Personification Life - IC Part VIII [open]

[Swith Witherward]

Her eyes lit up in early morning palest sky blue and she gave him a mischief-filled look. "Perfect! I was hoping you'd say that! Targets...I owe Luce for something. And the crazy rabbit that hangs out at our place sometimes - he's fun to mess with. How about you? Anyone you would like to prank?"

They'd reached the building, by then.

"Other than the personification? No, but Luce would work," Hans agreed. He opened the door for Chrys. "You know more about his personality. What do you have in mind?"

"Greetings, upside-down man!", Dimitrus greeted in a laid-back manner. "I don't believe we have met before. You are new to this place?"

...

As if drawn to the location by the scent of alcohol and sin, a group of grey-skinned guards piled into Chaos. Their leader, Azarath, marched straight up to the bar and laid down a small bag of gold pieces.

"I'll take a mead, if ya got it. Flin would be better, too. T'night's a party!"

Will was disappointed that the fight had come to an end before he could get his money's worth. He sighed and turned his body to look at Dimitrus.

"I'm Will. I don't think we've met. Now we have, and you're Dimitrus!" He flashed a gleaming, sharp-toothed smile to her.

--

Meanwhile, in Chaos, the mead began to flow!

[Torsiedelle]

"You know my name. I assume you're employed by the faction of this state known as Chaos, Will?", Dimitrus asked. "And it's a pleasure to meet you."

....

"Smashing!", Azarath cheered. His companions crowded around, just as eager to drink, and soon the bar would be filled with merry singing and rambling.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

Insidious had a weak spot for sweets and order a small cream dish along with a serving of fruit before continuing her conversation. "I expected such you seem like a very independent person in general." Her skin began to swirl with a variety of different shades of white, that all merged into a phantasmal hue.

Arthur ordered Mousse au chocolat, as most raptors were addicted to anything containing chocolate and sugar. His eyes tracked the swirling patterns on her skin, letting his mind drift.

"Yes, well independence comes naturally with not being easily classified." Arthur replied.

[Swith Witherward]

Ray listened in to her talk, and discovered that the creature was not here to hurt. In fact, he was slightly comforted that he knew why she was here, and that someone had come to comfort him. But she was indeed right. Ray had literally everything he'd ever need: his imagination could turn perhaps anything in this world to what he willed, even though it was all already beautiful. His instincts could be satisfied without harming anyone. He could do what he loved without there ever being a need for what he did. He never again had to worry about eating when he didn't want to, or even perhaps doing basic, menial things like bathroom breaks and sleeping. If that was what he desired, of course: this was Heaven.

But without the one crucial element he desired, Ray would never truly be happy here. Even if he could form an image of Albert from his memories, it wouldn't really be Albert. It'd be the hulking shadow of the man he loved, whom would simply go off of the memories that Ray held of him.

And so, when the woman finished her sentence, it all hit home for Ray. Unable to contain his emotions, he simply began to sob uncontrollably and forcefully. It was a loud sort of wailing, the effects of an incredible loss multiplied by a dozen. Ray couldn't think of anything other than his sorrow: he might as well have gone to hell, or simply faded off into nonexistence. It would have been a better ending than being stuck here.

She allowed him to purge some of his sorrow. There wasn't anything wrong with coming to terms with one's own death. In a sense, he was grieving as if Albert had died. However, Albert wasn't dead. He was alive and well in the material plain.

She unfolded her legs and knelt in front of Ray. Her delicate hand reached forward and she tipped his chin up with her fingertips. "Ray," she tenderly murmured before hauling back her hand and slapping him hard enough to rock his head to the side.

"Snap out of it."

Her eyes, while still kind, bore into his. "You are from Bielefeld. Do you honestly think Albert would leave you to rot? Granted, you're new to the area. You might not have received the Building memo, but very few inhabitants stay dead. Is Albert wailing? I suppose he is. But then he might get off his fanny and find a way. There's always a way, Ray. I'm not that way, though. I've just about had it with bringing people back, mainly because they don't respect the effort enough to keep their new bodies alive for more than a half hour."

She stood up and the gossamer cloth enveloped her limbs. "There is a lovely house across the street. You need to pick up your baggage, open the door and put on tea. Or coffee, if that's what you enjoy. And then you need to wash your face, comb your hair and be patient. Grief is understandable, but never allow it to become despair. This is Eternity. One moment in Eternity might be a hundred years on Earth, yet a hundred years here may only be five minutes there."

--

Will's smiled widened and he dropped to the floor, neatened his uniform jacket and bowed to Dimitrus.

"Who wouldn't know your name? It rolls off the tongue perfectly, but even the grace of those syllables fall short when compared to your own beauty. Why anyone such as you would be stuck in Bielefeld is beyond me, but heaven has favored us by sending you here."

He winked at her companion. "And this is Drova? I believe you're a native inhabitant of the BranRiech?"

