Personification Life IC IX - [Semi Open]

[Cerillium]

"It works for me."

The fish market here was completely unlike the noonday/early afternoon activity in Sai Kung. There, it was mostly fishermen with a few scattered visitors, coming in to sample the fresh catch. A rural feel that made a nice change from the massively crowded city center. He shrugged. Thinking about food didn't really help anyone, or answer any of his concerns. A walk would have been nice. He rarely got to do that these days, stuck behind a desk as he was most of the time.

Tilt scratched his head. "Right, well, dockworkers can be a rough sort, and I don't suspect that there'd be any trouble in the fish market. You want the soldiers with you? I can take some of the less physically inclined, let's say."

Ren nodded to James and Smith. "We'll be fine. Be careful with the rest," he winked at Tilt. He had the distinct impression that he'd just handed his CoOP a short lasso and mechanical pony. Not much use when herding cats and random scenery changes. "Scream if the urge to kill everything gets overwhelming."

He was joking of course. His CoOPs and he were in the same boat but minus all the little things that made coordinating ideas (or decompressing) easier, such as their IRC and Staff Release thread. Ren felt a sense of responsibility for everyone's safety.

"Thanks Jacob," he added. "I'm hoping we get some answers. Be careful. Avoid fuzzy things."

[Tiltjuice]

Ren nodded to James and Smith. "We'll be fine. Be careful with the rest," he winked at Tilt. He had the distinct impression that he'd just handed his CoOP a short lasso and mechanical pony. Not much use when herding cats and random scenery changes. "Scream if the urge to kill everything gets overwhelming."

He was joking of course. His CoOPs and he were in the same boat but minus all the little things that made coordinating ideas (or decompressing) easier, such as their IRC and Staff Release thread. Ren felt a sense of responsibility for everyone's safety.

"Thanks Jacob," he added. "I'm hoping we get some answers. Be careful. Avoid fuzzy things."

"I can't actually hit them?" Tilt joked back. "No worries. I should...hopefully...be able to take care of anything normal that comes up. Except killer rabbits of Caerbannog. Which, given that MB is a distant cousin, might be trouble."

He'd been out of shape once, until his parents nagged him enough to start exercising. He nodded to Fvaar, Min and the others. "Come on. No percussive encouragement needed, right?"

[Mincaldenteans]

Ren nodded to James and Smith. "We'll be fine. Be careful with the rest," he winked at Tilt. He had the distinct impression that he'd just handed his CoOP a short lasso and mechanical pony. Not much use when herding cats and random scenery changes. "Scream if the urge to kill everything gets overwhelming."

He was joking of course. His CoOPs and he were in the same boat but minus all the little things that made coordinating ideas (or decompressing) easier, such as their IRC and Staff Release thread. Ren felt a sense of responsibility for everyone's safety.

"Thanks Jacob," he added. "I'm hoping we get some answers. Be careful. Avoid fuzzy things."

"I can't actually hit them?" Tilt joked back. "No worries. I should...hopefully...be able to take care of anything normal that comes up. Except killer rabbits of Caerbannog. Which, given that MB is a distant cousin, might be trouble."

He'd been out of shape once, until his parents nagged him enough to start exercising. He nodded to Fvaar, Min and the others. "Come on. No percussive encouragement needed, right?"

Min smirked and pouted jokingly, "Dammit, I wanted some of rousing speech, guess I'll settle for glassy eyed fish stares and the smell of the..." he sniffed the air and cringed, "Sea and stuff," he said after. Tugging on his jacket, Min zipped it and pushed his hands into the pockets. It wasn't cold, not really, but the breeze and proximity to the water made it cooler than when the group had stepped out of the building.

"This kind of reminds me of Singapore, well, back in the day; when there was a wet market to go to. Used to be everywhere, now its just a dying sight what with grocery shops taking over."

[ApertureScienceInc]

PXM paced about, reading the book he took. With a fustrated grunt he dumped it in the wastebin. "Useless! I don't need a refresher on String theory branes, the 11 dimensions, or the many worlds interpretation...I need a hypothesis." He muttered lowly to himself. Not independent, this reality relied on them. But it did not react to their thoughts here? What was different besides no NS? What did fiction suggest? Bioshock Infinite, Portal 2, Half Life, Sliders, Doctor Who.... Community? Stranger than Fiction or In the Mouth of Madness? From a Buick 8, no, more like The Dark Tower. Yes, but how? It was theorized that Gravity could pass between universes which made it appear weaker and accounted fot some dark matter, why not brainwaves? Yes! But why wasn't it working here? Of course! He could be wrong, but it made the most sense.

