Personification Life IC IX - [Semi Open]

[Monfrox]

"The money should most likely be left here, and not burnt. Even if the vault has a ventilation duct, the rising smoke can broadcast our position, either by sight or smell. Nocturnal creatures with night vision or acute senses of smell will pick us up. Not only that, but more of those machines may come as well, and we already set up a fire at the last post, so if anyone had followed it, then they may be on the lookout for another fire tonight. We need to be more careful than we already have been. And you also don't want to weigh yourself down with anything unnecessary." Varona told the group. Whether she was playing adult or just making an advisement, she still had some good points.

[Swith Witherward]

"The money should most likely be left here, and not burnt. Even if the vault has a ventilation duct, the rising smoke can broadcast our position, either by sight or smell. Nocturnal creatures with night vision or acute senses of smell will pick us up. Not only that, but more of those machines may come as well, and we already set up a fire at the last post, so if anyone had followed it, then they may be on the lookout for another fire tonight. We need to be more careful than we already have been. And you also don't want to weigh yourself down with anything unnecessary." Varona told the group. Whether she was playing adult or just making an advisement, she still had some good points.

Turtleboss felt that Varona's advice was sound. The waterbear pressed himself against her leg and hummed in support of it before nosing her to see if she had any food handy.

“Where in Fek'lhr do you all think you’re going?” The portly warrior asked gruffly, having stayed outside with a few more of his men while he polished off the rest of the bloodwine for the targ hide canteen. He wiped his whiskers with his forearm, a belch muffled by it but the odor was enough for Mezran to make a low rumble, or perhaps it was the question that annoyed him more.

Glaring at the old warrior, Mezran responded impatiently while putting his weapons away, “Where we please! Where else!?”

“We have more caves to to burn those yIntagh'pu out of existence, you cannot leave now!” The old man said with a huff, fussing over his worn leather glove while he was at it.

“Then as I told the young pup in there, deal with them, we’ve had our fill and we have slain more of those vermin that half the guild out here! Our actions are worthy of song and drink! Now be on your way, or I’ll feed you to the scum myself!”

The old man chortled, thinking it a joke and perhaps it was given how cuddly and innocuous the creatures were, “As though they have a taste for Klingon flesh!”

“They will from you!” Mezran said, a snide grin forming and gained the captain a mumbled curse from the old man who shook his head, seeing no reason to pursue the matter any longer.

Not wasting another moment with the newcomers, the tribblegroup left and began their march back to the city. Mezran hummed a few songs he knew of as they marched back which soon turned out to be a one man chorus as his voice coincided with the stomping of his boots and the swing of his arms in dramatic performance for a few verses. He didn’t know if his voice was any pleasant and the warrior was too elated for a day well spent to care. The saving grace being his weapons were sheathed lest he faced two cultists and a conservator to which he truly knew not of their true potential if they got annoyed. The heat had lessened considerably, like a blanket that managed to capture the fading warmth of a body, fleeting yet comfortable, and thus their hike back to Varth was quicker than usual.

The city was busy as usual, but with the sun setting to the east, (yes east, because Qo’Nos is odd like that), its residents were moving at a different pace as though the energy in them were waning and not so frazzled as it was earlier in the morning. The little ones however ran around with the same vigor they had this morning, some with fake swords and spears and the adults were torn from chastising their children or doing business with merchants. Dotting the streets were warriors from all corners of the homeworld, also returning to their stations while some kept vigilance in maintaining the city's security. Varth’s Chosen already had its doors open to a few that had made it back before them.

The old crone was standing outside.

“So, got tired of fighting the parasitic filth did you? Maybe you’ll do better in Kahless’ campaign, its less strenuous than fighting a horde of fur, I hear, much easier challenge for the sorry lot of you.”

Mezran glowered at the woman, he bared his teeth in a sharp smile, “This must be your usual charm, how else could you have been matriarch of this place for this long.”

The crone chuckled, shaking her head, “Inside, inside, there’s food and drink to be had. Our next campaign against the vermin won’t begin for another two cycles and we have bounty to divvy up.”