[Primordial Luxa]

Insidious had a weak spot for sweets and order a small cream dish along with a serving of fruit before continuing her conversation. "I expected such you seem like a very independent person in general." Her skin began to swirl with a variety of different shades of white, that all merged into a phantasmal hue.

Arthur ordered Mousse au chocolat, as most raptors were addicted to anything containing chocolate and sugar. His eyes tracked the swirling patterns on her skin, letting his mind drift.

"Yes, well independence comes naturally with not being easily classified." Arthur replied.

"I suppose it would" she replied "So tell me about your nation. I never here you or any of your friends talking about it, and i'm quite curious what raptor society is like as a whole."

[The BranRiech]

Drova turned to Will as well, having been listening, but watching the others with a piqued interest. But Will was addressing him now, and he turned his attention to the cultist. "Hmm, yes. I am, in both respects. I am next in line to the Royal Throne, back home at least. Here? I guess I can be called a student. I'm supposed to get life experience here or something." He nodded in answer to his questions, even though he probably already knew. "My sis' here too, she's probably off talking to squirrels, or screwing with some new potion."

[Torsiedelle]

"Why, thank you, kind sir.", Dimitrus replied quietly. If she was any less dignified, she'd have blushed. For the moment being, she believed she'd let Drova speak.

"I guess I'm the same as Drova, here."

....

Across Europe and the State of Bielefeld, for anyone with a radio tuned to just the right frequency, with a good enough reception, under certain circumstances, they would receive a strange transmission. It was undecipherable, and the source, for the time being, was unknown. In reality, it wasn't even a threat in any way, but simply a neat happenance that would catch the interest of radio enthusiasts.

At the same time, in the Caucus Mountains, on the Russian-Torsiedellie border, an abandoned radio station became active once again. Nobody would know why, or how. Most people wouldn't even know its existence. It was nothing to worry about.

[Erucia]

She allowed him to purge some of his sorrow. There wasn't anything wrong with coming to terms with one's own death. In a sense, he was grieving as if Albert had died. However, Albert wasn't dead. He was alive and well in the material plain.

She unfolded her legs and knelt in front of Ray. Her delicate hand reached forward and she tipped his chin up with her fingertips. "Ray," she tenderly murmured before hauling back her hand and slapping him hard enough to rock his head to the side.

"Snap out of it."

Her eyes, while still kind, bore into his. "You are from Bielefeld. Do you honestly think Albert would leave you to rot? Granted, you're new to the area. You might not have received the Building memo, but very few inhabitants stay dead. Is Albert wailing? I suppose he is. But then he might get off his fanny and find a way. There's always a way, Ray. I'm not that way, though. I've just about had it with bringing people back, mainly because they don't respect the effort enough to keep their new bodies alive for more than a half hour."

She stood up and the gossamer cloth enveloped her limbs. "There is a lovely house across the street. You need to pick up your baggage, open the door and put on tea. Or coffee, if that's what you enjoy. And then you need to wash your face, comb your hair and be patient. Grief is understandable, but never allow it to become despair. This is Eternity. One moment in Eternity might be a hundred years on Earth, yet a hundred years here may only be five minutes there."

The sudden slap to the face really was the only way to get Ray out of it. He sniffled a few more times, sucking up his grief before suddenly feeling incredibly angered. His limbs trembled with instinctual fury, almost readied to cause havoc within paradise. Yet the way she then continued and took control of Ray, forcing him to calm, made him prevent himself from doing such a disgraceful action. After all, this was Heaven: violence here would not have been finely looked upon.

He glanced to the house down the way. A finely-paved grey road lead down to it, surrounded by trimmed and luscious grass on both sides. The outside was painted a lovely shade of ice white with a hint of cream, and the shudders and roof were painted a rich greenish color. Windows were illustrious but not overtly so: a wide one on the ground floor, and three on the top floor. Each had curtains on the inside edges, and presented an alluring interior. A garage sat on the left side (or as Ray saw it, to his right) of the house. It even had fine features outside of it: the 6-stared sun on the Erucian flag waved delicately in the breeze, mounted to a post on the porch. And, when looking behind the house, a picture-perfect set of trees and woods sat.

And so, Ray looked back up at the woman talking to him. "....I am an Erucian. No native of Bielefeld," he somehow managed to slip out first. He then quickly got to the point and made up for it. "But that is beside the point, I su-suppose. I want to be here, in Heaven. But that is when my time has come. I've lived 27 years, soon coming on to 28: my life is picking up for the better, or at least it was when I still held it. May I live finely here? O-Of course. But without Albert, I can't see myself surviving here the same soul.

"But...when you present it, the house is n-nice...To be quite honest, it's lovely. Perhaps though, the thing I miss is that I'd like something more. Maybe real, human neighbors. Or even alien neighbors. People I've never met before." When he said that, he was surprised when a wave of wind blasted in his direction: it presented that a small, white picket fence sat on the sides of his house, and that he was now surrounded by Suburbia. The immediate person he saw was an Indian man, watering his lawn. The man waved a hello and spoke of it at the same time, before going back to his watering.