"Guys, I have a hypothesis on the inner workings of this universe. Have you heard of the hypothesis that gravity only seems weak because it escapes to other universes? They think dark matter is just the interaction of other universes on ours. Now bear with me, suppose brain activity can do the same, now suppose there is a universe close to ours. If our collected writing reinforces this reality like a lense focuses light onto film. This universe could be reactive to brainwaves from our reality like film is to light. But we are not influencing it from here because our brainwaves are too close and are lost to white noise... it explains why people here can't influence their own existence and why it's fading. It also explains why only the typed stuff appears, the brainwaves of our fans help focus this reality, it is a collective focus. Its a clap your hands if you belive type deal. And this means bigher works could exist here Like Oz, Rapture, Columbia, The Dark Tower, even Gallifrey! We are just stuck in a region that is becoming out of focus because there are not enough fans...and time is still flowing beyond what we made. Although, if this plan works, we could get out because this place runs on clap your hands if you believe." He whispered out of earshot of Neste. He didn't want to alarm her to the nature of her existence, but he thought he made a breakthrough.

If they got back, and if he could prove his hypothesis, he could become famous, remembered as a great explorer that broke the boundries of reality... or he could go mad with power and create Cave Johnson's "Money-verse" or command an interdimensional army to conquer the planet... It could really go either way.

[Germanic Templars]

The noise, the smell. The thought of overcrowded places was enough for Smith to start backing away when no one was looking. Well God gave me this chance to finally be alone best not let this one slip like I did for opportunities in the past. He thought to himself as he looked at the group. His face was still covered which was good in his mind. Might have the chance of slipping in a crowd given the chance of having civilian clothing. Thoughts like that swirled in his mind.

[Cerillium]

PXM paced about, reading the book he took. With a fustrated grunt he dumped it in the wastebin. "Useless! I don't need a refresher on String theory branes, the 11 dimensions, or the many worlds interpretation...I need a hypothesis." He muttered lowly to himself. Not independent, this reality relied on them. But it did not react to their thoughts here? What was different besides no NS? What did fiction suggest? Bioshock Infinite, Portal 2, Half Life, Sliders, Doctor Who.... Community? Stranger than Fiction or In the Mouth of Madness? From a Buick 8, no, more like The Dark Tower. Yes, but how? It was theorized that Gravity could pass between universes which made it appear weaker and accounted fot some dark matter, why not brainwaves? Yes! But why wasn't it working here? Of course! He could be wrong, but it made the most sense.

"Guys, I have a hypothesis on the inner workings of this universe. Have you heard of the hypothesis that gravity only seems weak because it escapes to other universes? They think dark matter is just the interaction of other universes on ours. Now bear with me, suppose brain activity can do the same, now suppose there is a universe close to ours. If our collected writing reinforces this reality like a lense focuses light onto film. This universe could be reactive to brainwaves from our reality like film is to light. But we are not influencing it from here because our brainwaves are too close and are lost to white noise... it explains why people here can't influence their own existence and why it's fading. It also explains why only the typed stuff appears, the brainwaves of our fans help focus this reality, it is a collective focus. Its a clap your hands if you belive type deal. And this means bigher works could exist here Like Oz, Rapture, Columbia, The Dark Tower, even Gallifrey! We are just stuck in a region that is becoming out of focus because there are not enough fans...and time is still flowing beyond what we made. Although, if this plan works, we could get out because this place runs on clap your hands if you believe." He whispered out of earshot of Neste. He didn't want to alarm her to the nature of her existence, but he thought he made a breakthrough.

If they got back, and if he could prove his hypothesis, he could become famous, remembered as a great explorer that broke the boundries of reality... or he could go mad with power and create Cave Johnson's "Money-verse" or command an interdimensional army to conquer the planet... It could really go either way.

Trice curled up in an office chair, folding her legs underneath her and propping herself against the arm. "When I was a little girl, I believed in God. I listened to the priest and nuns and lay people talk about God and the apocalypse. It scared me, y'know? I was little and still believed in Santa and the Tooth Fairy. So I tired to rationalize it. When it would happen? When would Christ come back? I listened to adults who watched the news and proclaimed the world was getting so bad that Christ was sure to come back any day. I realized that I didn't want Him to come back. Not yet. Not before my first kiss, or before I learned how to ride a bike. I thought, what if God comes back at the very moment when not a single human being in the world is thinking of Him. What if that split second was all it took, that moment of inattention when all His creation was so preoccupied with life that not a single person was dwelling on Him? Or worse, what if God died the very millisecond that not a single person was thinking of Him? Maybe the Church had thousands and thousands of priests and nuns precisely to prevent it? Hey, I was just a little kid. But I walked around paranoid and it grew. What if I stopped thinking about my parents? Would they suddenly wink out of existence the moment everyone forgot about them? What about my dog? What if I suddenly forget to think about him and no one else did too? Would he vanish?"

