into the assembled raiders of some description or another. Either way they were trying to break into his new home. These people were nice to him and he'd be damned if they were going to kill them all. They'd already taken out the settler on watch duty that night, Buck Hunter. His parents had a very strange sense of humor, yes, but he'd been a nice guy, and now his body was a wreck on the ground below him. Sakarias had run up to take up his spot, as it provided a good overwatching spot and his laser pistol offered a good enough cover fire to force the raiders into cover down in the courtyard too.

He'd seen some group or another coming up the road, but in the darkness, occasionally illuminated by muzzleflashes and what seemed to be some sort of plasma weapon this new group was firing, though it was like nothing the Synth had seen during his time in the institute. "I'd say reinforcements for our attackers, but they seem to be fighting each other.... The next caravan wasn't to arrive for a few days, and there's really no one else out here in the sticks, strange." He mumbled again, before popping up to make a more aimed shot, a flash then a beam arcing down to strike one of the raiders square in the chest. He flew back and almost instantly began melting into glowing radioactive goop.

Disgusting, but at least that was one less raider. Hopefully whoever these new arrivals were they were coming to help, they weren't going to last much longer. The settlers were held up in their homes at this point, trying to prevent the raiders from breaking down their doors while firing out the nearby windows.

---

A Sith and a Jedi chat

Maghrl nodded, grinning lopsidedly, one ear going to a ninety degree angle from the other. "Been while since partner too. Hadn't time for apprentice back in homes, you bet. Newly made Knight Jedi when I poofed in here. Strange, no? Demens has weirdish humor." He rolled his blue eyes and grinned, stretching out in his seat as he looked over Sosewe's lightsaber. Impressive craftsmanship, though the curved blade was an interesting choice. Very much reminiscent of the old Darth Tyrannus, better known by his assumed title Count Dooku. What a pretentious person to assume a title of nobility even though Jedi swore them off. it was that same pretention that drove him to the darkness anyway, and aligning himself with that monster Palpatine.

By comparison to such a haughty individual, the Sith didn't seem as if he was nearly as pretentious of a person, which was a good sign. Sosewe also didn't seem quite as dark as other dark users, at least to Maghrl. His presence in the force, Maghrl reached out to it subtly to read what it was like while leaving himself open as a measure of trust to his curious probing. It'd help the Squib get a read on the Sith easier, and vice versa. Maghrl himself felt very impulsive, unlike most Jedi's normal calm and attempt to keep emotions even. Maghrl's presence felt inquisitive and searching, and felt like untapped potential in a way. Though due to the same impulsiveness Maghrl couldn't quite reach the depths of the force using the Jedi method of introspection. He just didn't like sitting still and doing nothing, even if it was meditation in pursuit of deeper understanding of the force.

"Sosewe? What reason for Cybernetic? Injury, desire to improve self, elseness?" He asked, curious why the human before him was more machine than man, and while he waited for the response the Squib levitated up his lightsaber and started cleaning it off some, doing just some routine maintenance to keep it working optimally.

[Mincaldenteans]

Months After...

Mezran

Mezran awoke to an empty apartment; mornings had not felt the same since her departure, it was cold despite the warmth of the fire and the thick hides used for blankets, empty of the morning's usual verbal jab's, absent one more chair at the table, absent one more plate and stein for their shared meal, absent the only other person that could truly understand what it was to be Klingon. Mezran had no illusions: they were not lovers, they were not family, but her absence was more keenly felt than he expected. He had come to rely on her opinions, help plan the defense of the building, work with others to set teams in case of an attack, train yet more under Romulus' command when the Varg crew returned, and where he went - she simply followed in support. When he was misinterpreted, she mediated; when he was too brusque; she tactful. Magnificent did not begin to describe the woman that she was and Mezran remembered meeting her the first day: Old age hadn't lessen her cutting remarks and rejuvenation only made her sharper. She was unattainable, untouchable, and Mezran adored, admired, perhaps even loved her for it. The Klingon warrior growled thereafter, such emotions served no purpose and he rose from his hide covered table (cause it certainly was not a bed), pushing aside the comfortable material as reality sunk in again that she was simply gone.

He recalled the months that passed. Tavana had stated time and again her need to explore and venture out with her own life outside the confines of the building and even before the duty set forth by Demens. The meeting with Demens had only cemented her resolve to leave, feelnig as though she would never have that second chance at a different life. They argued that night, words of duty and freedom clashed with honor and responsibility; the two did not get anywhere in their argument, and while hurling objects and rough sex would have resolved whatever UST they had for one another, they kept their distance. That morning, she had packed her things in a leather bag filled with bare necessities, a walking stick she fashioned from a fallen branch outside during the cold weeks, and was armed simply with her trusted daggers. Her mien was inscrutable and there was no apology in her eyes or her decision to take (what humans called) a 'walk about'. Mezran couldn't stop her, or rather, he wouldn't. He realized she needed to find her own path no matter the consequences and before she left, he made an uncharacteristic move of hugging her gently, reminding Tavana of the home she would have here should she return.

She said nothing, the unruly chestnut hair covered her reaction as she slipped from his grasp and took her leave silently before the morning light. She doubted anyone would take notice, perhaps those within the Guild and the rest that made up the building's defense teams. But they'd manage without her, of that much she was convinced.

That was a week ago, Mezran reminded himself. Things had moved smoothly enough and while her absence was noted, it didn't hinder the residents' goal of working as one. Accommodations where made and the days wore on. Mezran did not have a heavy heart, although it sure felt devoid of one. He ignored it, taking in his morning breakfast of liver and raktijino and resolved to focus on the day ahead of them. Such menial tasks for today were superimposed upon (and motivated) by the promise of the promise of glory, and legacy, of slaying gods. If they were to meet these Devourers, he looked forward to the day where it would taste his blade. It wasn't the first time he waxed on to Tavana with great enthusiasm and anticipation for such a legendary battle. It brought a fierce smile upon and the Klingon looked up from his plate then, half expecting her to say something cutting from across the table with her trademark derisive smirk. Legacy, Mezran could almost hear her, Can it keep you warm at night?