"...No! No, that's not what I wanted!", he shouted out, and suddenly it all reverted back to what it was. "I meant REAL PEOPLE. Not fake portions of my imagination! Others who have died, I want to meet them! I can't stand the thought of being trapped alone with figments of my imagination for the rest of eternity! And I can't....I-I can't stand being without Albert...." He looked down, and shook his head. Ray remained quiet for a few precious moments, and then continued.

"...Al-Alright. I'll head inside and try to ease myself. But....I don't know, I sorta want a promise. I know I'm going to die eventually. I don't want to live on Earth forever: I want to take more than a taste of paradise. But...I-I want it with Albert. I want to know that he won't fade from existence, like he said. Maybe...Maybe he'll go to whatever the Roman Pantheon says their people go? Not the underworld, but the place where hero's go. Maybe...Maybe I could see him, if he goes there?

"I don't want to stay alone, without him. He's everything to me...", his appearance showed his sincerity. Ray looked up with eyes that gurgled tears, but he soon looked back down and wiped his eyes. He then got up and held onto his baggage, and then took a deep breath. "...I don't know. I suppose I...I just want reassurance. You're a god, right? Maybe you can help me. Well, not...resurrect me. Not right now, anyways. I want to...I want to see what this place can offer me. I-I saw a city in the distance. Maybe I'll look there, see what they have to offer. Or I'll make my own city...

"...No, not own city. Too few real people. Do you think....Do you think that they have bars in this place? Where people can just go and...talk? Drink in a dimly-lit room, a jazz band playing in the background?", Ray asked again. He seemed obviously calmer, although his emotions were still stuck in a rut.

[Swith Witherward]

The sudden slap to the face really was the only way to get Ray out of it. He sniffled a few more times, sucking up his grief before suddenly feeling incredibly angered. His limbs trembled with instinctual fury, almost readied to cause havoc within paradise. Yet the way she then continued and took control of Ray, forcing him to calm, made him prevent himself from doing such a disgraceful action. After all, this was Heaven: violence here would not have been finely looked upon.

He glanced to the house down the way. A finely-paved grey road lead down to it, surrounded by trimmed and luscious grass on both sides. The outside was painted a lovely shade of ice white with a hint of cream, and the shudders and roof were painted a rich greenish color. Windows were illustrious but not overtly so: a wide one on the ground floor, and three on the top floor. Each had curtains on the inside edges, and presented an alluring interior. A garage sat on the left side (or as Ray saw it, to his right) of the house. It even had fine features outside of it: the 6-stared sun on the Erucian flag waved delicately in the breeze, mounted to a post on the porch. And, when looking behind the house, a picture-perfect set of trees and woods sat.

And so, Ray looked back up at the woman talking to him. "....I am an Erucian. No native of Bielefeld," he somehow managed to slip out first. He then quickly got to the point and made up for it. "But that is beside the point, I su-suppose. I want to be here, in Heaven. But that is when my time has come. I've lived 27 years, soon coming on to 28: my life is picking up for the better, or at least it was when I still held it. May I live finely here? O-Of course. But without Albert, I can't see myself surviving here the same soul.

"But...when you present it, the house is n-nice...To be quite honest, it's lovely. Perhaps though, the thing I miss is that I'd like something more. Maybe real, human neighbors. Or even alien neighbors. People I've never met before." When he said that, he was surprised when a wave of wind blasted in his direction: it presented that a small, white picket fence sat on the sides of his house, and that he was now surrounded by Suburbia. The immediate person he saw was an Indian man, watering his lawn. The man waved a hello and spoke of it at the same time, before going back to his watering.

"...No! No, that's not what I wanted!", he shouted out, and suddenly it all reverted back to what it was. "I meant REAL PEOPLE. Not fake portions of my imagination! Others who have died, I want to meet them! I can't stand the thought of being trapped alone with figments of my imagination for the rest of eternity! And I can't....I-I can't stand being without Albert...." He looked down, and shook his head. Ray remained quiet for a few precious moments, and then continued.

"...Al-Alright. I'll head inside and try to ease myself. But....I don't know, I sorta want a promise. I know I'm going to die eventually. I don't want to live on Earth forever: I want to take more than a taste of paradise. But...I-I want it with Albert. I want to know that he won't fade from existence, like he said. Maybe...Maybe he'll go to whatever the Roman Pantheon says their people go? Not the underworld, but the place where hero's go. Maybe...Maybe I could see him, if he goes there?

"I don't want to stay alone, without him. He's everything to me...", his appearance showed his sincerity. Ray looked up with eyes that gurgled tears, but he soon looked back down and wiped his eyes. He then got up and held onto his baggage, and then took a deep breath. "...I don't know. I suppose I...I just want reassurance. You're a god, right? Maybe you can help me. Well, not...resurrect me. Not right now, anyways. I want to...I want to see what this place can offer me. I-I saw a city in the distance. Maybe I'll look there, see what they have to offer. Or I'll make my own city...