She laughed and ran her fingers through her choppy hair. "Maybe that's your answer, PXM? I built this world based on stuff contributed, but they say a part of a person exists in everything they fashion. We breathe life into our creations. We empower it. But now? Now no one out there in the real world is left to think about this world. Like God, everything will vanish when no one is empowering the belief in Him. When no one is keeping Him alive by dwelling on him. Maybe that childish paranoia is built in to the things I create? Especially here? I've been thinking this since last night."

Neste had been working quietly as Trice spoke. She'd pulled up as much data as possible but was limited to only what was recorded. She analyzed everything as it came in and then snorted loudly. "At precisely 0330, the day you reported to have arrived here, there was a hiccup. Thirteen seconds of data - an insurmountable amount in the grand sceme of things - is missing directly after it. There was a shift in light that is unexplainable. Shadows appear to have moved as if the sun itself was off course. I can't assess your exact moment of arrival here but it transpired later that day. To answer your unspoken question, I have found no footage of any of your missing companions. Your memory is only that of photographs seen but there hasn't been anyone matching your mental image of Torsi."

Trice rubbed her eyes. "See if you can access the thought stream. I wrote my nation into this game when Urran and Bran were being assholes and playing a really poorly done II. I placed my nation near Japan and sent a diplomatic liaison for the Chorus. Do not tap into the Nifid thought stream. I don't want the Nifid to become alerted to the possible that this universe might vanish. I wrote them into the story as well, when Dani attacked the last time. They'll panic and pull the Singularity from under the Building."

"You wrote that into this role play?" Neste had already picked Trice's mind for answers to life, the universe and everything and, although somewhat unsettled, she had come to realize that the Witherward here was in fact and in part the Witherward she came from. Construct religion was difficult to fathom but the reality of reality and her own existence was something that they held true as a belief.

"I wrote it in long ago," Trice explained, "For shit and grins when Dab and Tsu kept fucking with the Bomb Shelter."

"Well, you're fucked, if I do say so and pardon my French. I'll reinforce the barriers between myself and the Nifid and keep that on the down low."

Trice nodded to her and slumped back in the chair. "The plan is to find a way to connect to Nation States. The key, and why it would be difficult to do from Temmo's perspective, is to connect using my account. I'm the worldbuilder. I fashion things because you guys ask for them. And right now, I need to focus on keeping things from fading. I'll need your help."

[Cerillium]

The noise, the smell. The thought of overcrowded places was enough for Smith to start backing away when no one was looking. Well God gave me this chance to finally be alone best not let this one slip like I did for opportunities in the past. He thought to himself as he looked at the group. His face was still covered which was good in his mind. Might have the chance of slipping in a crowd given the chance of having civilian clothing. Thoughts like that swirled in his mind.

"Come on Smith, James. We have work to do." Ren offered a two finger salute to Tilt and his companions and then crossed the street.

The docks were a noisy place. Fish and body odor mixed with oil and exhaust and tainted the salty air with the stench of humanity. Most of the dock workers seemed unfazed by their presence. They were too busy working to care. One in particular seemed to take notice of them. His appearance would be familiar to anyone who paid attention to those little posts tucked between senseless dialog. He could be found while people were poking around Prim's mind or else while the Teens tried to grasp their precarious position in the grand scheme of things. He was aware of them because he was aware of what they were. His massive chest expanded as he drew a deep breath and then he blew it out in a noisy sigh and rose from the bench were he'd been resting.

"Looking for something?" he asked the trio.

[Zarkanians]

Trice drove east towards the expressway which ran the length of one of the rivers. It was faster, despite the added distance, due to the usual heavy traffic in town. They headed north, past Raptor Lake, and then westward again. There were stunning views of the city itself and a glimpse of the airport before they skirted through the Industrial District and made their way up the long road to Cerillium Hill and the Observatory. Neste had remained in the front passenger seat where she could avoid physical contact. It was a crowded ride for the men in back, however.

The Observatory seemed to be populated. Nameless brothers worked in the fields in the distance, perhaps in an effort to check the ground before spring fully arrived. The Observatory was unlocked however no one greeted the group upon entry. There wasn't any Brother Adrastus bobbing and bowing, nor was Marcus there to fetch him.