He scowled then, placing his stein on the table and wiped his mouth across his forearm. "It can if you try hard enough," he growled out, unsure if he was responding to delusions or convincing himself, or both. Mezran pushed his plate away and rose from the table to change into his uniform. Minutes later, the fire pit had been rested, and the temperature of his apartment dropped while the morning's chill slipped through the Building's walls and filled his apartment aside. He fastened a leather strap on his right gauntlet, securing it in place and sheathed his mek'leth behind his back and quickly left his home and down to the common areas to see what could be done for the day.

---

Anais

A new day brought about new opportunities and today was no different. Anais had just completed her morning routine of meditation and a martial art form similar to t'ai chi ch'uan. The guild hall remained quiet until the sun rose and her ears picked up the usual bustling of her guildmates as they prepared themselves for the day's routines. Trees rustled as it sang to the morning breeze and bird chirped in greeting to the day ahead of them. The Ritualist recalled everyone's duties today: Alexia would head for the village, it was her turn to man the clinic; it was a pleasant duty according to the monk, an easy day compared to battling Varg and a vast improvement of not being so far from home. The rest of the Guild would make themselves available wherever it was needed. Anais would also leave a list at the hospital and told everyone else within the healer's circle to do the same the night before as Alexia would be in the village clinic most of the day and volunteered to bring back whatever she could provided that 1) the village had it and 2) the Residents left money for it or promised some form of reimbursement. Anything she got would be placed at the hospital for pick up.

The ritualist relished the thought that the healer's group had a working system. The magic practitioners of the building had come together and worked in a cohesive manner that utilized their abilities and always in a practical manner. Perhaps the greatest magic, of course, was Kale's dedication in the field, tending to the plants with her own hands. Erick, with his own magic tied to earth, noted there wasn't a manipulation of the soil and all that was grown was nurtured. He wanted to help and learn from the plant girl, but times were busy during the winter and following months that made opportunities fleeting. No matter, life moved on and the Residents trucked along.

Relations with the village had improved and remained steady and perhaps it wasn't too surprising, although somewhat bittersweet, that Hunter revealed he would be staying there permanently. The mayor didn't seem to mind another a Resident living among them, provided he could support himself. As luck would have it, there here was an opening at the local pub, and he was a bartender before he was ever a resistance fighter. It was perfect and cemented his decision to settle down in the peaceful village. Hunter had left note to Romulus and Minerva that if there was ever a need for him, they'd know where he'd be. Anais wasn't sure how she felt about his departure, having learned of Dan's when the Varg questers had finally returned home. The fae had likewise chose to stay with his own kind, and while the ritualist was happy he finally got to be among his own people, she couldn't help but feel their absence. She'd miss them, but knew they were in good hands and she could always pay them a visit.

"Care for some breakfast, Anais?" Erick asked, taking her out of her reverie and stood by the doorway to the main hall, hands folded in with the folds of his long brown and white sleeves. He bowed his head in greeting while an amused smile danced across his handsome face when he looked back up, "Cherry is cooking."

Anais blanched in response, "Oh no."

Last month, her friend nearly burned down the kitchen and put a veil around the stove in a frantic bid to ease their worries. The illusion only lasted a handful of moments as she couldn't veil smoke or the smell of charred meat. Having no other food, they were forced to pick around the burnt roast. Anais had pulled double duty that night tending to her food poisoned guildmates.

The holy warrior chuckled and took light steps down into the courtyard, handing Anais a small parchment roll, "I'll tell her you were called away."

"Please do," she said with relief, taking the parchment and realized it was her small list of items. She folded it into a small pouch at the hip and picked up her staff that lied on a bed of grass. Anais turned around with a faint smile, "At least Alex will be here."

"Traxt is helping Cherry with breakfast, so shouldn't be an issue. Anyway, best you head out, before she gets ideas to wrangle you into the kitchen."

Anais nodded while Erick walked with her to the door, "Please let Alexia know I'll be at the hospital, my list will be on the front desk. I've got a few last things to touch upon in my area there and I'd like to go over my work before I attend to anything else. Good luck with breakfast."

---

Mab

Of course, a Gods' War. Of course: creators, manipulators, and destroyers. If there was ever a cycle she knew best it was birth and rebirth, and all the ugliness that came with its timeless beauty. It struck her odd that her reaction wasn't what she thought it would be. While the rest were a mix of confusion, shock, and righteous anger to Demens' revelation... Mab wanted to laugh. Even at the top of the food chain, with the ability to create, destroy and twist the very fabric of existence and decide the fate of every sentient being, they were still playing the same old game of those below, the same old cycle, like a badly carved stone wheel wobbling along a dirt path. It's magnificence would be that it rolled, its wonder was that it could reach its destination, and the result would be that it could do it again, this time in reverse.

Was that why Fritz gave her choice? To rid herself of her own burdens against Summer and take up arms against a more nobler cause? If that were the case, it wasn't choice, it was purpose. Or was she, like the rest of the ilk in the building, just a weapon at Demens' disposal? Was Fritz? The avatar hadn't been around for a long while.

Demens called them Serendipity, but Mab could only see them as sheep. Her included. The notion awoke a fury in the dark recesses of her being as it howled in indignation at the possibility of being reduced to nothing as the Devourers would have it. She was Mab! Her being was testament that Fate had no strings upon her, that she was the mistress of her own existence and none before or after her would stop her. If the alternate version of Mab was any indicator, she could do the same.

The Winter Sidhe couldn't help it and broke into a long mirthless laugh as the subject rebounded upon itself with different words of the same meaning. She held her cup of morning tea close to her and spun the vintage chair around for a better view of the rising sun as it rose gently above the far hills. From afar, she could see and feel Winter receding into the darkest corners, away from Summer as it blossomed across the dense trees, searing life into everything the light could shine upon. In the months that had followed Demens' appearance, Maeve and Nerys were in heated negotiations with Mab, who took it upon herself to find a workable peace between the Residents and the Fey. Having knowledge of Dan staying among them had tipped the balance in Mab's favor.

True to their natures, Maeve was short on words and Nerys too long, but finally, after weeks of negotiation and details the truce was an easy one. There would be no reprisal for the sheep - the Mof's claim was true - as it served the community and thus some balance was achieved. As a creature of the Wyld, it belonged to no one and, in due time, would disappear and rejoin itself to the Wyld. Nor would there be an accounting of Kale's errant disregard of forcing the earth to bend to her will; her magic was potent and rang like a foul organ upon their ears. Her tending to the field outside placated them, Nerys especially.

