Personification Life - IC Part VIII [open]

[Urran]

Yoshi made sure that the pressure bandage he had made for himself was still secure, it was, but soaked with a dark blue metallic smelling liquid. Yoshi looked like he had committed a bloody murder. He had it everywhere, how he managed to keep fighting despite this injury surprised him. It was his drive to protect Torii and the adrenaline that had kicked in that had saved him. Octavian WANTED to kill him. He would have taken JOY from it. While Yoshi hated fighting and killing, sometimes it was necessary, if he EVER hurt Tora or anyone that he loved again, the gloves were coming off and Octavian would be the one on the defensive.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"...Wha...? N-Never mind....", Ray began to mumble out as he tried to catch his balance. He stumbled to his feet and leaned against the tube, breathing in heavily. Despite the foul odor in the room, he felt as if he was catching his life back with each breath. Better yet, he was starting to even get used to the horrid stench: aside from the assorted pieces and slabs of glop all over his body, he was fine. Well, that and the recovering nausea.

However, he soon began to notice rather...odd...changes to his body as he looked it over. Glancing down at his hands, the fur felt heavier and thicker: it wasn't merely grown-out human hair, it was almost canine in appearance and touch. The gray fur splattered along his arms and onto his hands, which hosted another change. Ray noticed that his fingernails were now tinted a midnight black, and seemed to be quite pointed. They were almost claw-like in appearance, and touching the tips revealed that they could cause cuts if pressed hard enough.

And thus, several other changes were observed. Ray's tail was now little over two feet in length, and even reacted at a 100% accuracy to the new muscles and nerves that Ray had under his control. Black, claw-like nails were also featured on his feet, which like his hands, remained largely human-like (even still excluding pads). Upon his snout, which felt much more natural for obvious reasons, Ray felt at stubble along his fur-line that could only have been described as the forming of light whisker groupings. Inside of his mouth, razored canines sat amongst his standard human set, and even poked out of his mouth at times.

Checking his tongue by sticking it out, Ray soon was greeted by a longer and somewhat flatter tongue, one that he could fully extend out of his mouth (unlike his former human one). It held density that was not usually found in the canine tongue, yet its length was more attributed to the former than a human's. His new nose was naturally wet, and keen ears could chime in and listen to things not regularly heard when Ray was a mere human.

For he was now truly a furry: something that both excited and somewhat saddened Ray. It was the sign that he'd actually lost some of his humanity, although arguably he'd gained something far better and more of an advantage in return.

...But, the new and improved sight didn't really help him when he spotted hunks of his old flesh sitting on the table, and he once again began to hack out stomach acid at the disgusting and repulsive sight.

"We'll take that as a 'thank you'. I don't know why you mammals choose to express it by distributing your guts across our floor." Gretta said as she picked Ray up by the scruff of his neck and set him upright.

"Don't worry, the price for your return to life has already been paid." Neil assured with a smirk.

The mass of flesh vanished once more but in a shock of energy emitted from overhanging apparatuses that pulled space-time together before letting it go, but with the pile on the other side of the pinch (which was the kitchen).

[Erucia]

"We'll take that as a 'thank you'. I don't know why you mammals choose to express it by distributing your guts across our floor." Gretta said as she picked Ray up by the scruff of his neck and set him upright.

"Don't worry, the price for your return to life has already been paid." Neil assured with a smirk.

The mass of flesh vanished once more but in a shock of energy emitted from overhanging apparatuses that pulled space-time together before letting it go, but with the pile on the other side of the pinch (which was the kitchen).

Ray stumbled around for a few moments when he was plopped back on his feet, trying to regain his balance while holding his head and fighting back the ill feelings that were plaguing him. But after a bit, he found himself recovering. He began to wipe at his fur and gave another disgusted expression, since he clearly wanted to rid of whatever the gunk that was plastered onto his fur was. He hadn't actually noticed whether Albert or Jacob were in the room with him, since his sense of location was still a bit disorientated. All he wanted to do was to go home, take a shower, and maybe get something into his system.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

She didn't mind him picking up the check, her pride being something that she cared little about. "Depends on where you go" she replied as they began to leave "Regalia, Pendragon, and New England are quite sunny,but then theirs places like Reala and Heden that are chemical wastelands filled with rad storms. Seeth is constantly rainy, Aternal is a frozen mountainscape, Talos is entirely industrialized and Natlus is a desert."

"Sounds delightful, I'll have to visit sometime." Arthur replied and now he made his move as they got up to leave.

"How about we find a reason not to put my pant's back on yet." he suggested with a suggestive tone.

[Primordial Luxa]

She didn't mind him picking up the check, her pride being something that she cared little about. "Depends on where you go" she replied as they began to leave "Regalia, Pendragon, and New England are quite sunny,but then theirs places like Reala and Heden that are chemical wastelands filled with rad storms. Seeth is constantly rainy, Aternal is a frozen mountainscape, Talos is entirely industrialized and Natlus is a desert."

"Sounds delightful, I'll have to visit sometime." Arthur replied and now he made his move as they got up to leave.

"How about we find a reason not to put my pant's back on yet." he suggested with a suggestive tone.

She smiles as her skin turns a very bright shade of red covered by the silhouettes of black birds. "My place?" she replies extending a hand and priming her SPADE

[Tiltjuice]

Owing to her user's tiredness at the time, and an error in reading, Dimitrus had to use her wit/bluff to avoid Dia's wrath.

"You bear the mark of Conservators. I know Dora, not personally, through friends. I also know that a man, Luce, I believe, doesn't seem particularly interested in other people. The only other Conservator that I know of is Chrys, so I deducted that it was her. Sorry about that."

Dia grunted. "Then we are friends." He strode forward and bearhugged her, creasing her uniform a bit.

"And now, I believe, I took you from your companions in the hallway back there, so it is my turn to apologize. So we both have people to find, it seems. Would you like to do that separately, or together?" he asked, looking her straight in the eye.

---

The shorter blonde took Hans' arm. Outside of battle, she really looked like nothing special, and they seemed to be just another couple strolling along.

"I'm always game for a drink," she chimed, smiling lightly. "Lead on, then, sir! Let's drink, and then find this Yuri."

Hans was more than happy to comply.

Autumn leaves crunched under their feet as they journeyed to Chaos. The sun was slowly sinking towards the ocean, tinging the pavement orange. The cultist glanced at the Conservator who'd stood bravely to oppose Toshi's minions. Inspiration struck him and he let go of her arm and hopped onto the wooden bench that marked a trolly stop.

He removed his cap, placed it over his hear and cleared his throat.

"Kampf gegen das Böse in der düsteren Nacht
Ihr Leben ... bleibt im Schatten
Ihr Leben ist Opfer.

Sie erfüllt ihre heilige Pflicht
Die Erfüllung Eid ... Diese Schlacht Maiden
Ihr Leben ist Opfer.

Sie tragen die Last der Welt auf ihren Schultern
Aber sie ist immer allein
Ihr Leben ist Opfer.

Sie steht gegen Krieg, furchtlos
Mutig und kühn
Ihr Leben ist Opfer.

Nie Teil dessen, was sie kämpft, um zu sparen
Zeit der Tochter
Ihr Leben ist Opfer.

Ich bin nur ein Mensch
Ich bin nichts im Vergleich zu Ihnen
Ich bin für Sie da."

He bowed, laughing as he put his cap back on.

"Well, now we go for a beer."

Chrys laughed also, applauding lightly. The German poem - she didn't know what it meant, but the sounds carried a power and meaning all by themselves.