Trice was familiar with the Observatory's layout and the group swept through the visitor areas and into the monastery's depths. The information would be housed in the lower levels. Brothers' voices could be heard above the general din of machine noise yet there wasn't so much as a fleeting glance of them in the halls. Trice pushed upon a door marked "Records" to find an unpopulated room. She sat Neste down at one of the computer terminals.

"Access it, authority Triumvir level three. You can read my mind. You know what I'm looking for."

The construct got to work.

Snow had been lucky enough to obtain one of the window-seats; that meant that he only had to crush himself against the door of the car in order to avoid physical contact with his neighbour. It also meant that he had an opportunity to stare out of the window and sight-see. He hadn't been around PL anywhere near long enough (this elicited a stab of guilt and a quiet mutter--something nonsensical and nearly inaudible); an opportunity to familiarize himself with the way things looked first-hand would be invaluable, assuming they made it out of here. They'd probably make it out of here. Or else the characters would come back. Maybe there'd be a black staff with fiery runes involved. And a dragon, and a Straken Lord, and a council of evil druids. He nodded to himself, a mock-sage expression on his face. "Listener, Speaker, Bouncer, Spy," he muttered, turning his thoughts towards his--no; they were there. Should have started thinking about it earlier. Oh well.

He had only grabbed a light coat--14 degrees was positively balmy compared to what he was used to; it was what the temperature was supposed to be at in late spring. He wouldn't have taken a jacket at all, if not for the scent of rain. Perhaps that had been a mistake--he had no idea what the climate was like here; this could be a temporary warm spot in the midst of a winter colder than anything he might have experienced in Winnipeg. He doubted it, but he remembered hearing that Bielefeld was currently located somewhere near Denmark; he couldn't quite convince himself that Europe would be so much more temperate than Canada was. Oh well; hopefully the observatory would have a heater and he wouldn't have to worry about it until it was time to leave.

He followed Trice through the corridors, observing the building but trying to avoid interacting with it. He had very little information regarding how the place worked--yet another reason to devote some of his spare time to going over the old threads; that would have been very useful in this situation. He didn't even think of asking for it--that would be inconvenient for the others. Trice didn't seem too unnerved by the lack of staff in the hallway; perhaps they preferred to avoid visitors? Or maybe they were all in their offices?

Okay, so the records room being unoccupied was more unusual. Time to ask a question: "Where are all the people?" That should do. Maybe a little louder next time. The others might not have even heard that one. Especially since he'd managed to mutter it on the exact moment that PXM had begun speaking; it was lost under the conversation that followed. He maintained his silence patiently, staring at various interesting points on the wall--a small smudge of dirt, a tiny imperfection, a particularly shiny point. Small details were as fascinating as entire situations, if you let your mind pour over them. He was rarely bored, though he was often tired.

[Fvaarniimar]

"I can't actually hit them?" Tilt joked back. "No worries. I should...hopefully...be able to take care of anything normal that comes up. Except killer rabbits of Caerbannog. Which, given that MB is a distant cousin, might be trouble."

He'd been out of shape once, until his parents nagged him enough to start exercising. He nodded to Fvaar, Min and the others. "Come on. No percussive encouragement needed, right?"

The first thing that came to mind was an image of Little Bunny Foo Foo, in the blurred Technicolor characteristic of memories of imagination. That makes no sense. Okay, as for other possible interpretations... Tilt didn't seem terribly inclined towards violence, and she didn't see a bunch of drummers ready to annoy them into walking in the correct direction. On the other hand- This is Bielefield... and for all Fvaar knew (barring certain hypothetical and not-so-hypothetical things, TOK related or otherwise) drummers- or self playing drums for that matter, were about to appear out of thin air; however, it didn't seem terribly likely. Perhaps percussive encouragement constituted a large slap on the back? Hmm. She could ask... Nah. That would be silly.

The girl moved towards the front of the group, bumping into someone as she did so. "Sorry! Are you okay?"

[Germanic Templars]

The noise, the smell. The thought of overcrowded places was enough for Smith to start backing away when no one was looking. Well God gave me this chance to finally be alone best not let this one slip like I did for opportunities in the past. He thought to himself as he looked at the group. His face was still covered which was good in his mind. Might have the chance of slipping in a crowd given the chance of having civilian clothing. Thoughts like that swirled in his mind.

"Come on Smith, James. We have work to do." Ren offered a two finger salute to Tilt and his companions and then crossed the street.

The docks were a noisy place. Fish and body odor mixed with oil and exhaust and tainted the salty air with the stench of humanity. Most of the dock workers seemed unfazed by their presence. They were too busy working to care. One in particular seemed to take notice of them. His appearance would be familiar to anyone who paid attention to those little posts tucked between senseless dialog. He could be found while people were poking around Prim's mind or else while the Teens tried to grasp their precarious position in the grand scheme of things. He was aware of them because he was aware of what they were. His massive chest expanded as he drew a deep breath and then he blew it out in a noisy sigh and rose from the bench were he'd been resting.