Dan staying with them proved to be an advantage, who now was under the care and charge of Nerys as a formal Guest. And Maeve would have to honor that that as well given the truce between the Residents and the Fey Courts. He would serve as an informal liaison to them, should the need arise, but Mab would handle most matters. She wondered if they were to rally the Fey to Demens' cause, to bring about their most powerful and deadly into battle.

"To what end?" She asked out loud. Besides survival?

[Swith Witherward]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

"Target in the watchtower just south of you," the confident voice coming from the earpiece took Minerva by surprise. No more the shrinking violet, Myra spoke with authoritative calm. "Guardian recommends immediate snatch and grab. Hold on to your butts, Captain. Divine Blessing incoming."

Now that made the cultist leader cringe. For the longest time, new Residents arrived having no knowledge of how they got there or what transpired during the time between collection and front desk. "Divine Blessing" was nothing more than a rude "Go the fuck to sleep" courtesy of Demens. Of course, the tracers would protect the extraction team, but it was damned annoying.

"You heard Control," Minerva huffed. "Stand by."

Nothing could withstand Divine Blessing. Not Opa's kind, not the Nifid, not even the most resolute god. It was the cosmic finger that extended into the cup to personally thwack some unsuspecting fuck at the back of his skull. Or so Minerva liked to think of it. In reality, it simply Happened on rare occasions where the extraction ran in tandem with too many innocents dying.

It came on without a sound, and lacked all sensation. No special effects. No melodious chorus. Nothing. One moment the slugs were flying, and then everything crumpled. The silence become momentarily deafening, though the crackle of fire soon replaced it in Minerva's eardrums.

Cultist experience told her that none of the people - raider and colonist alike - would awaken until released from the Blessing. They had time to work.

"Opa, Insidious, locate the VIP in the tower, and render some basic first aid to any settlers... nothing that will stand out or leave traces of otherworldly presence, please! Sakarias is probably slumped out of sight. Tora, look around. These weapons aren't familiar. We could do with adding them to our arsenal. I'll handle our bad guys away."

She trusted them to do their job, just as she trusted the Blessing to keep everyone in stasis. Minerva slipped out of Time and, to those watching, it would appear that each enemy body would simply vanish. In truth, she hauled them out of Time and pinched distance to deposit their sorry asses several miles away. The last body, this one the headless corpse, bore a note taped to its chest: "Return and be cursed."

Minerva stepped into Time once more, her face having aged at least a decade. She brushed aside red hair shot with silvery strands as she sought out Tora. "Right then," she approached the young woman. "Collected enough? We might as well haul this all through the gates. Insidious, Opa, ready?"

[Torsiedelle]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Had Torii done her job. A small arsenal of various weapons lay at her feet, proudly displayed; a clunky laser musket, out of ammunition, an M1918 BAR, a bulky rifle with a watercooling jacket that somehow passed as an assault rifle (Torii was drooling over it), and a large number of clunky, rusty old pipe rifles, built by hand from wood, pipes, and various other parts. Some were automatic, others semi-auto, and some bolt-action weapons using bolts and latches to work the bolt. Torii had her M14 shouldered, and was holding an automatic one with a side-loaded magazine and a jaged piece of metal fastened to the barrel. "Looks like some real ghetto weaponry here for the most part.", She said with a grin, playing with the pipe rifle. "They work, though. Smaller calibre, but look easy to modify, real tight, feel okay to handle. We could try and take a few apart and see how they're made, produce our own. Weapons like this aren't very complicated. I like this one, too. It's cute."

Torii wrapped her fingers around the grip, which seemed to make a good pistol grip, wherever it came from. A pipe ran out from the butt, with what looked like the top of a crutch for a buttstock. "I think we need a name for weapons like these."

........

"To make myselfstronger, in a way.", Said Sozewe. "One of the greatest pursuits of the Sith was power, but what that powers was, wasn't always the same I suppose. Still, many pursued the power to escape death - immortality. There are legends of one Sith Lord who could do so, and used his power to bring back those dear to him. It's an interesting legend indeed.", He said.

"Of course, another way to beat death, the way I see it, is in shedding that which can die. Flesh can whither and die, but metal cannot."

[Swith Witherward]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

"Outstanding work," Minerva couldn't help but smile at the apparent affinity between the young woman and the pipe rifle in her hands, nor the ravenous look in her eyes regarding their stash. "I concur with your idea. If they prove easy to make, we might find ourselves making a profit down the line." She pulled the bulky rifle from the pile and gave it a once-over, paying close attention to the jacket. It had a good feel in her hands, and certainly wasn't too ornery for her feminine fingers.

"Think fast, Dimitrov," Minerva tossed the weapon to the girl. "Think you could put this to good use? It needs some TLC. Take it to Thad and he might machine some parts to replace what's wearing thin."

Her eyes scanned the tower, and the slumped (yet certainly alive) colonists. The boy's death was a pity.

Myra's voice returned to the team's earpieces, thought muffled as if she had a pencil clutched between her teeth. "Make sure the VIP has his violin. The Building's prepared to assess his vibe and set up his apartment. I sent a parakeet to Volker to give him a heads-up." A pause, and the voice became clearer. "Guardian says there might be another extraction today, but Will's got it covered. Snatch and grab only. And we're running low on juice for Romy's armor. Want me to put together a team, Minerva?"

"Affirmative, dear. Might as well send the General along."

The cultist leader smiled. For the first time ever, Residents were part of the process. All the little mysteries were exposed: Volker's source of information, how people arrived without memory of the trip, how orders were dispatched. It was - a relief? Yes, that was a good word for it. It took the pressure off her Lads and Klaus' Men, and it gave Residents a reason to invest in the process. Plus they wouldn't have to shove people through the chandelier anymore. Oh... bonus!

"Hurry up, you two," she prodded the Luxan and android. Minerva slipped a soft case from her pocket, and unzipped it to extract a small tracer to place on their VIP.

[Torsiedelle]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Torii dropped the pipe rifle - it wasn't going to get any more broken - and just barely caught the large assault rifle. She tucked it under one arm, and reached down to pick the other pipe rifle back up. She had her own small armory, now.

"Profit? Definitely! We can also supply that village nearby, or whoever else beeds them out in the country. An armed populous is a safe populous. So, want me to head home now, or will we be going back all together? I trust OPA can carry the rest of our stash? Oh! We can build an armory!"