"...No, not own city. Too few real people. Do you think....Do you think that they have bars in this place? Where people can just go and...talk? Drink in a dimly-lit room, a jazz band playing in the background?", Ray asked again. He seemed obviously calmer, although his emotions were still stuck in a rut.

"Maybe? You know you can't possibly be the only soul in heaven. Maybe this is a time for introspection instead of conversation? Maybe what you most need is the very thing you've been given - solitude. Not eternal solitude, mind you. Instead, this might be the opportunity for you to think beyond where you are as a person?"

A wry smile crossed her lips. "And maybe this is Hell? To have everything you want and need except for the one thing you most want? As for personifications? Don't ask me. It's my understanding that they fade away unless they're killed outright. Otherwise, they're somewhat immortal."

She looked to the horizon and sighed. "Ray, perhaps what you should ask yourself is What have I done with my life since I arrived in Bielefeld? Had you lived it to the fullest? Had you done all the things you wanted to do? Did you see all that you wanted to see? Or, and let's be honest, did you put all your dreams aside for the sake of love? Because that's not living. That's just treading water in a warm spot in the lake. Maybe this is your opportunity to remind yourself of those goals? This is your wake-up call. You might just have a second chance, but will you do as so many others do? Will you squander it, or continue to put aside what used to matter, or forget how cruel death is once life is gone? Or, will you rekindle those dreams and incorporate Albert into them? Will you seize life by the horns, living it to the fullest as you walk side by side together?

"You're much too young to spend your life treading water. You're also much too strong to allow grief to convince you that you can't go on without Albert."

[AETEN II]

Volturius propped himself upwards from his prone position on the bed with the thumbs of his folded wings, giving him a better view of Tipper's display. The Astartes then contemplated her promise, eagerly awaiting any and all possibilities of the late evening's events. He also took extreme interest in the proposal of going on a hunting trip- which while lacking the pleasurable rush of hormones and combat stimulates of an actual firefight, it retained the simple fact that it involved killing something. Not to mention that venison was a delectable dish that also furthered the worship of the Prince of Excess. Simply for the fact, Volturius considered bagging multiple deer if simply to please his patron god.

The astartes slightly chuckled at the thought of hunting deer with a bolter. He'd certainly have to hunt multiple members of the species should he wish for their be any noticeable shreds of flesh suitable for consumption.

"A hunt sounds pleasant- venison would make for a fine dinner. Although I'd need a better, no, weaker weapon to ensure there was something left to eat. Bolters make for excellent weapons of war- but are terrible tools for gathering food of anything smaller than a Carnifex."

Tipper turned towards him, once again drawn to the two most potent weapons on his body. He could snap a deer's neck with those hands. He could tear its spine from its body, if he really wanted to. But... his size was to the deer's advantage. The slightest twig snap would send the thing to cover in the dense brush. Deer were a cowardly opponent, not befitting anyone who had been blessed by Khorne.

Tipper's head tilted. It was she who had converted him to their god. It seemed like ages ago that she'd followed Dexter into the damaged ship and beheld him, a solitary Astartes towering over veteran and green cultists. He served Chaos Undivided back then. She'd asked him about his childhood but she never asked about his assignment to that ship. On the 'fokken, people didn't talk about their lives. She found herself overly curious.

The tiny cultist returned to the bed and crawled across the mattress until she was kneeling between his legs. She set her hands on her knees and squinted at his face. "I shall ask you something forbidden. I'm not supposed to. Dexter said asking these things was a bad idea because sad memories might occur. But Dexter isn't here, and we aren't trapped in the Eye, and there aren't any Warp Storms preventing us from going where we please. So... well. When we met, you were the only Astartes alive. Why were you on that ship? Where were you going, and how'd you end up caught in a Storm?"

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.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"I suppose it would" she replied "So tell me about your nation. I never here you or any of your friends talking about it, and i'm quite curious what raptor society is like as a whole."

"Ah, very pleasant, free from crime everyone is armed with no restrictions on weapons, progressive social policies, and a massive police and secret police force keeping the public well guarded. The food is great with a large selection of livestock and no pesky 'animal rights' to limit industry. Technology is always growing more creative to increase productivity and resources. Since our version of Earth has been completely conquered, the massive military war machine turning it's eye to new places to settle and new resources to extract. However, since our culture is relatively new, only little more than a decade old linearly speaking, with much focus on the technological revolution, little was left to create an actual culture. Most of it was heavily borrowed from the human culture we researched as we rose in power. If you visit, you'll see German influence on the government and military, American influence on the economy and corporate culture, and Art-Deco and Victorian Gothic art styles. In many ways the Empire is progressive in Technology, social rights, and economics. However, it is an elitist speciest society, without raptor blood in your veins there is no place in the Empire outside of a tour bus, agriculture facility, or science lab for other sapient beings." Arthur explained drawing on his time in the Raptorverse before his genetic structure became corrupted.

"Why don't you tell me about yours? I'm interested in how it would create such an interesting individual such as yourself." he asked and ate his spoonful of mousse.