"Looking for something?" he asked the trio.

He heard Ren and sighed heavily, "Goooooooooooooooood-ish daaaaaaaaaammmnnnnn iiiiiit....." He mumbled under his breath. Smith then spoke up and asked, "Depends, is following you voluntary, or am I being voluntold?" He asked in such a way to where he asked with a British accent.

[Tiltjuice]

Min smirked and pouted jokingly, "Dammit, I wanted some of rousing speech, guess I'll settle for glassy eyed fish stares and the smell of the..." he sniffed the air and cringed, "Sea and stuff," he said after. Tugging on his jacket, Min zipped it and pushed his hands into the pockets. It wasn't cold, not really, but the breeze and proximity to the water made it cooler than when the group had stepped out of the building.

"This kind of reminds me of Singapore, well, back in the day; when there was a wet market to go to. Used to be everywhere, now its just a dying sight what with grocery shops taking over."

"Oh, it's happening in HK as well. The Graham Street Market is closing, and it's not going to be replaced." Tilt rubbed his chin as he turned to Fvaar, Serina, Bran, Mon, Fraire, Remmy, and NA to see who Fvaar had run into. "Everything all right back there?" he enquired politely. "Don't let the smell of fish trouble you, 'cos it's only getting stronger from here on out. Still got all your clothes on where they should be and not over your noses? Right, let's go."

His lengthening hair which ought to be cut soon blew in the breeze as they approached the outskirts of the market, where the mural of MB stood in plain and proud sight. The fish seller who had spoken to Dora in telling the artwork's tale waved to them.

"

[Fraire]

"I can't actually hit them?" Tilt joked back. "No worries. I should...hopefully...be able to take care of anything normal that comes up. Except killer rabbits of Caerbannog. Which, given that MB is a distant cousin, might be trouble."

He'd been out of shape once, until his parents nagged him enough to start exercising. He nodded to Fvaar, Min and the others. "Come on. No percussive encouragement needed, right?"

The first thing that came to mind was an image of Little Bunny Foo Foo, in the blurred Technicolor characteristic of memories of imagination. That makes no sense. Okay, as for other possible interpretations... Tilt didn't seem terribly inclined towards violence, and she didn't see a bunch of drummers ready to annoy them into walking in the correct direction. On the other hand- This is Bielefield... and for all Fvaar knew (barring certain hypothetical and not-so-hypothetical things, TOK related or otherwise) drummers- or self playing drums for that matter, were about to appear out of thin air; however, it didn't seem terribly likely. Perhaps percussive encouragement constituted a large slap on the back? Hmm. She could ask... Nah. That would be silly.

The girl moved towards the front of the group, bumping into someone as she did so. "Sorry! Are you okay?"

Fraire suddenly got hit by something. He turned around. He didn't know who she was, but she looked familiar. "Oh, yeah. I'm okay." He looked her up and down, trying to remember if he knew the person or not. She seemed vaguely familiar, but he wasn't sure. He had an awful memory. Fraire smiled at the person before him.

[New Aksarben]

"I can't actually hit them?" Tilt joked back. "No worries. I should...hopefully...be able to take care of anything normal that comes up. Except killer rabbits of Caerbannog. Which, given that MB is a distant cousin, might be trouble."

He'd been out of shape once, until his parents nagged him enough to start exercising. He nodded to Fvaar, Min and the others. "Come on. No percussive encouragement needed, right?"

"Shouldn't. I'm not quite sure what 'percussive encouragement' means, but I can guess." Jacob responded with a shrug. He glanced around at the group a bit, taking a tally of all that were there to make sure that they had everyone, with the intent to try to make sure that no one of the group went missing. It would suck to see any of them not get back to their homes and lives. It would be very hard to explain someone disappearing into a rp world and never being seen again, after all.

"....Are those killer rabbits from a certain British film, perhaps, Tilt?" Jacob guessed, scratching his chin and glancing around, waiting for Tilt to take the lead in their search through the fish market. The words 'killer rabbits' reminded Jacob of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and he'd never heard of deadly rabbits in any other place. He blinked when a girl accidentally ran into someone else, and hoped both were okay, but it sounded like Tilt already had it under control, so he didn't say anything.

[The BranRiech]

"Fish, eh?"