[Primordial Luxa]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Insidious scrambled through the compound keeping her guard up even though the Divine Blessing had been deployed although she let her skin revert to a more colorful and enjoyable hue. She used her powerful firearm to remove the barricaded doors and barriers that she came across and with Opa’s help and the lack of resistant it didn’t take the two of them very long to access the main compound.

Along the way, trudging through depressing looking hallways and simplistic rooms Insidious came across a few injured defenders. She gave most of them a quick shot of assorted chemicals and narcotics which would increase their natural healing abilities for a short time. She considered it subtle enough that they wouldn’t be aware of it. Most likely the substance would run its course by the time they woke up. Insidious wasn’t entirely sure why Minerva wanted to keep their presence hidden, Insidious like the idea of people spreading word of their exploits, but she defaulted to her leadership none the less.

Eventually Insidious found the VIP slumped over in the guard tower. “Fair princess your knight has come, come let down your hair,” she muttered under her breath as she called to Opa and began lowering the VIP down towards the android.

[Highfort]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Opa did as it was told, clambering over to the southern watchtower to retrieve their quarry. The corpse of a child sat at the bottom. The android paused to assess the cold body for a moment, processing whether it would need to call over Insidious to render medical assistance. Sensors confirmed no vital signs - the child was dead. No matter, so long as the quarry survived.

Opa stood for several moments, almost as though in a trance. It said nothing and thought nothing. But something about the corpse was... intriguing. Perhaps it was sad, if a riot control android could feel such emotions.

As Insidious lowered the target from the watchtower, Opa found what appeared to be a human-looking robot - though much of the skin was missing, thus rendering the human-like appearance moot - knocked out near a makeshift pipe rifle. Judging that this must be the VIP, the android proceeded to carefully sling the human-bot over its shoulder, cradling the head with its shield, before carefully making its way back to Minerva.

A pair of hands would've certainly helped out. Opa made a mental note to ask Thaddeus the next time the cyborg was free. Shields and cannons could only take one so far, after all.

Arriving back at the group just in time to see Torii gushing over a possible armory, Opa deposited the VIP at Minerva's feet.

"Captain. Blackwater," it nodded at her, gesturing with his powered-down cannon at the human-like robot before it, "Our V-I-P. Looks to be. Robotic with. Imitation skin. For human. Appearance. No violin. Found."

Turning to address Torii's suggestion that it carry back the rest of the quarry, Opa gestured with both its main limbs, "As you can. See, Miss. Dimitrov. I lack hands. With which to. Carry these. Weapons. If you could. Find a sled. For me to. Drag back. And pile them. On, I could. Oblige you."

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

A Few Months From Last Time
The past few months had been both eventful and utterly mundane for the Iracuse sisters. On one hand, the duo had worked at mending their frayed friendship. Working closely together on several projects, wandering about the building together, and trying to revive the spirit of the 'good old days'. While maybe not 100% successful, they're certainly a lot less hostile to one another than they used to be.

Well, of course, Adri has now been trying to one-up her elder sister, but at least a little progress was made before that occurred.

Regardless of the past few months, the two made their way to the dining hall together, Crysal clanking about in her armor, and Adri slinking behind her in those all-too-familiar medieval monk robes. Adri looked up at her towering sister, and chuckled. "I swear you even shower in that garb. I'll never understand the appeal."

"If someone breaks into your apartment, you'd rather not be caught with your metaphorical pants down."

"The crime rate here is on par with the pacific ocean. As in, uninhabited. As in, none."

"Famous last words, Adri." Crysal patted her younger sibling on the head as the two found a suitable set of chairs, plopping themselves down and mulling over their culinary options for the morning.

[Swith Witherward]

---

OPERATION: SOUND
DIMENSION: 115B
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Zed

---

"'Allo sunshine!"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Will. There's no smoking in here," Myra brushed aside her curtain of hair to observe Minerva's Second, and the cigarette precariously perched between his lips. The lighter's flame cast his blonde hair and haze eyes in warm light. "The Guardians, they don't-"

"Right, then, they don't like anybody having a bit of fun, yes, I know," the Lad's zippo hinge closed with a snap. "You got anything for me?"

Myra lowered her hair and returned to her console, fingers dancing across the air as she pulled up bits of data. "Not really. Alpha team is still out, and we're gearing up for Bravo to go get supplies. Romulus needs juice soon. Oh, wait!" She swept aside images to uncover a file. "I was going to send Rudolf on this one, but you can have it if you want. Extraction. Subject slated to die in a few hours."

Will's eyebrow raised in intrigue. "Interrogation gone wrong? Saving the day only be be crushed by a meteorite? Leading a platoon across a mine field?"

"The 4 o'clock bus," Myra giggled from behind her bangs. "Plows her down like a turtle on a highway at exactly 4:08 PM."

The cultist rolled his eyes and opened his locker. "Boring extraction. Lovely. I'll take it. Better than fapping to Annie Lennox."

"Who?" Myra chuckled as she downloaded mission details to his databall.

"Annie Lennox," Will affixed his ear piece. "Scottish singer, songwriter, political activist and philanthropist? Eurythmics? "Sweet Dreams"? Bah. Youth is wasted on the wrong people." He tested the databall and cringed as the image of a teenager with purple hair and eyes flickered onto the display. "I don't suppose you'd care if I waited until 4:09? I mean, it's just what we need - one more slugabout sitting around the teen clubhouse bemoaning a lack of attention."

"Hey! I'm part of the Teen Club," Myra glowered.

"Yeah, but you'll be twenty soon. Fully adult," a lewd smile spread across the cultist's lips. "I'd tap that ass if you'd ever come out of your mousy shell. And now, the Gate, please. Thank you."

It was fortunate that Myra's bangs covered most of her face. The scarlet blush coloring her cheeks was intense enough to pass for a bad sunburn. Shaky fingers tapped thin air as she established a bond with the dimension and then, once the Gatekeeper was satisfied, she opened the gate for Will to step through.


Will had plenty of time to spare, and so he spent most of it wandering around a park. He had just started in on his third hotdog when Myra's voice pierced his ear. "Your target is a block away, and it's nearly 4:05!"

The cultist grunted and swallowed the rest of his supper, then stepped into the shrubs lining the tennis courts. He walked within the shadows for a time, his route directly taking him towards the intersection the databall indicated. And then he waited, poised under the asphalt and sewer, at the corner of Gardenia and Fifth Avenue, until the time was just right.