Just prior to entering Chaos, she reached up and patted Hans' shoulder affectionately, before opening the door for him.

[Torsiedelle]

The Protegé blinked a few times. She wasnt used to bear-hugs, or physical contact in general...

She guessed that Dia was no real harm. She needed to find Drova and Octavian, though she wouldn't mind joining Dia, either.

"Perhaps together? I still think that it would only be appropriate to check in on my comrades."

[Swith Witherward]

Minerva would awake a few hours (and a house call from Ogoti) later to find herself in her night things and tucked into bed. It was early evening and fading sunlight filtered through the lace curtains to warm her.

The cuckoo clock chimed on the wall beside her. The two-toned note mixed with the laughter of a small child playing in the garden outside their apartment. She would turn three that autumn.

Minerva pressed her face against the cool cotton pillowcase and breathed in. Her lungs felt clear. Her skin didn't feel so badly, either. She pushed herself from the mattress and sat up.

The open window brought autumn scents to her. The Laburnum tree, which always presented the yard with heady perfume in the spring, was slowly loosing its leaves. The branches swayed on the breeze and caused the sunlight to dapple on her sheets. She shuffled out of bed and propped her elbows on the window ledge, looking out into the rest of the garden.

Naomi did a wonderful job tending it. It was almost like a fairytale setting, with gravel footpaths that lead the wanderer on a quiet and contemplative journey through a cottage setting. Minerva had always been impressed by the amount of detail Naomi put into each aspect. She believed the godling did it to give Eva a place to play, although she wasn't sure if the troubled child appreciated the small table and chairs under the dense willow branches, or the toad holes made from broken pottery. Eva was perhaps too old and too scarred to find solace in those things? Minerva wasn't certain.

She craned her neck and spotted a towhead child running down a path of heliotrope still in bloom. The cherry and vanilla flower clusters cast fragrance into the air as the child stooped to touch them. Sophie stood up and babbled something in German before attempting to pluck one of the purple clusters. The woody plant refused to yield and Minerva giggled. That's a losing battle, kiddo, she sighed to herself.

The cultist leader threw on her bathrobe and slippers and opened the French doors leading out into the garden. She still wasn't certain if Klaus was pleased or angry over her impromptu actions.

Yuna, who was, in fact, sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, cared not for her robes which were quite dirty by this time of crawling around. Her book was a bit more full than it was, with various bookmarks sticking out now, for information that would be filled in later. She didn't notice Will until he addressed her.

She only looked up because the accent intrigued her.

"Ello'." She tried imitating the accent while the man explained who he was and who he worked for. She did remember Minerva, the woman who taught her how to make quite the poison. "M-my brother is letting you borrow me? Alright . . . What am I needed for?"

Despite her few concerns, she got up and dusted herself off to follow.

"Great things!" Will responded, but not too loudly so as to spare her tender ears. "Epic things! Things you'll greatly enjoy in epic ways!"

The leaves fell around them and the wind sighed as it passed through the branches of the trees. "Have you ever experienced fall in this nation? It's rather lovely. Come along then, we haven't time to procrastinate." He offered his arm to her.

"Hmm," she huffed, processing everything Yoshi said. Violence against Torii as well? This wouldn't do. Giovenith disliked being mistaken about people she had held in favor, but would not be in denial of the obvious. Words would have to be said, later. "I know, Yoshi. Few people do find fighting fun. You did what you did though, don't dwell on it while you are still bleeding."

They reached the door of the clinic just as one of the paper birds gave a distressed toot, falling to the ground, soaked with Yoshi's blood. The paper just couldn't handle anymore, and more would soon follow. Giovenith had the swarm gently place Yoshi down, before having them disperse off into the halls (she was not recollecting bloody paper; they would either dispose of themselves, or find their way back into her possession).

"Hello?" she called. "Excuse me, person bleeding severely here."

Ogoti had returned to the clinic to put away burn salves and a few other items. His opinion of Minerva's actions was unfathomable, if only because the writer was not his normal handler. He was just locking the bandage cabinet with Giovenith's voice drew him from his thoughts.

He stepped into the main room and spotted her trying to assist Yoshi.

Yoshi! Good fucking grief, couldn't that fellow avoid trouble for a day? Ogoti lifted him and brought him to an exam room, not minding the blood. He laid him down on the table and stared at his face. "Who did we piss off now?"

Chrys laughed also, applauding lightly. The German poem - she didn't know what it meant, but the sounds carried a power and meaning all by themselves.

Just prior to entering Chaos, she reached up and patted Hans' shoulder affectionately, before opening the door for him.

"Danke," he bowed as she opened the door, and stepped inside the restaurant.

It seemed fairly quiet. There was a small group of odd creatures gathered at the bar upstairs. They seemed to be enjoying mead. The cultist peered at Chrys and shrugged. "Shall we go there, or just head downstairs to the main bar?"

The music hadn't started up yet, of course. It was still early evening. The club didn't kick into full swing until after 9 PM.

[The BranRiech]

"Hmm, well, I like great things." Yuna smiled brightly, still imitating the accent of the man who'd come to collect her, because he brother lost a fight. She didn't know though, so ignorance was probably quite blissful for her.

"Fall? I don't believe I know what Fall is, what's falling?" She asked, unfamiliar with earth's surface seasons. She hadn't time to read up on it, and English in books was somewhat confusing to her.

[Giovenith]

"Something about an encounter over Prince Octavian striking his younger sister," explained Giovenith, trotting up but remaining at distance to leave soon. "He told me that he only wanted to talk about it, but that Octavian turned it into a physical confrontation. Yoshi says he won, but as is obvious, badly wounded."

As Yoshi was for sure in good hands, Giovenith was debating just how she would go about with her dealing with Octavian. From her own encounters with the Aksarben prince, she did not believe that he would strike her as well, but then again, she had not believed he would have struck Yoshi or Torii either. Obviously running up to his door just as Yoshi had was out of the question. Silence, however, seemed to her like a negligent response. This would take some thinking.

[Tiltjuice]

The Protegé blinked a few times. She wasnt used to bear-hugs, or physical contact in general...

She guessed that Dia was no real harm. She needed to find Drova and Octavian, though she wouldn't mind joining Dia, either.

"Perhaps together? I still think that it would only be appropriate to check in on my comrades."

Dia nodded. A quick set of long strides took them back to the hallway where Drova and Octavian had been.

"That winged creature appears to have gone," he commented.

Chrys laughed also, applauding lightly. The German poem - she didn't know what it meant, but the sounds carried a power and meaning all by themselves.

Just prior to entering Chaos, she reached up and patted Hans' shoulder affectionately, before opening the door for him.

"Danke," he bowed as she opened the door, and stepped inside the restaurant.

It seemed fairly quiet. There was a small group of odd creatures gathered at the bar upstairs. They seemed to be enjoying mead. The cultist peered at Chrys and shrugged. "Shall we go there, or just head downstairs to the main bar?"

The music hadn't started up yet, of course. It was still early evening. The club didn't kick into full swing until after 9 PM.

The party of creatures seemed rather closed-off. She eyed their weapons, and decided not to bother with starting unnecessary fights. Tonight, anyway.

"How about the main bar? I haven't been down there in quite a while...have you? I don't see many of you in Chaos," Chrys commented, as she made for the staircase.

[New Aksarben]

Ray stumbled around for a few moments when he was plopped back on his feet, trying to regain his balance while holding his head and fighting back the ill feelings that were plaguing him. But after a bit, he found himself recovering. He began to wipe at his fur and gave another disgusted expression, since he clearly wanted to rid of whatever the gunk that was plastered onto his fur was. He hadn't actually noticed whether Albert or Jacob were in the room with him, since his sense of location was still a bit disorientated. All he wanted to do was to go home, take a shower, and maybe get something into his system.