It was the first time Bran had ridden in a street-trolley, and it was quit the experience. Like San-Fran or something, except in a fictional world called Bielefeld, except there was no Golden Gate, or no Alcatraz, but except for those, it was a lot like San-Fran. He chuckled, and followed along with the group, admiring the scenery around them. If they weren't at risk of vanishing without a trace, this would have been a fine place to visit as a tourist.

He realized he was starting to fall behind though, and caught up just to hear Tilt and Jacob talking about Killer rabbits? His mind automatically flicked to MB.

"I could go with you, Cer." He stepped forward, long hair flowing in the breeze (It wasn't graceful, it was matting against his face and causing him to flip it every few seconds to keep it from his eyes, and swerved in the right direction).

[Giovenith]

"The killer bunny from Monty Python? That is awesome," Serina fondly interjected, as she tended to do. She was a strange mixture of quiet and spontaneous in her day-to-day life, amiably throwing in what she felt like when it suited her. The teen was good enough at this that it normally came out as good-natured humorous rather than rude. "And yes Tilt, from before, please don't hit us. Or I'll sue. Because America." This was dotted with a an exaggerated "wise" nod. "I'll go with Tilt and Jacob."

[Cerillium]

He heard Ren and sighed heavily, "Goooooooooooooooood-ish daaaaaaaaaammmnnnnn iiiiiit....." He mumbled under his breath. Smith then spoke up and asked, "Depends, is following you voluntary, or am I being voluntold?" He asked in such a way to where he asked with a British accent.

The dockworker softly laughed. "Sometimes you go where you never expected. We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope. Paul said that in his Epistle to the Romans."

He pushed his jersey sleeves further up his forearms. "What you're looking for here? Don't bother. You won't find answers. Nobody here remembers what's never been. You might try St. Evan-Andrew. The Cathedral downtown."

He smiled at Bran, who had just caught up to the trio. "You might give the airport a look. You'd have better knowledge than anyone else."

[Fvaarniimar]

The first thing that came to mind was an image of Little Bunny Foo Foo, in the blurred Technicolor characteristic of memories of imagination. That makes no sense. Okay, as for other possible interpretations... Tilt didn't seem terribly inclined towards violence, and she didn't see a bunch of drummers ready to annoy them into walking in the correct direction. On the other hand- This is Bielefield... and for all Fvaar knew (barring certain hypothetical and not-so-hypothetical things, TOK related or otherwise) drummers- or self playing drums for that matter, were about to appear out of thin air; however, it didn't seem terribly likely. Perhaps percussive encouragement constituted a large slap on the back? Hmm. She could ask... Nah. That would be silly.

The girl moved towards the front of the group, bumping into someone as she did so. "Sorry! Are you okay?"

Fraire suddenly got hit by something. He turned around. He didn't know who she was, but she looked familiar. "Oh, yeah. I'm okay." He looked her up and down, trying to remember if he knew the person or not. She seemed vaguely familiar, but he wasn't sure. He had an awful memory. Fraire smiled at the person before him.

With a sigh, Fvaar retrieved her glasses, which she'd been meaning to get adjusted so that they wouldn't fall off of her face. If only I'd done that BEFORE this happened, but biology apparently wasn't effective. Tucking the now dirt-y feather back in its spot near her right ear and grabbing her clothing bundle which fortunately she had knotted shut, the girl brushed off some more dirt and smiled. "Great. I can't seem to remember your name. Either of them. I think we met before- in person that is... Anyway, you'd know me as Fvaar. I'm pretty awful with names." Not in the sense of being awe-inspiring, either.

[Cerillium]

With a sigh, Fvaar retrieved her glasses, which she'd been meaning to get adjusted so that they wouldn't fall off of her face. If only I'd done that BEFORE this happened, but biology apparently wasn't effective. Tucking the now dirt-y feather back in its spot near her right ear and grabbing her clothing bundle which fortunately she had knotted shut, the girl brushed off some more dirt and smiled. "Great. I can't seem to remember your name. Either of them. I think we met before- in person that is... Anyway, you'd know me as Fvaar. I'm pretty awful with names." Not in the sense of being awe-inspiring, either.

Fvaar's experience put her in line of sight of something but it might have taken her mind a moment to catch up. It had been low to the ground and overshadowed by a stall (the very stall that NA had dreamed of). It was roughly 2" x 2" and directly below the mural on the wall. Unlike the mural, which was at eye level, this object was roughly 6" from the ground.

A pineapple.

[Germanic Templars]

"Thanks.."He replied before adding on under his breath, "I think. " Smith began his own foot march around town and he knew where to. First Tempe - armament, next maybe Quantum Automotive out in BFE away from the city. Though he shrugged off the thought. How the hell would he get there without cash for cab and within enough time to get actual work done? Questions that filled his mind as he wondered off away from the group.