Evening sunshine filtered between buildings, bathing the facades of the ones across the street in an umber glow. Pedestrians crowded the sidewalks and spilled through crosswalks in a frantic effort to get home or, in the case of the unlucky one, to get to work on time. The girl with the guitar case slung across her back paid little attention to any of it, though. Her eyes darted this way and that, frantically scanning the crowded sidewalk for any sign of her companion, Aquario. He said he was getting coffee. That was nearly twenty minutes ago. Damnit!

Otonako Irizari had no idea that Aquario had walked two blocks over to avoid a long line. She didn't know he had been delayed by a brand new barista. She had no way of knowing any of this, or even her own fate, as she shrugged to ease her guitar case a bit higher before stepping off the curb. It wasn't until the bus' flat grin was inches from her body that she realized she had walked right into death. And then a hand wrapped itself around her ankle, and she felt the street swallow her up just as the bus rolled over her. She knew no more.

Down she fell, then sideways. "Hold on, Gate ahead," came a voice in the dark. It was British in nature, and its tone was that of an adult's, but Otonako was caught up in a Blessing spell, caught fast in a sleep more deep than death itself.


Myra lifted her eyes as Will stepped through the Gateway and into a bland room.

"Piece of cake," the man declared as he set Otonako down gently. His hands smoothed his blue-grey RAF uniform.

"You have a mustard stain on your label," the girl parted her curtain of hair to regard the spot. "I sent a parakeet to Volker. He's waiting on Otonako there."


Otonkao would awaken only a short time later. She was no longer facing down a bus. No, she was in an old fashioned, claw-foot bathtub, its shower curtain billowing like a great sail as it floated far about a rolling ocean. Her guitar rested against her side, and a man in a military uniform sat at the very back of the tub, his rump resting on the lip and a lit cigarette clenched between his teeth.

"Good afternoon, Miss Irikari. Welcome to Gallimaufry Mundi," he tapped an ash over the side. "I a Will, and I'm sure you have questions!"

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

"You'd look good with arms," Minerva winked at the android. "Robotic VIP, you say?" She squatted to example the strange new Resident, and to plant a tracer on him. There wasn't much to him, not counting the oddity of his form. He certainly didn't look as though he could tear holes in walls or twist heads off. Yet looks could be deceiving. Minerva rose.

"Alright, then, we haven't much time. Let's grab what we can carry. Opa, would you mind boosting me up?" She gestured to the tower.

By the time her boots touched down again, the violin was tucked safely in its case and under her arm. Tora had found several sheets, and these had been made into bundles to hold a few weapons (Minerva wouldn't allow them to take them all - the settlers would be unprotected!). Alas for Opa, he was once again a pack mule.

"We came as a group, we leave as a group," Minerva hefted the robot up so that his weight was balanced between her and Insidious. "Let the dead bury their dead. All ready? Let's get back to the Gate."

The going was slow thanks to the robot's weight, but soon the entire group was once again assembled on the concrete road, facing the woods. The air in front of them increased in density, and the tracers pulled them towards it. They stepped through to find Myra exactly where they left her.

It was at that moment that Sakarias awoke. Minerva and Insidious eased him to the ground.

[Torsiedelle]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Amongst the rabble of the others moving and checking on the strange new resident, Torii moved quietly. She put her M14 and other gear back into the locker from which she got them, before turning to grab the assault rifle and her new pipe rifle off of Opa’s back. She needed to let Thaddeus see the assault rifle, and as for the pipe rifle, she would keep it, allow the others to be stored, and have them analyzed to see how easily they could be made in the building. A cheap, effective firearm like these, even if crude, could be distributed to villagers to defend their land, and make their jobs a bit easier. At the very least, having some of the things around could be good if they were needed in a pinch.

Torii only wished she had something to use as a sling. Carrying two rifles at once was hard.

"Want me to take these home?", She asked Minerva. "Have them analyzed?"

[Chedastan]

"General Romulus, there aren't any other Romuluses around here. You are you, the only of you, yes?" she averted her eyes under the pretense of looking at the steps, then added, "But if you are the only you, and there are no others like you, are you very lonely?"

Romulus stopped his walking for a moment once they had gotten up to the top of the stairs, and had turned towards Nila. Her question was one that he had pondered for awhile, and one that he would even stressed over every now and then. The last people he had saw from the Imperium were his men that were fighting with him against the last of the Prismites several months before, and since then he had not seen a single other soul from his dimension, let alone from his Imperium, and he would have damn known it if there has been one or not.

He had been mad at Demens for it obviously. Though he had realized that his current situation was at least probably still better than being left to fend for himself in... The void? His head hurt trying to remember exactly what happened during his time between getting ejected from his dimension from that Prismite's tear in reality, and arriving to Gallimaufry Mundi courtesy of Demens. He simply couldn't remember much of anything else though, other than it wasn't very pleasant at all, so maybe he could be bit thankful to Demens for getting him away from that.

He looked down at the construct and thought of her question again. "I guess I am lonely, considering I'm the only one that's from the Wilhelm Imperium currently here, and it has pained me somewhat to live with that." He had said to her honestly, but then realize he should probably say something more cheerful, for her sake. "But y'know, at least there's a lot people here to talk to, people to get to know. Like I hardly knew anyone that wasn't from the Imperium before I got here, I was simply too busy conquering them before." He chuckle a bit at his own dark humor, but then he fell silent for a brief moment before speaking again.

"Nila, do you miss your home too? Your dimension I mean, you got a family, friends?" He then asked her as he resumed to walk again towards where food and coffee would be, still holding her hand.

[New Aksarben]

"To make myselfstronger, in a way.", Said Sozewe. "One of the greatest pursuits of the Sith was power, but what that powers was, wasn't always the same I suppose. Still, many pursued the power to escape death - immortality. There are legends of one Sith Lord who could do so, and used his power to bring back those dear to him. It's an interesting legend indeed.", He said.

"Of course, another way to beat death, the way I see it, is in shedding that which can die. Flesh can whither and die, but metal cannot."

The Squib nodded enthusiastically, his ears still at the strange angle for whatever reason. It seemed Sosewe would have to get used to another kind of Being's body language while he was working with Maghrl, as it wasn't really human in any appreciable way. His nose twitched a bit before speaking again, possibly betraying some sort of disgust, or something entirely different. Sosewe would just have to get used to a Squib's unique way of talking and expressing itself!