[Swith Witherward]

Will looked between Drova and Dimitrus. "You don't look like him, Dimitrus. You look human. What the heck are you?" This last question was to Drova.

He walked a slow circle around the winged creature, taking in his skin color and odd wings.

[The BranRiech]

Will looked between Drova and Dimitrus. "You don't look like him, Dimitrus. You look human. What the heck are you?" This last question was to Drova.

He walked a slow circle around the winged creature, taking in his skin color and odd wings.

Before being compared, Drova was taking in Dimitrus, with her Ice white hair, and red eyes. She almost looked somewhat . . . Royal, for a human, anyways. He sighed, she was the closest that he'd seen to one of his own here in Bielefeld, the other one being his sister, and before that, the Royal Guards of his family, and his father. He listened to Will's request and nodded.

"Pyersai, and you're correct about us being natives of the land called the Branriech, before the humans drove us underground." He explained, adjusting his glasses, the unfortunate side-effects of living underground for a very long time. His orange-eyes still showed through them though, in-turn, explaining his lineage as a Royal. It was a strange way to denote him, but the orange-trim on his clothes would at least show he was wealthy, or he knew that people should know.

"So, what would you like to know? I've gotten very used to explaining what I am to people who don't know."

[Urran]

Yoshi was in serious trouble. Normally Octavian wouldn't have been able to catch him, but he had caught Yoshi somewhat off guard by Primordial slamming him against the wall. The kicks to his manhood hurt no more than they would to anywhere else but it was still painful, though not to the degree that Octavian hoped. The punches landed mostly on Yoshi's stomach and had knocked the wind out of him. There was a sickening pop of flesh tearing and jeans ripping and Yoshi shrieking as Primordial forced them apart. Octavian was left with a mouthful of jeans and flesh. The pain forced Yoshi to cry. He clenched his teeth. Primordial was right. He turned to Octavian. "It doesn't have to be like this" His face was like an angels but an angel enraged with pain and the determination to avenge one that it loved. Yoshi didn't care what Octavian said or did to him, but he wasn't getting away with hurting Tora.

[Swith Witherward]

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."

Before being compared, Drova was taking in Dimitrus, with her Ice white hair, and red eyes. She almost looked somewhat . . . Royal, for a human, anyways. He sighed, she was the closest that he'd seen to one of his own here in Bielefeld, the other one being his sister, and before that, the Royal Guards of his family, and his father. He listened to Will's request and nodded.

"Pyersai, and you're correct about us being natives of the land called the Branriech, before the humans drove us underground." He explained, adjusting his glasses, the unfortunate side-effects of living underground for a very long time. His orange-eyes still showed through them though, in-turn, explaining his lineage as a Royal. It was a strange way to denote him, but the orange-trim on his clothes would at least show he was wealthy, or he knew that people should know.

"So, what would you like to know? I've gotten very used to explaining what I am to people who don't know."

Will’s mind was actually on other matters, chiefly whether or not Drova would be good to eat. Status, lineage, wealth… none of these things mattered much to Will. He was a bit jaded, actually. All the status and riches in the world didn’t matter when massive ships jumped through gates and Exterminatus was carried out. Then lineage ended, forever, with nothing to show for that being’s history except crunchy rocks floating in orbit around a frightened star.

“I wanted to know if you were edible.” Will believed in honesty when dealing with new species. “I suppose you wouldn’t be open to being my lunch, though? Or dinner, but we’ve already got that covered. I believe tonight’s menu is lamb stew and soda bread. Mmmm, you haven’t lived until you’ve eaten that. Too bad it’s in our mess, or I’d invite you.”

He continued his slow circle around Drova, but it wasn’t menacing. He was memorizing the Pyersai’s features. Minerva had communicated with the species before. She’d taught them to brew a potent poison that ended suffering. He’d been curious about Drova and his sister for some time, and that curiosity pretty much pushed away his thoughts regarding Dimitrus. That isn’t to say he’d given up on trying to lure her into his bed. He fully planned to give the albino a night of passion that would leave her clawing the sheets in breathless ecstasy.

Hey, let’s not forget he’s a cultist for a hedonistic god!

He completed his circle and came to a stop in front of Drova. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, oh sentient one who shouldn’t be eaten. What drew you to Bielefeld? Other than Bran, I suppose. Bran’s people have invaded us… him, his sister, his offspring, his wife. We’re hip deep in Branlings, but we don’t mind. They brighten our days with their orange-y ways, and I don’t think it’d be the same without them. And ten bucks on pretty kitty, since they're fighting again."

[Primordial Luxa]

"I suppose it would" she replied "So tell me about your nation. I never here you or any of your friends talking about it, and i'm quite curious what raptor society is like as a whole."