Ray soon would know that Albert was indeed still there. Mainly because the personification's fist impacted with Ray's fuzzy cheek almost out of nowhere. Albert had basically rushed across the room after coming to his senses, and punched Ray in the face. His punch wasn't very rough, though. It could cause a bruise, but that definitely wasn't Albert's intention. He would never deliberately cause Ray harm. But he was not very rational right now. His boyfriend had just came back to life again, after all!

"Dammit Ray! Why did you have to get killed like that! I mean really, what are the chances that a horse would fall on you! I'm not meaning to be rude or anything, but dammit, Ray! I can't live without you! If you actually died, I don't know how I could go on! Just be glad that Jacob and I were able to get the raptors to help...... I.... Ray. I love you. And losing you forever would have been unbearable....But Don't you ever get yourself killed again! The raptors might ask for even more next time! And negotiating with them would be like negotiating with Pluto!"

Tears were streaming down Albert's face as he spoke, continuing for several more minutes about the same stuff. He had been bottling up his frustration and anger and distress about Ray dying so suddenly, and seeing Ray again had made his emotions overflow. He reached the point he even lapsed back into Latin in his words. Albert's entire body trembled, and his tail was lying on the floor behind him. His ears were flat against his head, as well. His face plainly displayed his intense and conflicted feelings about this whole situation. His normal reserved appearance was no where to be found, as he simply couldn't keep these emotions hidden.

Then Albert decided to simply shut up, and embrace his boyfriend. Albert didn't care if Ray was covered in strange goop. He simply wanted to feel Ray's fur again. Hugging him would prove to Albert that Ray was truly back, and hopefully for good this time. Albert continued sobbing as he held onto Ray tightly for several moments. His tail subconsciously wrapped itself around Ray's leg, and his conflicted emotions slowly began to smooth out simply by having contact with Ray again.

After a minute or so, Albert grabbed a hold of Ray's face with one of his hands, and kissed him. He continued sobbing as he did so, but it was more tears of joy now than anything. After breaking it, he stared slightly upwards at Ray's eyes. He had calmed down enough by now to speak more coherently and calmly, so he did so. "Puppy.... Raymond..... I'm so damn glad your back. I know you weren't gone very long, but just the same. I missed you intensely. Please don't get yourself killed again. I couldn't stand it another time. And I don't think I could really join you in death...."


Meanwhile, Jacob thought it would be best to take his leave of this and head back to the building to get clothes. And to possibly find Dora. Mainly because he wanted to ask her a few things. And discuss the things that his... ehem... 'episode' a while ago(y'know, when he kicked Albert out the window?) had brought to the surface of his mind. He simply had to talk them out with someone, and Dora seemed like the best idea, seeing as some of them concerned her. So the personification looked over to Neil and Gretta, partially to make sure they were still in the room before speaking.

"Neil, Gretta, Thanks for reviving Ray for my brother. I don't think he'll remember to thank you, so I might as well do so for him. He seems quite happy that Ray's back anyway. Also, I think its about time I head back to the Building to get some clothes on and to find my other friends. Thanks for everything though." He gave a deep bow of respect to the two. They had helped him and his brother twice now, and that made Jacob afford them quite a deal of respect. "Now, um.... Which way is the way to the front door?"

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

Ray soon would know that Albert was indeed still there. Mainly because the personification's fist impacted with Ray's fuzzy cheek almost out of nowhere. Albert had basically rushed across the room after coming to his senses, and punched Ray in the face. His punch wasn't very rough, though. It could cause a bruise, but that definitely wasn't Albert's intention. He would never deliberately cause Ray harm. But he was not very rational right now. His boyfriend had just came back to life again, after all!

"Dammit Ray! Why did you have to get killed like that! I mean really, what are the chances that a horse would fall on you! I'm not meaning to be rude or anything, but dammit, Ray! I can't live without you! If you actually died, I don't know how I could go on! Just be glad that Jacob and I were able to get the raptors to help...... I.... Ray. I love you. And losing you forever would have been unbearable....But Don't you ever get yourself killed again! The raptors might ask for even more next time! And negotiating with them would be like negotiating with Pluto!"

Tears were streaming down Albert's face as he spoke, continuing for several more minutes about the same stuff. He had been bottling up his frustration and anger and distress about Ray dying so suddenly, and seeing Ray again had made his emotions overflow. He reached the point he even lapsed back into Latin in his words. Albert's entire body trembled, and his tail was lying on the floor behind him. His ears were flat against his head, as well. His face plainly displayed his intense and conflicted feelings about this whole situation. His normal reserved appearance was no where to be found, as he simply couldn't keep these emotions hidden.

Then Albert decided to simply shut up, and embrace his boyfriend. Albert didn't care if Ray was covered in strange goop. He simply wanted to feel Ray's fur again. Hugging him would prove to Albert that Ray was truly back, and hopefully for good this time. Albert continued sobbing as he held onto Ray tightly for several moments. His tail subconsciously wrapped itself around Ray's leg, and his conflicted emotions slowly began to smooth out simply by having contact with Ray again.

After a minute or so, Albert grabbed a hold of Ray's face with one of his hands, and kissed him. He continued sobbing as he did so, but it was more tears of joy now than anything. After breaking it, he stared slightly upwards at Ray's eyes. He had calmed down enough by now to speak more coherently and calmly, so he did so. "Puppy.... Raymond..... I'm so damn glad your back. I know you weren't gone very long, but just the same. I missed you intensely. Please don't get yourself killed again. I couldn't stand it another time. And I don't think I could really join you in death...."


Meanwhile, Jacob thought it would be best to take his leave of this and head back to the building to get clothes. And to possibly find Dora. Mainly because he wanted to ask her a few things. And discuss the things that his... ehem... 'episode' a while ago(y'know, when he kicked Albert out the window?) had brought to the surface of his mind. He simply had to talk them out with someone, and Dora seemed like the best idea, seeing as some of them concerned her. So the personification looked over to Neil and Gretta, partially to make sure they were still in the room before speaking.

"Neil, Gretta, Thanks for reviving Ray for my brother. I don't think he'll remember to thank you, so I might as well do so for him. He seems quite happy that Ray's back anyway. Also, I think its about time I head back to the Building to get some clothes on and to find my other friends. Thanks for everything though." He gave a deep bow of respect to the two. They had helped him and his brother twice now, and that made Jacob afford them quite a deal of respect. "Now, um.... Which way is the way to the front door?"

Although they didn't take the Pluto comment lightly, the let it slide. They did not ming that their guests were indecent, because clothes were merely a status symbol to them, and right now they were feeling pretty superior with labcoats and suits.

"You are welcome, it is but a hobby of course. Scarface will show you out." Neil answered as the towering brute opened the door.

The two held back their grins as they were thanked, shown resect. They may have been far from good upstanding individuals, but they were not entirely vicious malevolent monsters either. Even through their bizarre logic, respect was respected.

"And don't forget that you all are welcome to join us for dinner." Gretta added as the hallway back to the front door seemed much shorter than coming in.

[Swith Witherward]

"Something about an encounter over Prince Octavian striking his younger sister," explained Giovenith, trotting up but remaining at distance to leave soon. "He told me that he only wanted to talk about it, but that Octavian turned it into a physical confrontation. Yoshi says he won, but as is obvious, badly wounded."