"Maghrl get, you bet." He replied, nodding once more. "Jedis way acceptwise that life end eventually, though protect lifish while life exist with all mightiness!" The Squib's ears returned to both standing straight up, still turned towards Sosewe with a few occasional twitches and movements. "Mag seewise of benefit of cyberneticish longevity, you bet. Always love robot, though Robot always maybe able shut off foreverwise, or left on but movementwise unable to, stuck in placewise forevers! Not happy fate, no sirs"

---

The synthetic human let out a robotic gasp as he felt his functions resume, along with the surprise of the sudden change of venue from his perspective. He shot up into sitting position, the servos running his eyes whirring and glancing around desperately as he tried to figure out where he was. It was nowhere he would imagine could even still exist in his world, everything was too pristine. But the synth had never believed in any sort of heaven or hell, at least not since he had 'woken up' in this form after his last human memories had returned. Had he died, been shot to pieces? Last he could remember the fight was raging and then just... Nothing!

"Ah, Wha, who who where... What in bloody hell is going on?!" He blinked, utterly confused by where he was now. Though, the silhouettes he'd seen moving up the road before everything went dark.... Wait what!

It was only then the Synth properly noticed he wasn't alone, the jolt backwards accompanied by subtle whirring almost impossible to hear as he moved. The two closest to him looked so bizzare to the Synth, someone dressed entirely in leather yet not a raider, and some woman who's clothes seemed to... wait..."Who in the wasteland are you people! And why do your clothes look so... pristine? And wait are you even wearing clothes?!" Then, the continued surprises mounted, as his eyes noticed the hulking robot, and his speech lapsed into Finnish. " Mitä? Securitron? Ei ole, että ollenkaan."

Seems the sudden transition wasn't doing good for the Synth, but at least he seemed to be lively for having just woken up!

[Giovenith]

Inn

Giovenith finished rubbing away the last of the smudges on the glass jar, ticking off mental checklists of small things that needed to be done here and there in the medical unit. Things were going moderately well. In the months that had passed, Giovenith had taken to attempting to bottle her own healing smoke for future use with mixed results. A lot of the time the stuff would just harden over around the edges and her hand, whereas a few times it actually managed to stay in a swirling smoke-form if she sealed the jar in time. It was easy to use then, just pop it open and pour it on a wound. She'd been trying to think of ways to get a higher success rate though, and today she had an idea.

She's taped together several straws together and had popped the very end through a small sheet of plastic stretched across the jar opening. The godling began to blow into the long straw, and soon enough, purplish-blue smoke began to swirl and fill the jar. Success! As soon as it was filled, she screwed the lid over the plastic, ripped off the excess fringes, and set it among the other supplies. Things were good, for now.


Chrys and Brit

"You don't have to keep talking like that," Platinum directed at Chrys as she and her magician walked through the door. "It's demeaning and Clover already told me everything."

Little time was wasted. Clover's magic gently pulled the two from the bed and propped the cinnamon toast between their teeth before beginning to rummage through a box she had brought with them. They seen found themselves being equipped with tight-fitting yet comfortable books, vests, and straps.

"The four of us are going downward to put an end to whatever is going on down there," Platinum said as she geared herself up. A bit of her own magic died the two womens' hair up in an elegant but practical fashion, and set goggles atop their heads. The glass within them was specially designed to see in the dark. "And the goal is to be back before sundown. Before we go though, Brit, you were there. I need you to tell me everything you remember.


Rache and Willow

Willow raised an eye but nodded. He'd fallen asleep before Rache had returned to his body and he could ask about how his spiritual search for Yuna had gone, so it didn't take a lot of mental hoop-jumping to guess at what the daemonpony was inferring.

"Well that is both exciting and concerning," he said, untwisting some ties from a little square of grass. "I hope we can find them, but I also hope nothing has happened to them." That would kill him if something had. It would be all his fault. Hopefully if they didn't do anything to arise ill attention.

"I can get you anything you want, Rache," Cloud Duster said, busy picking all the sweet bits from the goodie bag for himself. "It's my duty to."

Of course he wouldn't bring the two to the specific location where he got the goods. Likely they were examining and carting away the hung soldier's body right about now, and even though he'd genuinely had nothing to do with that, he didn't need it setting it off any alarms. Plus there would likely still be ponies around who might have wanted to ask him about Valoria, which was also a no-go. There were other places.

"I know where Pansy lives too, for the record," he added. "Do you want us to pick her up on the way to shop, or on the way to Groundtown?"

Willow tried not to look too anxious. He remembered what Rache said before about not trusting the other pony and wondered if perhaps this was the time to start snipping ties - if not slowly. "You know Duster, if you want to stay behind when we head down, it's okay."

Cloud Duster stilled and looked pointedly at Willow.

Oh shit! Willow backpedaled. "I mean if they're doing lynchings and shit, I wouldn't blame you for wanting to stay home and be safe."

"How considerate of you, Willow. I'd like that very much."

Huh, that was easy. "Well yeah, you've done so-"

"I'm sure Pansy and I can keep ourselves busy with chores for the superiors."

This gave Willow pause. His first instinct was to correct him stating that Pansy actually would come along with them, but it was in preparing a response for this that he realized how damning it would sound. Why insist on Pansy coming along while suggesting Cloud Duster stay? He didn't really have any good reasoning for that. Of course he and Rache knew why, but this wasn't something just honestly explained. Backpedal, backpedal...

"But of course, you two can both make whatever choice you want," the artist quickly clarified.

"Mmmmhm," the Private popped a berry in his mouth. He'd never once broken eye contact the whole exchange. "I'll think about it. Though, I do know quite a bit about the lay-out of the ground that Aurora Mist and her ponies might not. Helps to have a leg up against the home field advantage."

Ah, so he knew where Commander Hurricane was, how to find someone with directions to that place, how to obtain extra food during famine, where Pansy lived, and some of the lay-out of the Earth pony territory? If he hadn't already seen him actually put his money where his mouth was at least a few of those times, Willow would have been inclined to call him on his bullshit. He narrowed his brow a smidge. "Is there anything you don't know?" he remarked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Where babies come from," Duster declared bluntly.