"Ah, very pleasant, free from crime everyone is armed with no restrictions on weapons, progressive social policies, and a massive police and secret police force keeping the public well guarded. The food is great with a large selection of livestock and no pesky 'animal rights' to limit industry. Technology is always growing more creative to increase productivity and resources. Since our version of Earth has been completely conquered, the massive military war machine turning it's eye to new places to settle and new resources to extract. However, since our culture is relatively new, only little more than a decade old linearly speaking, with much focus on the technological revolution, little was left to create an actual culture. Most of it was heavily borrowed from the human culture we researched as we rose in power. If you visit, you'll see German influence on the government and military, American influence on the economy and corporate culture, and Art-Deco and Victorian Gothic art styles. In many ways the Empire is progressive in Technology, social rights, and economics. However, it is an elitist speciest society, without raptor blood in your veins there is no place in the Empire outside of a tour bus, agriculture facility, or science lab for other sapient beings." Arthur explained drawing on his time in the Raptorverse before his genetic structure became corrupted.

"Why don't you tell me about yours? I'm interested in how it would create such an interesting individual such as yourself." he asked and ate his spoonful of mousse.

“Well its heavily influenced by our founders hyper libertarian ideals. The government is among the smallest in the world as it only concerns itself with protecting its citizens and strengthening the Empire as a whole. Because of this combined with insanely low taxes, incredibly high exports, and slave labor almost all Luxans are rich beyond measure and our middle class is wealthier than the upper class in former America was. With all this surplus money, luxuries are abundant, which has led to an incredibly hedonistic lifestyle. However because of heavy free market ideals it’s just as easy to gain money as it is to lose which keep people hard working and job oriented. Religion is an incredibly important factor as it is part of our science. People are encouraged to be incredibly personalized both in appearance and goals, genetic modification helps with the former but the constant wars between companies keep them all weak allowing people to freely start up their dream jobs.” She said as her skin been to explode in spots of grey

[The BranRiech]

"Good to . . . Eat? I suppose not, never tried Pyersai, and I don't intend to be labeled a cannibal." Drova said, listening to what Will was saying, about his fod he planned on eating, about the other things as well, and about someone named Bran? He didn't know him. "I don't know him, I just came her with my sister to learn things, to get out of the palace for a while, see how to live life, I guess. We're under the guise of students, but we can't really do that anymore. Most people here who know us know our titles."

He, too, looked back at Dimitrus, and shrugged. If only she were a Pyersai. She'd be beautiful.

Well, she wasn't, so he'd keep himself single at the moment. Not like he'd want to date a Human, but if he did, it'd be Chrys. "Branlings? Heh, they're just human, I suppose, and Orange is the royal color, if you'd like to know. The humans incorporated it into their national identity from cave paintings of our very-long off ancestors."

[Urran]

*whistles*

[Tiltjuice]

Her eyes lit up in early morning palest sky blue and she gave him a mischief-filled look. "Perfect! I was hoping you'd say that! Targets...I owe Luce for something. And the crazy rabbit that hangs out at our place sometimes - he's fun to mess with. How about you? Anyone you would like to prank?"

They'd reached the building, by then.

"Other than the personification? No, but Luce would work," Hans agreed. He opened the door for Chrys. "You know more about his personality. What do you have in mind?"

Chrys nodded again in thanks, tying her hair up. "Not quite sure yet," she said, as her handler's brain wasn't up to thinking of pranks quite yet. "We could come up with something, though, I'm sure. Something with his darts...he's quite possessive of them. It's rather scary to see. Normally he's very quiet, and then when he figures out they're missing, he becomes a ravening beast of DOOM."

Somewhere nearby, a bass drumbeat rang out.

"Was that a coincidence?" Chrys wondered, giving Hans a curious glance.

---

"Oh?" Katya perked up."let's go, then."

She leaned against Dora and started leading the way to her apartment. While Dora worked on the letter, she could take a shower, and tell Tora happy birthday. It was still early enough in the day, right?

Dora looked over at Katya, while she waited for the door to be unlocked. "So, besides showering, where are you off to?"

---

Natiya nodded and quickly got to work, frying up some bacon, and getting the eggs ready as well. "Say, Tas. You ever have eggs on a burger before?"

"No. Is it good?"

[New Aksarben]

Yoshi was in serious trouble. Normally Octavian wouldn't have been able to catch him, but he had caught Yoshi somewhat off guard by Primordial slamming him against the wall. The kicks to his manhood hurt no more than they would to anywhere else but it was still painful, though not to the degree that Octavian hoped. The punches landed mostly on Yoshi's stomach and had knocked the wind out of him. There was a sickening pop of flesh tearing and jeans ripping and Yoshi shrieking as Primordial forced them apart. Octavian was left with a mouthful of jeans and flesh. The pain forced Yoshi to cry. He clenched his teeth. Primordial was right. He turned to Octavian. "It doesn't have to be like this" His face was like an angels but an angel enraged with pain and the determination to avenge one that it loved. Yoshi didn't care what Octavian said or did to him, but he wasn't getting away with hurting Tora.