As Yoshi was for sure in good hands, Giovenith was debating just how she would go about with her dealing with Octavian. From her own encounters with the Aksarben prince, she did not believe that he would strike her as well, but then again, she had not believed he would have struck Yoshi or Torii either. Obviously running up to his door just as Yoshi had was out of the question. Silence, however, seemed to her like a negligent response. This would take some thinking.

Ogoti rolled his eyes once he was sure Giovenith was looking the other direction. He believed her of course, and he believed that Yoshi felt he was doing the right thing, but Ogoti also knew everything wasn't always what it seemed on the surface. Giovenith's words led him to believe that she hadn't actually witnessed the fight.

He thwacked Yoshi's forehead with his finger (thus casting him into a deep sleep) and began to cut away Yoshi's pant leg in order to better examine the wound. He allowed his thoughts to wander as he worked.

Yoshi didn't have a younger sister. He hung with the Nikanors and Dora's lover and her sister. Rylli had passed by not too long ago and seemed in perfect health. That left the other two girls. And if it were Torii? Well, she had a habit of getting into situations. He wondered if she actually enjoyed being battered, given her relationship with the half-demon-half-angel.

And then there was the rumor mill... AKA the Cultist Hotline. News spread through their numbers faster than a flame in a dusty library, and it wasn't to their advantage to lie. Word in the halls was that Yoshi had left his dwelling for the purpose of confronting the prince. He'd arrived on his doorstep. The prince's initial words were curt, but not too out of line for his personality and for having his nap interrupted. However, the prince's dull expression had changed to wrath after Yoshi tore into him... not once, but twice, instead of simply attempting to talk it out. He'd called the prince a snake and a worm, and then attempted to one up him by stating he was the son of a goddess. Bad move. Especially as he was claiming to have status in a pantheon known for fucking over the universe on an hourly basis. Ogoti vaguely wondered if Yoshi was even aware of the fact that Chaos tended to embrace people like the prince, and to foster mentalities like his. It didn't matter.

"He didn't win," Ogoti replied to Giovenith at last. "He was the one who was still walking at the end of the confrontation, nothing more. In fact, he lost because he fashioned a foe for himself. Not only that, but he brought my pantheon into it by claiming lineage. And now you're involved as well. And for what? Vigilante justice. The prince was wrong to attack Torii. He was out of line. He would have been in for a world of hurt had she reported the attack to the proper authorities. Instead, Yoshi took it on himself to confront a person known for unpredictable violence. I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling any inclination for sympathy. This would have been the perfect lesson for him had he not involved pantheons. That said, stooping to Octavian's barbaric level only makes Yoshi just as barbaric."

Ogoti cleaned the wound and packed it, and then forced a strange capsule down Yoshi's throat (it would work to aid his body in replacing the lost blood) but he left the wound to heal on its own. The sting would remind him not to be so foolish for a few days, and the scar would remind him that words often lead to unintended results. He tapped Yoshi's forehead again to wake him up.

"Alright, let me get some antibiotic for you. Bite wounds are notorious for getting infected, otherwise. It's been cleaned out but you'll limp for a week or two."

He began counting capsules and transferring them to a plastic prescription bottle. Once finished, he affixed a label with instructions and handed the bottle to Yoshi. "Twice a day, with a meal. And stay off it for a few days. You'll be in pain, of course. Let that be a lesson to you."

[Erucia]

Ray soon would know that Albert was indeed still there. Mainly because the personification's fist impacted with Ray's fuzzy cheek almost out of nowhere. Albert had basically rushed across the room after coming to his senses, and punched Ray in the face. His punch wasn't very rough, though. It could cause a bruise, but that definitely wasn't Albert's intention. He would never deliberately cause Ray harm. But he was not very rational right now. His boyfriend had just came back to life again, after all!

"Dammit Ray! Why did you have to get killed like that! I mean really, what are the chances that a horse would fall on you! I'm not meaning to be rude or anything, but dammit, Ray! I can't live without you! If you actually died, I don't know how I could go on! Just be glad that Jacob and I were able to get the raptors to help...... I.... Ray. I love you. And losing you forever would have been unbearable....But Don't you ever get yourself killed again! The raptors might ask for even more next time! And negotiating with them would be like negotiating with Pluto!"

Tears were streaming down Albert's face as he spoke, continuing for several more minutes about the same stuff. He had been bottling up his frustration and anger and distress about Ray dying so suddenly, and seeing Ray again had made his emotions overflow. He reached the point he even lapsed back into Latin in his words. Albert's entire body trembled, and his tail was lying on the floor behind him. His ears were flat against his head, as well. His face plainly displayed his intense and conflicted feelings about this whole situation. His normal reserved appearance was no where to be found, as he simply couldn't keep these emotions hidden.

Then Albert decided to simply shut up, and embrace his boyfriend. Albert didn't care if Ray was covered in strange goop. He simply wanted to feel Ray's fur again. Hugging him would prove to Albert that Ray was truly back, and hopefully for good this time. Albert continued sobbing as he held onto Ray tightly for several moments. His tail subconsciously wrapped itself around Ray's leg, and his conflicted emotions slowly began to smooth out simply by having contact with Ray again.

After a minute or so, Albert grabbed a hold of Ray's face with one of his hands, and kissed him. He continued sobbing as he did so, but it was more tears of joy now than anything. After breaking it, he stared slightly upwards at Ray's eyes. He had calmed down enough by now to speak more coherently and calmly, so he did so. "Puppy.... Raymond..... I'm so damn glad your back. I know you weren't gone very long, but just the same. I missed you intensely. Please don't get yourself killed again. I couldn't stand it another time. And I don't think I could really join you in death...."


Meanwhile, Jacob thought it would be best to take his leave of this and head back to the building to get clothes. And to possibly find Dora. Mainly because he wanted to ask her a few things. And discuss the things that his... ehem... 'episode' a while ago(y'know, when he kicked Albert out the window?) had brought to the surface of his mind. He simply had to talk them out with someone, and Dora seemed like the best idea, seeing as some of them concerned her. So the personification looked over to Neil and Gretta, partially to make sure they were still in the room before speaking.

"Neil, Gretta, Thanks for reviving Ray for my brother. I don't think he'll remember to thank you, so I might as well do so for him. He seems quite happy that Ray's back anyway. Also, I think its about time I head back to the Building to get some clothes on and to find my other friends. Thanks for everything though." He gave a deep bow of respect to the two. They had helped him and his brother twice now, and that made Jacob afford them quite a deal of respect. "Now, um.... Which way is the way to the front door?"

Having just gotten back up onto his feet and stabilized somewhat, Ray was feeling that he was getting back on track and could continue on with his attempts. However, this was disrupted by the blow delivered to the side of his face. It knocked him off balance and sent him waddling backwards like an overwhelmed penguin, and he barely succeeded in regaining what little balance he had before toppling over onto one of the various assorted objects of science within the room.

This was a rather odd greeting from your lover, who was supposed to miss you dearly. Ray looked incredibly upset, considering that he'd gone through an awful lot to come back to this nonsense. He kept at a distance of a half-meter away from Albert, listening in to the rambling that his lover devolved into. It was depressing yet somewhat reassuring that his death could cause this to Albert, but Ray was quickly growing tired of the yelling treatment he was receiving. It was as if he'd been pulled back from beyond the brink, and the only thing that the person he cared about the most all of a sudden was yelling in convoluted and improper sentences.