[ApertureScienceInc]

Trice curled up in an office chair, folding her legs underneath her and propping herself against the arm. "When I was a little girl, I believed in God. I listened to the priest and nuns and lay people talk about God and the apocalypse. It scared me, y'know? I was little and still believed in Santa and the Tooth Fairy. So I tired to rationalize it. When it would happen? When would Christ come back? I listened to adults who watched the news and proclaimed the world was getting so bad that Christ was sure to come back any day. I realized that I didn't want Him to come back. Not yet. Not before my first kiss, or before I learned how to ride a bike. I thought, what if God comes back at the very moment when not a single human being in the world is thinking of Him. What if that split second was all it took, that moment of inattention when all His creation was so preoccupied with life that not a single person was dwelling on Him? Or worse, what if God died the very millisecond that not a single person was thinking of Him? Maybe the Church had thousands and thousands of priests and nuns precisely to prevent it? Hey, I was just a little kid. But I walked around paranoid and it grew. What if I stopped thinking about my parents? Would they suddenly wink out of existence the moment everyone forgot about them? What about my dog? What if I suddenly forget to think about him and no one else did too? Would he vanish?"

She laughed and ran her fingers through her choppy hair. "Maybe that's your answer, PXM? I built this world based on stuff contributed, but they say a part of a person exists in everything they fashion. We breathe life into our creations. We empower it. But now? Now no one out there in the real world is left to think about this world. Like God, everything will vanish when no one is empowering the belief in Him. When no one is keeping Him alive by dwelling on him. Maybe that childish paranoia is built in to the things I create? Especially here? I've been thinking this since last night."

Neste had been working quietly as Trice spoke. She'd pulled up as much data as possible but was limited to only what was recorded. She analyzed everything as it came in and then snorted loudly. "At precisely 0330, the day you reported to have arrived here, there was a hiccup. Thirteen seconds of data - an insurmountable amount in the grand sceme of things - is missing directly after it. There was a shift in light that is unexplainable. Shadows appear to have moved as if the sun itself was off course. I can't assess your exact moment of arrival here but it transpired later that day. To answer your unspoken question, I have found no footage of any of your missing companions. Your memory is only that of photographs seen but there hasn't been anyone matching your mental image of Torsi."

Trice rubbed her eyes. "See if you can access the thought stream. I wrote my nation into this game when Urran and Bran were being assholes and playing a really poorly done II. I placed my nation near Japan and sent a diplomatic liaison for the Chorus. Do not tap into the Nifid thought stream. I don't want the Nifid to become alerted to the possible that this universe might vanish. I wrote them into the story as well, when Dani attacked the last time. They'll panic and pull the Singularity from under the Building."

"You wrote that into this role play?" Neste had already picked Trice's mind for answers to life, the universe and everything and, although somewhat unsettled, she had come to realize that the Witherward here was in fact and in part the Witherward she came from. Construct religion was difficult to fathom but the reality of reality and her own existence was something that they held true as a belief.

"I wrote it in long ago," Trice explained, "For shit and grins when Dab and Tsu kept fucking with the Bomb Shelter."

"Well, you're fucked, if I do say so and pardon my French. I'll reinforce the barriers between myself and the Nifid and keep that on the down low."

Trice nodded to her and slumped back in the chair. "The plan is to find a way to connect to Nation States. The key, and why it would be difficult to do from Temmo's perspective, is to connect using my account. I'm the worldbuilder. I fashion things because you guys ask for them. And right now, I need to focus on keeping things from fading. I'll need your help."

"Alright, you wrote the physics." PXM replied. Although he though his hypothesis was practically the same, only more elegant and detailed than the ancedote. He'd rather not argue with his friend who had poured more detail into this world than anyone else in the room. "What would I kill to get Aperture's Multiverse Device? Or have Elizabeth Comstock show up? Not those gus from Sliders though, they are lost." He mused, still wandering in his fandoms.

[Fvaarniimar]

With a sigh, Fvaar retrieved her glasses, which she'd been meaning to get adjusted so that they wouldn't fall off of her face. If only I'd done that BEFORE this happened, but biology apparently wasn't effective. Tucking the now dirt-y feather back in its spot near her right ear and grabbing her clothing bundle which fortunately she had knotted shut, the girl brushed off some more dirt and smiled. "Great. I can't seem to remember your name. Either of them. I think we met before- in person that is... Anyway, you'd know me as Fvaar. I'm pretty awful with names." Not in the sense of being awe-inspiring, either.