Octavian spit out the chunk of denim and flesh with a scowl after being thrown into a wall by Primordial. Upon the impact, he had promptly landed on his feet. Luckily Primordial had basically thrown Octavian into the wall with his back, so it was quite simple to land on his own two feet. He stretched out his back and torso slightly, and rolled his eyes at Yoshi. "I'm not going to let your remarks go, nothus. I am going to kill you." He spoke with an eerie calm, despite the Urranese blood that was covering the lower half of his face and the injuries he had suffered. "Plus, you broke my wrist. So I need revenge. What better way to get revenge than by doing the same or more to you?"

He simply ignored the person who had tried to intervene. It wasn't any of their business anyway. They weren't hurting anyone else, and it was a matter of honor for Octavian to get revenge now. Yoshi had insulted him(in his mind) and broken his wrist when he had simply been telling Yoshi to leave his apartment. With a gun. What was so wrong about that? It seemed like everyone here had a gun too, so why would Yoshi even care about being told to leave with a gun?

Regardless of that, Octavian lunged at Yoshi again, attempting to bite him again. That had seemed like an effective tactic to getting the more lithe Urranese to get still so he could do damage. Octavian's basic strategy at this point was to simply beat the shit out of Yoshi. Then to throw him out a window. Possibly not even in that order. Octavian just wanted to hurt Yoshi, and had no real way to do so right not except for his teeth, fists, and feet. So Octavian startd sending numerous punches and kicks at Yoshi as well.

---

"Just manipulatable extradimensional architecture, quite simple really, don't worry." Neil said with a snapof his claws as Scarface closed the door behind them. The former pep and maniacal nature returned slowly to the world weary dinosaur. Music quietly played over the intercom system of the house (although none of the parts after 2:44). He showed them to a cluttered lab filled with large antique equipment, lit by a single ceiling light that flickered to life over the metal gurney covered by a white cloth.

"Step into my lab, put your mind at ease. If you relax it will enable us, to do anything we please." Neil said as he pulled the cloth away revealing the pile of parts that formerly were outside. As the sheet fell Gretta was suddenly there in her lab gear. The bloody bed linen fell on the floor as three mounds appeared and ran out of the lab, still covered in the sheet.

"We bring him back, make him a bit better too. Recreate his body and soul, make your deepest desires come true." Neil confirmed. Gretta took a couple small bits off with a scalpel and tasted them. Distinguishing which parts were which, was fairly simple for her acute taste and vast knowledge of raw meats.

"We've got cloning, we've got reverse-time, we've got things we haven't tried. We can reclaim him from the other side." Neil elaborated as he gestured to the vast amounts and variety of equipment in the room. Gretta collected the required samples to extract the DNA of Ray and not the racehorse.

"But the price, the price, the first one was free. What would you give, to have your lover again?" Neil asked casually with a small friendly grin as he put his claws over the shoulders of the two personifications.

Albert listened, wondering why the raptor was rhyming so much. It kind of seemed unnecessary to do so, in his mind. But it wasn't really important right now, if the insane rabbit chose to speak in rhymes or not.. What mattered right now was getting Ray back as soon as he could. Albert's mind briefly thought of simply forcing the raptor to recreate Ray with force, but he guessed that would be stupid. Why would the raptor help in any way after getting beaten over the head with lab equipment, after all? No, it would be better to focus on getting Ray back and being polite to these raptors. Or at least as much as he could.

Albert was feeling so empty without RAy being there. Well, he technically was, but a pile of meat and fur didn't really count as his boyfriend. Albert felt hollow without Ray in his life, and was contemplating something that was very common in Greco-Roman myths when lovers were separated. But he knew he wouldn't go to the same place that Ray had gone. And he wouldn't go to that as long as there was a chance of Ray coming back to him someday. So he sighed heavily, and thought.

".....I would give anything to get Ray back. He's not only my lover, but he's my best friend. I have never felt like this for anyone before. I love him dearly, and would give anything to be able to be with him again. Just name what you want. I could even get you anything from my nation that you might want." Albert said, looking over at Neil, his face full of sorrow and pain at his boyfriend dying so painfully and suddenly. He rarely showed any of his emotions, so allowing these to show though said a lot about how much he felt for his Vulpes.

"I.... um.... have one more thing to ask for you do do besides just bring him back. You see, Ray wanted to look like an anthropomorphic grey fox, and just bringing him back would restore his normal appearance. He would not really like that very much. So, can I ask for you to also find a way for him to be able to look as he did when he died? Like mix his DNA with that of a foxes or something like that? I would be willing to give up more for Ray to get that back. For him to be happy with who he is. Even more if you could make it so he naturally looks like that or something."

Jacob blinked at his brother requesting that, considering that not to long ago, Albert hadn't given a crap about the happiness of others. Not to the extent that Octavian didn't care, but still, this was quite a radical change from how he had been even a month or two ago. It really spoke to how much he loved Ray to be willing to not only give up anything to get him back, but also to give up even more so Ray could look how he wanted to. Jacob just wondered what the raptor response would be to it all.