[Primordial Luxa]

Aegis

“Thank you very much,” Aegis said the Skywishes as she gave him and Yuna food. He didn't waste anytime voraciously devouring it. He was slowly but surely growing more and uncomfortable with the sheer primitiveness of this situation, it was intensely palpable to him but he tried to push past it and focus on the tasks at hand.

“I’ve been thinking about the creature since last night. Dreaming strongly on its nature and if it’s any like similar creatures from where i’m from then their prayer is an appropriate but futile response. Although I wish you’ll all the best of luck dealing with this problem and pray this will be the last such attack. ” He was fairly certain the creature was either a first dimensional foam infection or an avatar of the Wind Walker, although he couldn't be sure, something which frightened him to no end.

Still he changed the subject not wanting to go too into detail about such things unless he absolutely needed to. “Thank you again for everything Smart Cookie. We appreciate your visit. Unless there's anything you need we will probably take turns walking the field and sky for signs of our friends.”

[Highfort]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Opa cocked its head - or, rather, its entire body as the poor robot did not have a neck - at Minerva's comment. Its processor concluded that she was making a light comment, which he filed away for further analysis. Perhaps having arms would make him more friendly to newcomers and smooth diplomatic relations and discussions. Either way, the robot trudged forward with the cloth sacks tied around it, the clinking of metal and plastic ringing out as the guns rustled within the bags.

After Torii unloaded it, Opa jerked suddenly to address the awakening VIP. A quiet hum indicated that the processor was considering warming up the plasma cannon, but the riot android decided against it. This VIP was obviously of use to Demens - and given the thorough explanation given by the super-being, Opa concluded that he must have some good reason to want these individuals alive and on his side.

"You have been. Taken by Mr. Demens," Opa attempted to calm the synth with an explanation, "You have been. Chosen to assist. Him with an. Armed Conflict. Rest assured that. He has your. Best interests. In mind."

The distinctive Finnish accent was initially lost on Opa, before the android triangulated the words and realized the VIP was speaking a foreign language. He repeated his words, though broken as they were passed through a rusty translation program that hadn't been updated. After all, few Finns lived in the Confederation, and even fewer spoke their mother tongue.

"Sinulle on ottanut. Mister Demens," he repeated, "Sinut on valittu. Auttamaan häntä. Aseellisen konfliktin. Hän hyödyttää teitä."

[CAT XIII]

OPERATION: SOUND
DIMENSION: 115B 
LOCATION: Earth 
TEAM: Zed


"What am I doing here?" Otonako thinks, "Maybe I died and this is some kind of strange punishment? Has my life been saved again? Wait...who is this guy and what's he doing here?" "Who are you? Oh, and could you please tell me what I'm doing in a bathtub?" Her hair turns red with anger and confusion, she clutches her guitar, the only thing here she knows. "Where is Aquario?" She stares unblinkingly at the man in front of her with glaring red eyes.

[Swith Witherward]

BUILDING
The construct's ears flicked as she ruminated over Romulus' answer. It was certainly true that there were a lot of people to talk to. Even Ocho was good for that. Hmm. Ocho was the only Ocho, too. One Ocho. One Rumulus. One Rodney. Well, maybe not Rodney. He was a bad example because he was a bunch of Rodneys in a people suit. But all these other Residents seemed to be unique and thriving.

She politely smiled at his dark humor, and then her ears flicked again. "Family?" This was a tough thing to explain. Her bottom lip slipped between her front teeth as she tried to picture the best description of her kind.

"We are psionic," she chuckled. "Don't worry. I won't raid your mind. That's considered rude! But my sisters and I - we are constructed beings - and we share the Thought Stream. The Stream, where our thoughts run together. We are never alone because we can, at any time, slip into this stream to commune."

The construct blinked at him, quietly wondering to herself if all Romuluses were so tall, and if there were female Romuluses at all, and whether or not they were vat grown or arrived small and simply grew into their current state. "My sisters and I are the same, in this way. We are never alone. But right now, there aren't any sisters here. I've been feeling very left out of things. Oh, I know I could always pop down to the Chaos labs and talk to the M-series down there, but they aren't from my batch or dimension, and Morbus is very grumpy. Their thoughts have strange accents. I miss my home very much. I am lonely because I have no one to "think" to, if that makes sense? The silence is deafening."

Her eyes settled for a moment on the gauntlet-clad hand holding her own. She was grateful for the heavy material, for it kept the sensors and receptors in her fingers and palm from coming in contact with his own skin... his own nervous system. It's one thing to lament a sorrow; it's quite another to accidentally cause someone else to feel your grief. Nila sighed. "But it's nice to be able to talk to you, General Romulus. It's nice to know I'm not the only one missing home."

She smiled then, a genuine expression that crinkled the corners of her eyes, though the moment was short lived. Her eyes snapped shut as Morbus whispered into her mind, and the Building's PA system sprung to life, summoning Romulus to the front desk.

"Supply run, go-juice for your suit," was all the construct would say. Well, considering that was all the damn Morbus told her!

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

"Jossain määrin," Minerva muttered under her breath once Opa had explained. "This is something we all discover over time."

The cultist leader placed her weapon back in its rack before turning to address their new arrival. "I'm Captain Minerva Blackwater. This handsome machine is Opa. The pretty young girl is Miss Tora Dimitrov. And the woman with the enchanting skin is Insidious of Luxa. Oh, and that shy child in the wooden chair is Myra. She's manning C&C today."

She lifted the violin case and pressed it into the Synth's hands. "Sakarias Viitanen, right? Violinist and carpenter? That's what your dossier said. You are here because you have a greater purpose. If you want to learn more, follow us. We'll explain along the way. Come on, then! Tora, yes, brings those back to be analyzed. You might want to pester the geeks in the basement about them."

---

OPERATION: SOUND
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

"I am Will," the man flicked another ash from his cigarette, "And you are here because, had you remained where you were, you would be splattered all over the front of a bus."

He wasn't hostile. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease with both the situation and with the girl. "A person known as Mr. Demens wanted you saved. I don't know why. Perhaps you have a gift or talent that can help spare the world a lot of suffering? It's not my place to say. But here you are, on Gallimaufry, and we're heading towards a Building that houses many more like us. No one will harass you there, don't worry, Otonako."

Will's brows furrowed as he considered the sheer amount of confusion the girl was most likely suffering. "I'm sorry this is all such a shock to you. It shocks everyone at first."