Ray was getting quite tired of listening to it, and his love was even being broken away by gradual annoyance and dislike. But, it was all set back when Albert turned his actions around and simply did what Ray'd expected (and wanted) in the first place. The well-placed kiss, the love-talk: it was bringing down Ray's nerves and keeping him from setting off too badly. But more than that, his emotions on the loving side of his heart were brought to bear, and he soon began to sob into Albert's arms. The self-pitied grey fox, weeping against his sobbing love.

"...O-Oh shut up, for fuck's sake....", he muttered out through chokes, eventually bringing his head into full-contact with Albert's. Reddened eyes displayed a strange anger in them, brought on by the sudden treatment. "S-Stop it with the stupid cr-crap you're giving me now...The hell do I de-deserve this for? I get brought back from Heaven so that you can beat me and scream at me? Is this your id-idea of a good welcoming?!

"What the hell is wrong wi-with you? Don't give me this half-angry, ha-...half-sobbing act! I love y-you, for Christ's sake. But don't think that I'll put up with you treating me like your stuffed wolf!", Ray's frustration at the immediate situation melted on in. Set off by the flurry of emotions entering into the fray, the angered and confused side took over as he shoved Albert back with all of his power: his new body didn't include any of the wear and tear that the old one did, and thus it contained rather potent strength. It was quickly turning into a scene in the lab, one that was quickly offsetting the hospitality offered by the raptors.

[Torsiedelle]

"A walk, huh?"

Katya strolled into the kitchen area and reached into the cabinet. A few seconds later, she set a small bag on the counter, and produced two tea bags.

"Walks are nice. I think I'll just be staying here, or looking for my boyfriend....it's still Tora's birthday, so I think I'll be staying here. I'll make some tea and whatever else she wants...oh, do you, um, want some clothes?"
.....

"God damn it ", Dimitrus sighed. "And it's only been a few minutes at best..."

She was frustrated all over again, for being suddenly dragged from her gathering.

But at least she could help find Chrys. She wasn't particularly excited for that, either.

[Tiltjuice]

Dora bit back the first half-dozen jokes that sprang to mind, in an effort to maintain a bit of her cool-as-in-stoic image. Settling for smiling a Mona Lisa smile, she nodded. "Unless there's something you wanted while I'm still out of them. If not, where's the computer? Then, after, a walk. Putting the letter in Ray's mailbox and all."

She checked to make sure Tora and Tsu weren't looking, somewhat guiltily aware of her first interaction with the Dimitrova sisters. Tora didn't seem to mind, but if Tsu knew, Dora would probably have a fight on her hands...which would only bring in Chrys and Luce and Katya. Better to avoid the whole mess altogether. Besides, she was rather done sharing herself with people. Four was enough, especially when one of them was standing in front of her. Adding family drama to relationship drama would be a horrendous train wreck.

---

Dia turned his head and looked at Dimitrus. "The other man is still there, is he not? Who is he? He dresses like a Roman."

[Swith Witherward]

The party of creatures seemed rather closed-off. She eyed their weapons, and decided not to bother with starting unnecessary fights. Tonight, anyway.

"How about the main bar? I haven't been down there in quite a while...have you? I don't see many of you in Chaos," Chrys commented, as she made for the staircase.

"Hehehe!" Hans couldn't help it. There was some irony in her statement. The former-Nazis were hard to spot, certainly, but not seeing many of them in Chaos (the pantheon itself) was an indication that they were doing an excellent job with their subterfuge.

"We're all over Chaos," he replied as they went down the steps, "But we're banned in the restaurant and bar itself. For one, we have large numbers. For another, we had our own bar in the Vaffelhelm ruins before the division between Klaus and Atosh. It was a lovely spot, I think. Very much a 1930's officer's club. We even had period entertainment. But now? Well, you saw the state of our quarters. It's dull. Life is dull. We need a new cabaret. But where? Where do you find a place for hundreds of men in Nazi uniforms to go without drawing attention to themselves?"

He sat at the bar and ordered them a pitcher of beer. "It isn't like we can take the uniforms off for long. We can't. They're part of what keeps us intact. That's why they shift with us. Some of us can go a long while without one. I can. But others? No. They remain in the uniforms and only take them off to bathe, and that doesn't happen often. The uniform stops the daemons from mutating their hosts' bodies. Mineva's lads are the same. So are Fritz's men."

The cultist rested his elbows on the bar and peered at Chrys. "But maybe your group is the same? You're time cops all the time, in uniform all the time, a job to do. Just like the poem, ja? You're alone because the uniform forms you. Dipping a toe into the real world means having to take the uniform off, in a sense. It's your sacrifice, ja? To serve, to work, to battle for people who don't even realize you're there, and to do so knowing that they'll either disbelieve in what you are or else see you as something other than who you are inside. So, the uniform becomes everything. And Chrys, just like Hans, does her duty first and sacrifices all else. It's a dull life. Sure, we make friends with people outside our organizations, but they never really understand us. And, they grow old and die while we remain the same. Gets lonely, without only your brothers to talk to."

[New Aksarben]

Having just gotten back up onto his feet and stabilized somewhat, Ray was feeling that he was getting back on track and could continue on with his attempts. However, this was disrupted by the blow delivered to the side of his face. It knocked him off balance and sent him waddling backwards like an overwhelmed penguin, and he barely succeeded in regaining what little balance he had before toppling over onto one of the various assorted objects of science within the room.

This was a rather odd greeting from your lover, who was supposed to miss you dearly. Ray looked incredibly upset, considering that he'd gone through an awful lot to come back to this nonsense. He kept at a distance of a half-meter away from Albert, listening in to the rambling that his lover devolved into. It was depressing yet somewhat reassuring that his death could cause this to Albert, but Ray was quickly growing tired of the yelling treatment he was receiving. It was as if he'd been pulled back from beyond the brink, and the only thing that the person he cared about the most all of a sudden was yelling in convoluted and improper sentences.

Ray was getting quite tired of listening to it, and his love was even being broken away by gradual annoyance and dislike. But, it was all set back when Albert turned his actions around and simply did what Ray'd expected (and wanted) in the first place. The well-placed kiss, the love-talk: it was bringing down Ray's nerves and keeping him from setting off too badly. But more than that, his emotions on the loving side of his heart were brought to bear, and he soon began to sob into Albert's arms. The self-pitied grey fox, weeping against his sobbing love.

"...O-Oh shut up, for fuck's sake....", he muttered out through chokes, eventually bringing his head into full-contact with Albert's. Reddened eyes displayed a strange anger in them, brought on by the sudden treatment. "S-Stop it with the stupid cr-crap you're giving me now...The hell do I de-deserve this for? I get brought back from Heaven so that you can beat me and scream at me? Is this your id-idea of a good welcoming?!

"What the hell is wrong wi-with you? Don't give me this half-angry, ha-...half-sobbing act! I love y-you, for Christ's sake. But don't think that I'll put up with you treating me like your stuffed wolf!", Ray's frustration at the immediate situation melted on in. Set off by the flurry of emotions entering into the fray, the angered and confused side took over as he shoved Albert back with all of his power: his new body didn't include any of the wear and tear that the old one did, and thus it contained rather potent strength. It was quickly turning into a scene in the lab, one that was quickly offsetting the hospitality offered by the raptors.

"S-Sorry, Ray..... I'm more mad at myself for not being able to protect you, really.... I didn't mean to hurt you at all. I'm just having quite a hard time controlling my emotions than anything. I'm not mad at you at all. I just.... Sorry." Albert shrunk back from Ray. He really didn't mean to piss Ray off. He just wasn't used to many of these feelings. And his kind of habitual reaction to strange emotions was to distract himself with violence. So he kind of did something incredibly stupid by shouting at Ray and punching him.