“Good!” Mezran cheered, he turned to face his companions, “Come, my friends! Let us feast!”

Though the captain looked forward to a good meal and a stiff drink, the Klingon would find a twist – a pang – of… what was it? Guilt? Sadness? He didn’t know how to classify it, only that he knew by the end of the night, when the moon was at its peak, they would be gone.

It took everything in Ha'nS' power to restrain himself from slapping the fat Klingon. A softly mumbled "für fucken willen" escaped his lips but the sound failed to catch anyone's attention. Mezran's... marching song? Is that singing? Is he dying? What the hell?... noise was tolerable right up until Dolf joined in. The younger cultist didn't know the words and the resulting din was like nails on a chalkboard to Ha'nS' ears. He focused on ChryS instead, occupying his mind with naughty thoughts as they hiked back to town.

Ha'nS figured the fat Klingon would corroborate any tales they told that night. His primary concern was a good meal, some strong drink and perhaps wooing ChryS under an alien moon. The old crone's words brought those imaginings down a bit. Campaign? To kill innocent fuzzballs who were only doing what came natural? Yet this wasn't his planet or people and it wasn't his choice to make. He was accountable to himself and to the avatar he worked for. What others did wasn't his concern as long as they held to their principles and acted with honor.

"A feast is in order. Thousands died by our hands," Ru'hOff barked and clapped Mezran on the back. He leaned closer and whispered, "It's a pity we can't liberate a few barrels before we go."

[Giovenith]

"Sure! I might not be able to pull barrels or anything, but lounge couches should be pretty easy," Giovenith agreed, assuming for now that the office spaces would provide couches of the smaller variety, due to the minuscule nature of the spaces themselves. Those would be possible for her to push, but not exactly the easiest of tasks, one other person of any build could help her with the task.

She smiled, shook her head, and huff-chuckled at the mention of the money, and it's uses for either burning or spending. Twas the fickle nature of eternity: making kings of commoners, commoners of kings, poverty of riches, riches of poverty, and so on, and so on. Amazing how the things could swap purpose on a whim of fate alone. Varona had brought up the most valid position, and Giovenith trusted her senses on the matter. Money wasn't all that tempting to her anyway, as she desired few things, and those things were things she had nigh criminal-easy access to.

"Only after we do our chores," Giovenith chastised her friends at the mention of the Teen Club, but in an exaggerated sense that gave away she was merely jesting. It was true though, when forced to survive, the necessities came before the fun. Some thought it more rewarding that way. "And we let everyone play along. Hey, if we're alright with magic now, can I bring out a stronger flashlight from my pockets? Or was that just for the emergencies? Either way, we can probably find light."

[Monfrox]

Varona tensed up when she felt something push against her calf. She instinctively put her pistol to it, only to find a small and seemingly harmless creature. She bent down and picked it up with her last two hands and held it up. "Well...an interesting creature. A denizen of this world, perhaps?" Each arm was now occupied, save for the one still waiting for Bran to return her pistol.

[New Aksarben]

"I could help carry couches if we're allowed to use magic freely. If not I could at least help if we still have things to harness me to things. Also, I can create magic light sources to light up places if needed, and my own magic creates light when I use it. So I suppose I can be a torch for our group until we find better sources of light? I'm not sure, but I would like to help and feel useful." Sterling said happily, trotting up alongside Giovenith and the group she was with. He nodded towards Kale before continuing to speak.

"Oh, and Thanks Kale, but it was really nothing, just telekinesis inside of the door to force all the tumblers into place while I can't see them. sort of like using my magic as a lock-pick I suppose. I'm not anything special; There are many other unicorns who are much more powerful than I am after all. Glad there wasn't any dangerous defense system in place that could have hurt me though. Or at least if there had been it's gone now."

[Germanic Templars]

Oh boy . . .

Natiya had no idea that she'd get any choice in the matter, and thought to herself for a few seconds. If she was going to have a set of armor, it would obviously be her favorite colors. "Hmm, well the colors should be easy enough, but I'll need a runthrough of the materials I could choose from." She nodded in understanding. "The main color should be blue, same as my clothes right now, and then with the detail coloring as white and black."