[Urran]

Yoshi simply stepped out of Octavian's way. It was easy enough to do considering Yoshi's superior reflexes and speed. With all of the flexibility of a ballerina he balanced on his injured leg and attempted to kick octavian in the back of the neck. Yoshi was going to fight to the end. But his endurance was limited and he was loosing a lot of blood. He slowed his heart rate to keep from bleeding out too quickly.

[New Aksarben]

Yoshi simply stepped out of Octavian's way. It was easy enough to do considering Yoshi's superior reflexes and speed. With all of the flexibility of a ballerina he balanced on his injured leg and attempted to kick octavian in the back of the neck. Yoshi was going to fight to the end. But his endurance was limited and he was loosing a lot of blood. He slowed his heart rate to keep from bleeding out too quickly.

Octavian smashed face first into the wall behind Yoshi. "FUCK!" he shouted, holding his nose with his good hand. Blood began seeping from under his hand, and he let out even more curses as Yoshi kicked him in the back and sent him skidding across the ground a short ways. Which was really annoying and painful seeing as he was naked(having never put more clothes on after being changed into a velociraptor. He really hadn't seen a reason then, but now it probably would have been useful protection.

Octavian continued swearing as he struggled back to his feet. "You are going to pay for that!" He snarled, launching himself at Yoshi again, to tackle him and bite him again. While throwing his arms out to make it more difficult for Yoshi to slip by him. He was really getting pissed that his tactics of brute force weren't working properly, as they normally did against enemies.

[Urran]

Octavian smashed face first into the wall behind Yoshi. "FUCK!" he shouted, holding his nose with his good hand. Blood began seeping from under his hand, and he let out even more curses as Yoshi kicked him in the back and sent him skidding across the ground a short ways. Which was really annoying and painful seeing as he was naked(having never put more clothes on after being changed into a velociraptor. He really hadn't seen a reason then, but now it probably would have been useful protection.

Octavian continued swearing as he struggled back to his feet. "You are going to pay for that!" He snarled, launching himself at Yoshi again, to tackle him and bite him again. While throwing his arms out to make it more difficult for Yoshi to slip by him. He was really getting pissed that his tactics of brute force weren't working properly, as they normally did against enemies.

Octavian would have to try better. Yoshi managed to jump over him, but his foot got caught on Octavian's arm, causing him to crash to the ground behind the brute. Yoshi cried out in agony, not only had he banged his head on the ground, but now his leg was beginning to feel like it was on fire. He tried to crawl to his feet, groaning and clenching his teeth. "Unh!"

[New Aksarben]

Octavian smashed face first into the wall behind Yoshi. "FUCK!" he shouted, holding his nose with his good hand. Blood began seeping from under his hand, and he let out even more curses as Yoshi kicked him in the back and sent him skidding across the ground a short ways. Which was really annoying and painful seeing as he was naked(having never put more clothes on after being changed into a velociraptor. He really hadn't seen a reason then, but now it probably would have been useful protection.

Octavian continued swearing as he struggled back to his feet. "You are going to pay for that!" He snarled, launching himself at Yoshi again, to tackle him and bite him again. While throwing his arms out to make it more difficult for Yoshi to slip by him. He was really getting pissed that his tactics of brute force weren't working properly, as they normally did against enemies.

Octavian would have to try better. Yoshi managed to jump over him, but his foot got caught on Octavian's arm, causing him to crash to the ground behind the brute. Yoshi cried out in agony, not only had he banged his head on the ground, but now his leg was beginning to feel like it was on fire. He tried to crawl to his feet, groaning and clenching his teeth. "Unh!"

Octavian grinned, and rushed over to Yoshi, attempting to stomp on his damaged leg. "That's what you get for hurting me, Nothus!" He shouted, spitting in Yoshi's direction. He was really pissed off. And I mean really pissed off. He tried stomping on Yoshi's leg as much as he could, and very viciously too. HE aimed to where Yoshi had a chunk missing from his leg every time, too, trying to make that injury even worse than it already was.

[Swith Witherward]

"Good to . . . Eat? I suppose not, never tried Pyersai, and I don't intend to be labeled a cannibal." Drova said, listening to what Will was saying, about his fod he planned on eating, about the other things as well, and about someone named Bran? He didn't know him. "I don't know him, I just came her with my sister to learn things, to get out of the palace for a while, see how to live life, I guess. We're under the guise of students, but we can't really do that anymore. Most people here who know us know our titles."

He, too, looked back at Dimitrus, and shrugged. If only she were a Pyersai. She'd be beautiful.

Well, she wasn't, so he'd keep himself single at the moment. Not like he'd want to date a Human, but if he did, it'd be Chrys. "Branlings? Heh, they're just human, I suppose, and Orange is the royal color, if you'd like to know. The humans incorporated it into their national identity from cave paintings of our very-long off ancestors."

"Nothing rhymes with it in English. Orange, I mean." One of Will's eyes was still watching the scrap between Yoshi and Octavian. The other was fixed directly on Drova.

"What do you think of Bielefeld so far? I'm pretty used to the place, so it's nice to hear fresh perspectives."