"I'm really sorry. I've never had someone as important as you to me die before. I really had no idea what to do.... so I kinda just fell back into old habits, I suppose..... I'll just head back to the apartment with Jacob...." Albert really had no idea what to say to Ray to make up for this, or what to do. So he thought it might be best to leave him alone for now. So He quietly headed over to Jacob, before looking back at Ray. "Unless you want to follow us.... Because I certainly don't want to hang around in someone else's house naked, so I'm guessing you might not want to either...."

He really wanted to hug Ray more, but he guessed he might have screwed up quite royally with this. He just hoped Ray would forgive him eventually. Albert realized he should have really have done something else when Ray had been revived, but he had chosen instead to let his anger at himself show up first. And for some reason had chosen to punch Ray. Albert looked towards the floor instead of at Ray's face directly, because he was worried he had messed up way too badly and drove Ray away from him.

Although they didn't take the Pluto comment lightly, the let it slide. They did not ming that their guests were indecent, because clothes were merely a status symbol to them, and right now they were feeling pretty superior with labcoats and suits.

"You are welcome, it is but a hobby of course. Scarface will show you out." Neil answered as the towering brute opened the door.

The two held back their grins as they were thanked, shown resect. They may have been far from good upstanding individuals, but they were not entirely vicious malevolent monsters either. Even through their bizarre logic, respect was respected.

"And don't forget that you all are welcome to join us for dinner." Gretta added as the hallway back to the front door seemed much shorter than coming in.

"Well, if you mean actual dinner, where we eat something that's, firstly, not human nor you eat me, then sure. But maybe some other time. Its been a long day, and I might need to get to work fixing some of the things in our apartment that got trashed when we were raptors earlier. Thanks for that as well, by the way. I don't think that many of the others thanked you in person for that, really." Jacob said politely, looking over towards Ray and Albert, and then over to the door. He scooted over a bit closer to the hallway. But not too much as he guessed the conversation between him and the raptors might last a bit longer. Or at least Ray and Albert might continue talking for a bit longer. JAcob really didn't know which might take longer of the two.

---

[Torsiedelle]

"Oh, please...I'd rather save your beauty for later.", Katya replied. "Maybe once Tora has gone? As for the laptop, it's under the bed, on the right side."

She went back to her business with the tea.


...

"Prince Octavian of Aksarben, I believe.", Dimitrus mumbled. She wasn't very fond of the man yet, though she didn't think he could be that bad.

[AETEN II]

A flood of memories rushed into Volturius' brain, none of which were pleasant and all of which stung with the potency of a severe burn further raked across hot coals. Burying the forced exile and betrayal of his brothers was impossible- its remaining lurking shadow was incapable of being banished, only the pleasantries of worshiping the Prince of Excess staved off the memories. Ironic, considering it was adherence to Chaos dogma and worship of the Dark Gods that caused his brothers to force him from the warband in the first place.

"I'd rather not unearth the memories of such a painful and dishonorable variety. It is only through service and distraction that I am able to prevent myself from reflecting upon them daily, and it is a struggle enough." Volturius hissed with a slightly venomous tone- although not directed at Tipper, and rather at the memories of his brothers. More notable, if not frightening was his knuckles- devoid even of his pale color of skin. Clenched tightly, Tipper, even with foggy eyes or the trace of a hand, could sense the bulged veins that erupted from his knuckles out of tension caused by the retrieval of the damned memories.

A warm hand caressed Volturius’ face. Tipper’s fingertips traced the frown that had formed on his brow before brushing his temple to settle on his cheek. The static in their tether troubled her more than even his blanched knuckles and angry hiss. It brought goosebumps to her naked flesh.

“Listen. Listen! Pain becomes pleasure, beloved. No memory can pain you if you embrace it. To deny it is to deny the aching behind it. To do that is to overlook the perfection to be gained from accepting it. No act, no savagery, no crime, no lament and no sorrow is so great that the Prince of Pleasure can’t use it to hone your mind. Distraction is of Tze. Denying it while serving is the mantra of Khorne’s pissants. Festering in it is the craft of Nurgle.”

She placed her other hand on his opposite cheek but she lacked the strength to move his head. The ropy muscles in his neck held more power than her tiny arms could ever hope to overcome. Instead, she allowed her touch to become an extension of her heart. It was forceful and fierce, a manifestation of her pride in him.

“You listen to me, Lord Volturius, Chapter Master. I am Calista of Usseio. I am a Seer. I know my craft. That boy, Zion? The one who Hears just as I See? He knew. Maybe you don’t realize it, but I know pain. I remember. I carry painful memories. I recall what occurred when my previous mate died. I see things and recall things and hear the hydraulics as that fucking menace mowed them all down. I am Calista of Usseio, and I allowed that pain to blight my thoughts until all I knew was that sound. Tipper: I named myself after the thing that tore my soul and crushed my heart. Now I bear that name with better understanding. I am Tipper. I overcame that thing. I bear the sound of death because I didn’t know what it meant to live until I’d endured that crucible. My pain is my fuel.

“Are you listening, beloved? Are you hearing?” Her prismatic eyes bored into his and her face became stern despite her gentle beauty. She would never have dared to challenge any Astartes in such a way, but Volturius was more than an Astartes. He was her heart’s treasure and confidant. He was the center of her world, more significant to her than even her devotion to her god.

“Yet you spoke of dishonor just now with a tongue that wasn’t gifted to you until that fateful day that brought you into my life? Whatever past dishonor exists, our god obviously was willing to forgive it. Forgive yourself. Tear open that wound and let the pain fully manifest. Volturius will never walk alone so long as his Calista stands beside him. I will hold the pain of those memories for you. I’ll bear the pain of an entire legion and not quell. That is my power, beloved, and meaning no disrespect, but it’s about damn time you understood the gift our god gave you when he brought us together."

"Your forked tongue harkens to more than simple appearance. While I am willing to tell of my betrayal by my brothers, you are no permitted to rip the memory from me and bear it in my stead. Contrary to belief, not all pains can be rendered pleasurable via teachings of Slaanesh- especially memories such as mine." Volturius instructed strictly to Tipper, while maintaining a sense of patience and a slight loving tone. Relaxed a bit by her rather excessive attempt to coerce the information out of him, the Astartes released his elbows and rested, staring up at the ceiling.

"To fully understand the extent of which their betrayal extends- you must first realize that only a fool would think themselves the sole child of an Astartes gifted by Slaanesh and surrounded by Legion serfs. I was born sometime around the 32nd or 33rd millennium, and there was plenty of time for him to likely see to a good portion of the second generation of Night Lords in our warband were both his brothers and actual sons. I wouldn't be surprised if a significant chunk of the twenty or so that were added to the warband around my time of augmentation were my literal brothers. Irregardless of this, our bond is as close as that of any Night Lord (which is an unstable one likely incomprehensible to you or any other member of the Legion). In short, I was forcibly exiled. While their pathetic selves were busy squabbling over petty loot and titles, I was busy cultivating favor of the Dark Gods, and thus, their gifts."

Volturius paused, straining himself from verbally lashing out at his brother's hypocrisy. It was obvious to him that they were just as mutated as he was. Only unlike him, who bore physical gifts of the four Gods of Chaos- their corruption was internal. Likely insidious warping of their minds by the Raven God and even Slaanesh manipulating them as well- sowing jealousy and self-righteous thoughts. Either their forcing of his exile was either spawned by jealousy (which he somewhat enjoyed, although knew it was a vain chance), or wished his removal as a potential obstacle in their own quests of ascension. These thoughts however were not exclusively Volturius', and they most certainly slowly trickled through the psychic link with Tipper.