Fvaar's experience put her in line of sight of something but it might have taken her mind a moment to catch up. It had been low to the ground and overshadowed by a stall (the very stall that NA had dreamed of). It was roughly 2" x 2" and directly below the mural on the wall. Unlike the mural, which was at eye level, this object was roughly 6" from the ground.

A pineapple.

Fvaar half-consciously noticed it as she was getting up, turned around, and then had a feeling she'd missed something. Whirling back to her original orientation, the girl gasped. "Hey, am I seeing things here? Guys! There appears to be a pineapple- a carving of one- under the odd rabbit-fish mural. Wait, is that MB? Anyway, maybe we need to do something to it?" What that was, Fvaar didn't know... Except wait a sec- "Jacob, do you still have that key?!"

[New Aksarben]

Fvaar's experience put her in line of sight of something but it might have taken her mind a moment to catch up. It had been low to the ground and overshadowed by a stall (the very stall that NA had dreamed of). It was roughly 2" x 2" and directly below the mural on the wall. Unlike the mural, which was at eye level, this object was roughly 6" from the ground.

A pineapple.

Fvaar half-consciously noticed it as she was getting up, turned around, and then had a feeling she'd missed something. Whirling back to her original orientation, the girl gasped. "Hey, am I seeing things here? Guys! There appears to be a pineapple- a carving of one- under the odd rabbit-fish mural. Wait, is that MB? Anyway, maybe we need to do something to it?" What that was, Fvaar didn't know... Except wait a sec- "Jacob, do you still have that key?!"

Jacob was a bit surprised by her sudden outburst, but he heard 'pineapple', his name, and keys. "O-oh, yeah. I do have them. Did you see a place for the keys to go?" He asked, digging a hand into his jacket pocket, searching for the keys. Once they were found, he extended his hand, crouching down so he was on a similar level as Fvaar to hand her the keys. "Do you need the pineapple as well? I still have that, too....."

Jacob peered over underneath the stall, seeing the bottom of the pineapple shape from his crouched position. "Hmmm... Interesting. A pineapple shape on a mural of fish-MB.... Yeah, its probably another thing for Tilt, I'd say."

[Tiltjuice]

"Somebody say my name?" Tilt appeared again in the middle of NA, Fvaar and Serina (he'd been standing behind them for a time, gazing about and conversing with the fish seller).

"Yes, from the Monty Python films. Someday I will have to test out the speed of an unladen penguin. And no worries, Serina. I won't hit you." He grinned. "The fish seller was just mentioning that there's a lot of fresh catches of the day, but unfortunately there aren't very many restaurant staff showing up to buy. A pity, really."

[The BranRiech]

"Is there a bus service out there?" Bran asked, confused as well. He had a rough idea of what the place looked like, or what he always thought it should look like, and he also knew the name too, so that was a start. "I could cab it up too, if I had money." He shrugged, pulling his pockets clean out. Char!Bran never stored stuff in his pockets, besides his wallet, and that must have vanished with the characters.

[Cerillium]

Ren turned to find Smith (and didn't see him) and then turned back to the dockworker but he was gone. He had a momentary panic attack and would have freaked completely were James and Bran not still there beside him.

"Right," he breathed out slowly. He scanned the crowds and spotted Smith near a bus. He assumed the man was headed towards downtown. It was just him and James now. Or so he thought. A moment later, the large Japanese man was hiking up a leg and cringing like a school girl. Turtleboss had waddled down in search of them.

Unlike Trice, Ren held no love of wondrous things such as tardigrades. Tiny, multicellular critters swimming in water and shitting in what might possibly be the only drinking source available to a stranded human? No. Boopsie was fun to write but seeing something half her size was still seeing something too large for his liking. The hairs on Ren's arms and the back of his neck prickled. He struggled with the idea of running away but mastered his impulses.

"What?" he growled at the thing. He winched as it threw itself against his ankles like a bloated, hairless cat.

Turtleboss grunted and tipped its freakish head up to observe the man with its eye spots. It stretched, each segment momentarily drawing inwards as sharp disks scraped the ground. Ren shuddered. Exactly like a cat. Ren thought of Zen Cat back home (bastard was probably eating the corners off his books and clawing his couches) and realized that he held the water bear in the same regard: cute for some, repulsive for others.

"What?" he asked again. He nudged the thing away from him with his toe.

Turtleboss turned and waddled back the way he came. He paused near the wall and turned around to see if the men were coming.

"Bran, you should do the airport. Want to take James with you? Bus service in Bielefeld is free. Goes from Market to there and back again. I'm going to see if that soothe-seer is about. Two Saints. Whatever her name is."