She looked through the Holo-pad, trying to decipher what was on it.

"Ya." He remarked as he placed in on the system. The man then reached over to the wall off to his right and pressed on a pressure pad that caused a tv monitor to appear up from the counter between them. On it was her suit of armor with blue and black in the T-model rotating in a 360^o to show off the back and front of the armor.

"Nov, zhis is vhere zhings get interesting. Armor patterns, ve have a fev. Ve have one vhere zhe pattern, or line comes down zhe arms and zhe side of zhe legs. Vhe also have one vhere zhe pattern outline each piece of zhe armor. Hovever, zhat is for zhe arms and legs. Two common ones, of course. Chest und shoulders as vell as zhe helmet can be completely customized. From pattern to emblem on it, to type. I mean, you can have shoulder pads as big as a Son of Conquest, vhich I don't recommend due to veight, to small or no shoulder pads at all, ya? Same goes with knee pads as vell." The jolly man explained in full.

Aleki looked at her, "Seems like you got a good choice of selections, too bad the military never gave that to me for my armor."

[Giovenith]

"That's my pet," Giovenith gently corrected Varona, before nodding and smiling to Sterling. "I would be very grateful for your help, Sterling!"

Everything was going well so far, though Giovenith still had worries for the long-run. Like whether or not they would make it home. Still, the important thing was focus on and appreciate the small things in life.

[The BranRiech]

"Yeah, we set up camp. I suppose the Nanite things can't get in, and since that's known, we're about as safe here as we were in the Apartment's lobby then." Bran voiced his concerns, finding not too many for the safety of where they currently were, in fact, it felt a little safer to him than the apartment, with the holes all over the roof and walls.

"Seems fine to me, although we could at least try to make it safer, or find somewhere better in the bank."

--

Taking the screen into focus, Natiya sighed, too many choices. "For patterns? Hmm, I like the second option, with each piece of armor outlined, and then for the chest, I'd like it a bit form-fitting, if possible . . ." She blushed slightly at that, figuring she could wear a vest over it or something. "Then probably something a bit medium on the shoulder pads, and then light on the knee-pads."

She looked to Aleki, wondering if he approved.

[Torsiedelle]

"Yea, we do have to work things out before we can have fun. Despite the situation, I'd love to spend time with everybody.", Torii said, plopping down on the floor. "I feel mighty safe with FUBAR and Varona around. Where's Dia, though? The guy still jumpin' about out there?"

She was still picking money off of the ground, looking at those with the more value, and putting them away for when she got back home. She'd probably buy some new shorts and shirts, and then some presents for everyone, or maybe stash it away for a rainy day. She didn't consider herself greedy, but the thought of burning money was too painful for her.

[Monfrox]

"Your....pet..." She mused over the words and now had to decide what was stranger: The creature, or the girl taking care of it. Then, she cast that judgement aside. Hell, the Guardian was crazy enough to domesticate a Psy Dog that could pry into unsuspecting people's minds at will. That relationship took trust to the utmost degree. She then looked to Torii. For a split second, her expression was just that much softer behind her mask. It was always nice to be appreciated.

[Germanic Templars]

Taking the screen into focus, Natiya sighed, too many choices. "For patterns? Hmm, I like the second option, with each piece of armor outlined, and then for the chest, I'd like it a bit form-fitting, if possible . . ." She blushed slightly at that, figuring she could wear a vest over it or something. "Then probably something a bit medium on the shoulder pads, and then light on the knee-pads."

She looked to Aleki, wondering if he approved.

Aleki nodded. He would approve whatever she choose.

"You mean like zhe digital patterns?" The German asked as he typed some stuff in onto his data pad. Instantly the suit on the monitor showed that of a digital chest piece with blue on it with some shades of black and everything between the two.

"Zhis work, ya?"

[The BranRiech]

Aleki nodded. He would approve whatever she choose.

"You mean like zhe digital patterns?" The German asked as he typed some stuff in onto his data pad. Instantly the suit on the monitor showed that of a digital chest piece with blue on it with some shades of black and everything between the two.