"The Night Lords are a.. paranoid Legion, spawned by our origin as a murderous band of superstitious thieves and cutthroats. While Nostramo was fully obliterated- each of our ships carried with it a tiny seed of the planet's culture with us, the Chaos-Astartes, and the small cities of civilians aboard each ship. Our politics are also cutthroat in nature, and the Legion's views on Chaos are varied at best. Some Warbands are fully devoted entirely to the service of Chaos Undivided. Others sway towards service of a specific god while maintaining the favor of the other three. Others practice a hypocritical policy of squashing Chaos taint while elevating their status among the Gods. I unfortunately was of that warband. While my favor was great- this gained obvious attention. Not only did my brothers incorrectly fear my evolution into a hideous spawn (or likely falsely tried to cultivate such thoughts amongst the warband), or wished my removal for being a threat or obstacle to whatever schemes they might have crafted. I lack the knowledge of it. All I know was that my greatest kin of the warband, my warband, informed me of the danger I was in. So I fled on a small transport and later boarded a small Strike Cruiser bound for space held by the Black Legion fleet at that time. I am thankful not only for the derailment of my trip in order to meet you, but also for preventing me from having to spend the rest of my life with those dogs of Abaddon. Thinking back- the Word Bearers would have made a far greater choice, for they are among the few that truly appreciate Chaos and always welcome all of its touch."

[Swith Witherward]

"Hmm, well, I like great things." Yuna smiled brightly, still imitating the accent of the man who'd come to collect her, because he brother lost a fight. She didn't know though, so ignorance was probably quite blissful for her.

"Fall? I don't believe I know what Fall is, what's falling?" She asked, unfamiliar with earth's surface seasons. She hadn't time to read up on it, and English in books was somewhat confusing to her.

“Fall,” William replied as he tucked her arm into the crook of his own. “It refers to the fall of the leaves, and so many English speakers, predominantly those in America, use it to describe autumn. And autumn, my dear, that that time of the year when the air turns crisp and all of nature prepares to for winter slumber. It’s the end of summer, and time for people to harvest the last crops. Hay and corn, which serve as feed for cattle and other livestock. Apples and pears, which are good to eat. Nuts, which tide us over and taste heavenly when roasted on the fire. And, of course, roots and bulbs, such as onions and potatoes. These are a staple in many diets.

“Winter is nice too. All the land is cold, and instead of rain, the water freezes and falls as snow. The surface world is most beautiful in autumn and winter, in my opinion. But, you’ll learn about the seasons soon enough.”

They’d only walked a short distance when Will pointed to a trap door sitting in the middle of the forest; it certainly hadn’t been there when Yuna and her companions had come down the trail earlier.

“All the mysteries of the garden, and the murmurs of countless ages upon the lips of mystics,” Will said as they stepped onto the wood barrier. Yuna might have wondered what he meant but that thought was probably wicked away a second later when they tumbled right through the material and fell for what felt like a whole minute.

They emerged from a fireplace in what seemed to be a tiny communal area, the walls cast in umber tones and the area lit by bare candles and various sconces. They crossed the small room and came upon a heavy door which almost appeared to be made of petrified wood.

It swung upon large hinges and Yuna found herself looking into a large bedroom and adjoining bath with a small wading pool, shower, sink and toilet.

“I’m sure you don’t mind the orange, or that it’s subterranean,” Will smiled. “It’s plenty as far as accommodations go, downright luxurious considering we’re tight on room. Enjoy your stay. I’ll come collect you at breakfast. Your training will begin then.”

With that, he gave her a gentle shove into the room and then closed the door behind her. There wasn’t any knob on the inside. Her ears were treated to the sound of a heavy lock tumbling shut.

The room contained fruits and nuts, and a bottle of wine. The small closets weren't locked and Yuna could pull out extra blankets, if she so wished. There were also some uniforms there, typical of what Minerva's lads wore. The backs of the shirts had slits for her wings.

There weren’t any windows, however. There were also no other means out.

[Tiltjuice]

"Gah!" Drova punched a wall again, nearly breaking at least something in it. He glided into his bed and buried his face in the pillows, trimmed Orange, like quite a bit of the things in his room. He hadn't any statues of himself though, so in his eyes, it was a simple room. But then again, he never wanted any of himself anyways and-

Wait, he was going to lose his sister! Why was he thinking about statues?!

There was a series of sharp raps at the door. A voice called out, "Delivery!" in a thick Cuban accent.

"Oh, please...I'd rather save your beauty for later.", Katya replied. "Maybe once Tora has gone? As for the laptop, it's under the bed, on the right side."

She went back to her business with the tea.

Dora nodded quizzically to herself. An odd place to keep the computer, she thought, but there were plenty of customs and practices odd in the building. She didn't bother to dress, in part out of courtesy as she didn't want to dig through Katya's clothes. Fishing the laptop out, opening it and turning it on, she considered.

A lengthy but rapid series of taps had her letter written shortly thereafter, and she looked across to her aristocratic girlfriend. "Done. Where's the printer? I can go get this in hard copy and dropped off while you shower."

"Prince Octavian of Aksarben, I believe.", Dimitrus mumbled. She wasn't very fond of the man yet, though she didn't think he could be that bad.

Dia glanced curiously at Dimitrus. "Is there bad blood between you and he, white-hair?"

"Hehehe!" Hans couldn't help it. There was some irony in her statement. The former-Nazis were hard to spot, certainly, but not seeing many of them in Chaos (the pantheon itself) was an indication that they were doing an excellent job with their subterfuge.

"We're all over Chaos," he replied as they went down the steps, "But we're banned in the restaurant and bar itself. For one, we have large numbers. For another, we had our own bar in the Vaffelhelm ruins before the division between Klaus and Atosh. It was a lovely spot, I think. Very much a 1930's officer's club. We even had period entertainment. But now? Well, you saw the state of our quarters. It's dull. Life is dull. We need a new cabaret. But where? Where do you find a place for hundreds of men in Nazi uniforms to go without drawing attention to themselves?"

He sat at the bar and ordered them a pitcher of beer. "It isn't like we can take the uniforms off for long. We can't. They're part of what keeps us intact. That's why they shift with us. Some of us can go a long while without one. I can. But others? No. They remain in the uniforms and only take them off to bathe, and that doesn't happen often. The uniform stops the daemons from mutating their hosts' bodies. Mineva's lads are the same. So are Fritz's men."

The cultist rested his elbows on the bar and peered at Chrys. "But maybe your group is the same? You're time cops all the time, in uniform all the time, a job to do. Just like the poem, ja? You're alone because the uniform forms you. Dipping a toe into the real world means having to take the uniform off, in a sense. It's your sacrifice, ja? To serve, to work, to battle for people who don't even realize you're there, and to do so knowing that they'll either disbelieve in what you are or else see you as something other than who you are inside. So, the uniform becomes everything. And Chrys, just like Hans, does her duty first and sacrifices all else. It's a dull life. Sure, we make friends with people outside our organizations, but they never really understand us. And, they grow old and die while we remain the same. Gets lonely, without only your brothers to talk to."

The normally effervescent Conservator paused on her bar stool and thought seriously, with a mien far closer to Luce's air of quiet contemplation. It was true, she thought, Hans' words. The words of her own reply dropped, one at a time, into the relatively still air of the club.