---

RACHE AND WILLOW
NOW WITH A FUNNY HEADING
BECAUSE I'M SUFFERING FROM A NIGHT HIGH

---

Rache's expression didn't change though he caught on to Willow's attempt to divorce them from Cloud Duster. He shared much of the pony's concerns, though the two had yet to reveal them to each other. Cloud Duster was a hindrance, in Rache's eyes. Though he might know the lay of the land, he was not indispensable. In fact, Rache had every intention of slaughtering him once he'd outlived his usefulness. Call it a hunch on the daemon's part, but he felt the pony's soul would serve Chaos better once stripped from its body. Heh.

"Babies come from mare snatches," he replied without preamble or apology, then helped himself to a little square of grass. "You fuck it, you deal with mare drama for several months, and then you spend the next ten to eighteen years paying foal support. The end result is an unappreciative little bastard that doesn't give two shits about anyone but himself." He bit off the grass and ground it between his molars. "There," he said with a mouth half-full, "now you know everything."

Copulation was Pleasure's gig. The daemon had never found the thought of it much arousing. He had never been aroused. Not by sex. Blood, yes. Battle? Oh that was chub-inducing. But actual intercourse? Why? What a waste of time. Rache's eyes swept from Cloud Duster's to Willow's, and he barked out laughter at the thought of any of them managing to mount a mare while visiting.

Hmm. Then again...

Rache crammed more grass into his mouth to stop that thought from blossoming. "We'll get Pansy and set off after breakfast, if that's fine with both of you?'

[CAT XIII]

OPERATION: SOUND
DIMENSION: 115B 
LOCATION: Earth 
TEAM: Zed

Otonako calms down a bit and her hair goes back to being purple,
"Ok, that's cool. I don't think my guitar playing has ever helped anyone, if anything it causes suffering, but I'll try," she tilts her head slightly,"also, can I please get out of the bath now?"

[New Aksarben]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Sakarias was more than surprised by the fact that not only did one of them seem to speak Finnish, but two did. It'd been so long since he conversed with anyone in his own language. By his last reckoning.... several hundred years chronologically. His own Finnish was incredibly rusty, though luckily being now robotic his memory didn't decay like it used to. At least normally. He swore he had forgotten a few things over the years, though his memory was nearly perfect compared to what it used to be. "You know Finnish? Strange. Who is this Mister Demens? I have never heard this name before, nor do I recognize any of you. Is everyone from my home okay? Last I remember we were under attack by those damn raiders who moved into this old foundry up the road."

The Synth accepted the violin, standing himself up and stretching out his legs. His servos whirred slightly as he moved, though the only reason it was really perceptible was the holes in his outer layer. "Where even is this? I've never seen somewhere so pristine in the wasteland before...." He frowned a bit, before slinging the violin case over his back via its strap. "But yes, I am Sakarias Viitanen. Dossier? You have a dossier on me?"

[Torsiedelle]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Weapons fell back onto their pile, and, with a salute and a clack of boots that seemed a little too well rehearsed (Torii had much free time in her room nowadays), Torii replied heartily, "Aye aye, Ma'am! This looks like good loot. Crude, but they work."

She packed the sack back up, leaving the assault rifle to carry, and approached Opa. "Mind if we use you to carry these again? I won't get far carrying all of them."

Wanting to answer the new guy's questions, Torii nodded to the guns. "They're okay. We put those bad guys in the ground. Oh, and we're not in your homeworld anymore. This is somewhere entirely different. Don't worry, this isn't my home either."

She wanted to ask about his skin, his...synth-iness. It was cool. She didn't want to be rude, though. She'd just keep playing with the guns and stay in her place.

[Chedastan]

The General simply nodded at the construct, it's a shame they had to depart so soon! But at least his suit would end up getting its well needed resupply of hydrogen by the time they were done. Still, he felt bad that he couldn't really continue his meaningful conversation with her as duty was calling down upon him via the PA system. He sighed. "It was nice talking to you too, Nila. Hopefully we'll be done in short time." He smiled at her, and then freed her hand. Before going down the stairs though, he quickly ran over to the biscuit basket to grab a morsel, devouring it as he went down the stairs to search for Volker, who was expectantly at his spot at the front desk as per usual.

He swallowed what was in his mouth before saying anything to Volker. "General Romulus present and accounted for." He said to him simply, then returned to quickly finished what was left of biscuit. Hopefully he wasn't appearing to be rude, but the biscuit was literally the first thing he ate since he had awakened this morning, and there was no telling how long the supply run would end up taking.

[Primordial Luxa]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Insidious went about joining the rest the group as they tidied up. She was supremely pleased that the mission had gone off without any sorts of issues. Like the others she also was focused on Demen’s latest acolyte. Insidious disliked the machines intensely mechanical nature, finding the lack of organs and flesh very disturbing. Because of this she kept her distance and didn't join in on explaining the entire situation to it. Once she had looked over the strange robot to her heart's content she began returning her weapons, supplies and medical equipment to their designated spaces and offer to help Tora sort the weapons she had collected.

[Highfort]

---

OPERATION: SYNTH - COMPLETE
DIMENSION: 544C
LOCATION: Earth
TEAM: Alpha

---

Opa nodded at Minerva's explanation before turning to Torii, "I do not. Mind at. All. It is my. Duty to. Serve."

After Torii loaded all the newfound firearms onto him via the cloth sacks clinging to its arms, Opa followed the group to the awaiting bathtubs for transport. Sitting atop the supply crates that they'd stacked earlier, the robot waited for everyone else to secure themselves before the bathtubs were flung majestically into the sky, floating up and out of the square hole in the planet to gently flit near the waterfalls.

As mist washed over its damaged face-plate, Opa pondered nothing. Primitive processes indicated that the solar panels on the robot's chest and shoulders were working, slowly recharging the android's batteries thanks to the power of the Gallmaufrian star that shed light upon the planet. Sensors indicated mild damage to Opa's exterior - paint chipping, the usual wear-and-tear - as well as major damage to the riot shield. It would have to be replaced, unfortunately, and more likely than not with an inferior, scrapped-together alternative. The android resolved to be more careful.

The Confederation would have little use for Opa if it returned looking like a bunch of tin cans and garbage pail lids glued together.

"Minerva," Opa queried as the Building came within sight once more, the bathtubs floating over at a leisurely pace to sooth the warriors' nerves, "Do you know. Of any place. To requisition. Confederation parts?"