"Zhis work, ya?"

"Yes, wonderfully."

Natiya smiled at her idea, her mind's creation, that this was a unique set of armor that she would be receiving. Of course, she probably never had enough money to ever repay this to Aleki, but it was amazing that he was willing to do this for her. She simply loved visiting Aleki's homeworld with him, and this was just extra fun, but she was definitely interested as well.

"And now you guys make it? I'm a bit new to this place." She asked politely.

[Germanic Templars]

Aleki nodded. He would approve whatever she choose.

"You mean like zhe digital patterns?" The German asked as he typed some stuff in onto his data pad. Instantly the suit on the monitor showed that of a digital chest piece with blue on it with some shades of black and everything between the two.

"Zhis work, ya?"

"Yes, wonderfully."

Natiya smiled at her idea, her mind's creation, that this was a unique set of armor that she would be receiving. Of course, she probably never had enough money to ever repay this to Aleki, but it was amazing that he was willing to do this for her. She simply loved visiting Aleki's homeworld with him, and this was just extra fun, but she was definitely interested as well.

"And now you guys make it? I'm a bit new to this place." She asked politely.

The man laughed and replied, "No, now we choose zhe material you vish to have the armor made out of. Unfortunately ve are limited to five right nov. Each with zheir ovn perks und, sadly, flas." He looked down at his pad and showed up 5 materials on the screen as the suit was brushed off to the side.
"Virst ve have zhe Titanium Diboride. Zhree times stronger zhen steel, yet vearer best not get near electrical outlets or vhere electricity is due to its good conductivity, unless you get certain upgrades for it."

"Next ve have, Boron Carbide. Strong, vhat zhe used in tanks for zhe majority of zhe tventy virst century, but it's razher heavy. Cheap but heavy and possibly won't stop some modern ballistics."

"Next is a cheaper one, vhich is a titanium/palladium mixture. Cheap due to quantity, lighter zhan Boron Carbide."

"Eh...." He looked at the screen and saw a "0" next to the next material and looked back up, "Sorry, ve seem to be out of zhat material, don't vurry, von't bother to bring it up." He apologiszed before moving onto the last metal.

"Finest one ve got; Graphene. 200x stronger than steel, and zhat is just one atom thick. However, zhis is our most rarest, und most valuable one. Vhich is why we don't see graphene alone, rather, ve sell it vhith a 50mm, or two inches, of silicon carbide, very thin layer to it. Und those are your options, any questions?"

OOC: Slaughtered his accent, I feel. Care, I do not (Yoda talk, I speak in.hmhmhmhhmhmhm)

[Tiltjuice]

“Where in Fek'lhr do you all think you’re going?” The portly warrior asked gruffly, having stayed outside with a few more of his men while he polished off the rest of the bloodwine for the targ hide canteen. He wiped his whiskers with his forearm, a belch muffled by it but the odor was enough for Mezran to make a low rumble, or perhaps it was the question that annoyed him more.

Glaring at the old warrior, Mezran responded impatiently while putting his weapons away, “Where we please! Where else!?”

“We have more caves to to burn those yIntagh'pu out of existence, you cannot leave now!” The old man said with a huff, fussing over his worn leather glove while he was at it.

“Then as I told the young pup in there, deal with them, we’ve had our fill and we have slain more of those vermin that half the guild out here! Our actions are worthy of song and drink! Now be on your way, or I’ll feed you to the scum myself!”

The old man chortled, thinking it a joke and perhaps it was given how cuddly and innocuous the creatures were, “As though they have a taste for Klingon flesh!”

“They will from you!” Mezran said, a snide grin forming and gained the captain a mumbled curse from the old man who shook his head, seeing no reason to pursue the matter any longer.