"It is what it is...we didn't sign up for the glory, you and I. At the end of it all, that's not such a bad thing, is it? To live or die in a noble cause?" She paused to gaze down at her reflection in the polished bar top. Yet unchanged, those eyes. Unmarred by wrinkles at the corners. No true white in the white-golden hair. All despite the fact that those who had been seen through the eyes, those who had given her a new name and a new sense of self, were long gone to the ravages of time. Was this what had prompted Dora to quit while she could? An attempt to make a life for herself among friends who would share her remaining lifespan?

"Troopers like myself rarely get called out to deal with ordinary people. If that happens, the situation is really, truly dire," Chrys said, as much to herself as to Hans. "The last time I left our main barracks was seventy years ago. Up until the invasions by the King in Yellow and the Drones, I haven't talked to someone who isn't a Conservator. Or fought with, or slept with. Something of a - No, it is a travesty, plain and simple. It's why I envy Luce and Dora for what they're able to do. Break away from us because he's supposed to travel the world, and she's daring enough to give up eternal life for love. I can't, and won't. But I'm thankful for the chance to be here, if only because I can get to know Hans. It's a start. We're both from these people, but no longer of them, and so we both tend to think of them as apart from us."

She signaled the bartender for a round of beers. The conversation was, as always, best continued over alcohol.

[Swith Witherward]

The normally effervescent Conservator paused on her bar stool and thought seriously, with a mien far closer to Luce's air of quiet contemplation. It was true, she thought, Hans' words. The words of her own reply dropped, one at a time, into the relatively still air of the club.

"It is what it is...we didn't sign up for the glory, you and I. At the end of it all, that's not such a bad thing, is it? To live or die in a noble cause?" She paused to gaze down at her reflection in the polished bar top. Yet unchanged, those eyes. Unmarred by wrinkles at the corners. No true white in the white-golden hair. All despite the fact that those who had been seen through the eyes, those who had given her a new name and a new sense of self, were long gone to the ravages of time. Was this what had prompted Dora to quit while she could? An attempt to make a life for herself among friends who would share her remaining lifespan?

"Troopers like myself rarely get called out to deal with ordinary people. If that happens, the situation is really, truly dire," Chrys said, as much to herself as to Hans. "The last time I left our main barracks was seventy years ago. Up until the invasions by the King in Yellow and the Drones, I haven't talked to someone who isn't a Conservator. Or fought with, or slept with. Something of a - No, it is a travesty, plain and simple. It's why I envy Luce and Dora for what they're able to do. Break away from us because he's supposed to travel the world, and she's daring enough to give up eternal life for love. I can't, and won't. But I'm thankful for the chance to be here, if only because I can get to know Hans. It's a start. We're both from these people, but no longer of them, and so we both tend to think of them as apart from us."

She signaled the bartender for a round of beers. The conversation was, as always, best continued over alcohol.

Hans took in her words, nodding at the truth of them. She wasn't so different. Conservators weren't so different. Their eternity was governed by other means and perhaps less precarious than a cultist's but they drew upon the same sort of legacy... duty.

Yellow King. Oh the irony. Hans was called out for the same reason, as were Minerva's lads. Up until that point, the two groups were eternally at each others throats. They fought in a future time, and in the past, constant harassment and death lobbed between sides. And now? He was pretty sure his boss was boffing Minerva. Hans wisely kept all that to himself.

"I am grateful to the Yellow King, then. If not for him, I'd have never met you. We were brought here for the same cause."

Chrys had struck home in so many ways. "I get tired of seeing the same faces and hearing the same voices. I know all of their habits. One man in a thousand coughs and I recognize him by the sound. We run out of things to say. We rehash the same arguments, repeat the same jokes, listen to the same laments, celebrate the same birthdays... year after year, decade after decade, and the millennium drag on. I wouldn't leave them, though, even if I could. We can't retire."

His mind wandered to the Wilting Succubus and all the cultists stuffed within its walls. The same men he'd known for most of his existence. The same snores and grunts and sneezes.

"I'd sleep with you. It would be nice to wake up to a pretty face."

Oh, wait, that came out wrong. He hadn't meant it sexually. Or maybe he had? He hadn't made a play on anyone for at least a hundred years.

Hans drummed the fingertips of both hands on the counter and stared straight ahead, color slowly rising to his cheeks and ears. Damn his Aryan blood... a blush stood out like a beacon. "Where's that beer? We ordered beer. Beer would be good."

[Cerillium]

Minerva pressed her face against the cool cotton pillowcase and breathed in. Her lungs felt clear. Her skin didn't feel so badly, either. She pushed herself from the mattress and sat up.

The open window brought autumn scents to her. The Laburnum tree, which always presented the yard with heady perfume in the spring, was slowly loosing its leaves. The branches swayed on the breeze and caused the sunlight to dapple on her sheets. She shuffled out of bed and propped her elbows on the window ledge, looking out into the rest of the garden.

Naomi did a wonderful job tending it. It was almost like a fairytale setting, with gravel footpaths that lead the wanderer on a quiet and contemplative journey through a cottage setting. Minerva had always been impressed by the amount of detail Naomi put into each aspect. She believed the godling did it to give Eva a place to play, although she wasn't sure if the troubled child appreciated the small table and chairs under the dense willow branches, or the toad holes made from broken pottery. Eva was perhaps too old and too scarred to find solace in those things? Minerva wasn't certain.

She craned her neck and spotted a towhead child running down a path of heliotrope still in bloom. The cherry and vanilla flower clusters cast fragrance into the air as the child stooped to touch them. Sophie stood up and babbled something in German before attempting to pluck one of the purple clusters. The woody plant refused to yield and Minerva giggled. That's a losing battle, kiddo, she sighed to herself.

The cultist leader threw on her bathrobe and slippers and opened the French doors leading out into the garden. She still wasn't certain if Klaus was pleased or angry over her impromptu actions.

"Sophie, wirst du dich verletzt."

Klaus fished a pen knife from his pocket and knelt beside her. "Schritt beiseite. Erlauben Papa, Ihnen zu helfen, ja?"

Complaint laughter was her response. She scooted in front of him to select her desired cluster. "Floor!"

"Flower," he gently corrected her. He placed the woody stem between blade and thumb and pressed to cut it. "Flower," he repeated and playfully poked her nose with it.

"Flowwar!"

He snorted as she bolted up the path towards Minerva with the cluster in her hand. She presented to Minerva and burst into a fresh batch of giggles.

Klaus rose and followed her. He kissed Minerva's cheek in greeting then snorted again as Sohpie ran in circles around them both. The child's laughter was infectious.

"She does this all day, you know," he sighed. "All day. We've been working on our English. How do you feel, Knuddelmous?"

Sophie knocked into her leg before she could answer. She wrapped Minerva's knee in a tight hug. "Hallo, Schatten-Frauen! Ich bin Sophie! Papa und ich sah einen Schmetterling."

Klaus cleared his throat and her tiny face tipped up to stare at him. She giggled. Releasing Minerva's leg, she stepped back, folding her hands in front of her and took a deep breath.

"Hallo Schadow Frauen." She peered up at Klaus again and drew another breath in order to address Minerva. "I am Sophie."

Her tiny face screwed up in concentration but she'd already forgotten what else she said. "Ich habe vergessen, was ich sagte, Papa?"

"What did you see?" he prompted.

"Oh! I zeeink sie Sch- butterink fly. Viz Papa. Ja, like zo!" Her tiny hands pressed together at the wrist and she clapped them to mimic large wings.

"All day," Klaus' eyes widened as he stressed the fact again.