Not wasting another moment with the newcomers, the tribblegroup left and began their march back to the city. Mezran hummed a few songs he knew of as they marched back which soon turned out to be a one man chorus as his voice coincided with the stomping of his boots and the swing of his arms in dramatic performance for a few verses. He didn’t know if his voice was any pleasant and the warrior was too elated for a day well spent to care. The saving grace being his weapons were sheathed lest he faced two cultists and a conservator to which he truly knew not of their true potential if they got annoyed. The heat had lessened considerably, like a blanket that managed to capture the fading warmth of a body, fleeting yet comfortable, and thus their hike back to Varth was quicker than usual.

The city was busy as usual, but with the sun setting to the east, (yes east, because Qo’Nos is odd like that), its residents were moving at a different pace as though the energy in them were waning and not so frazzled as it was earlier in the morning. The little ones however ran around with the same vigor they had this morning, some with fake swords and spears and the adults were torn from chastising their children or doing business with merchants. Dotting the streets were warriors from all corners of the homeworld, also returning to their stations while some kept vigilance in maintaining the city's security. Varth’s Chosen already had its doors open to a few that had made it back before them.

The old crone was standing outside.

“So, got tired of fighting the parasitic filth did you? Maybe you’ll do better in Kahless’ campaign, its less strenuous than fighting a horde of fur, I hear, much easier challenge for the sorry lot of you.”

Mezran glowered at the woman, he bared his teeth in a sharp smile, “This must be your usual charm, how else could you have been matriarch of this place for this long.”

The crone chuckled, shaking her head, “Inside, inside, there’s food and drink to be had. Our next campaign against the vermin won’t begin for another two cycles and we have bounty to divvy up.”

“Good!” Mezran cheered, he turned to face his companions, “Come, my friends! Let us feast!”

Though the captain looked forward to a good meal and a stiff drink, the Klingon would find a twist – a pang – of… what was it? Guilt? Sadness? He didn’t know how to classify it, only that he knew by the end of the night, when the moon was at its peak, they would be gone.

It took everything in Ha'nS' power to restrain himself from slapping the fat Klingon. A softly mumbled "für fucken willen" escaped his lips but the sound failed to catch anyone's attention. Mezran's... marching song? Is that singing? Is he dying? What the hell?... noise was tolerable right up until Dolf joined in. The younger cultist didn't know the words and the resulting din was like nails on a chalkboard to Ha'nS' ears. He focused on ChryS instead, occupying his mind with naughty thoughts as they hiked back to town.

Ha'nS figured the fat Klingon would corroborate any tales they told that night. His primary concern was a good meal, some strong drink and perhaps wooing ChryS under an alien moon. The old crone's words brought those imaginings down a bit. Campaign? To kill innocent fuzzballs who were only doing what came natural? Yet this wasn't his planet or people and it wasn't his choice to make. He was accountable to himself and to the avatar he worked for. What others did wasn't his concern as long as they held to their principles and acted with honor.

"A feast is in order. Thousands died by our hands," Ru'hOff barked and clapped Mezran on the back. He leaned closer and whispered, "It's a pity we can't liberate a few barrels before we go."

"We can't?" ChryS said, mindful of Ha'nS' eyes on her but not sure what to do about it. She lowered her voice. "Do you still have infinite pockets? I could throw a distraction, if you want."

[The BranRiech]

She obviously wanted some Graphene, but Natiya knew better. If Aleki was fine with it though, she'd certainly take that option sooner than all the others, though the first one seemed fine enough, just probably shouldn't get near some electricity then. She figured she'd consult Aleki in this case. "So wait, which type is your armor made from, or is it something different? I'd like the Graphene, but I don't seem too keen on the cost very much unless you are."

Turning back to the lively clerk, she smiled.

"My apologies if this is taking longer than usual." She grinned, blushing still.

[Terintania]

Nex had remained silent as they got the door open and planned and whatnot, simply looking around and taking everything in. After a while, though, he spoke up,"Am told me some new information. He said that the nanites come at dawn and dusk, every day. So that's another thing to keep in mind as we travel." With that, he simply leaned against the wall and looked around. He seemed willing to help if anyone had a task for him, but didn't seem to know of anything to do currently, so he just stood there.

[Germanic Templars]

She obviously wanted some Graphene, but Natiya knew better. If Aleki was fine with it though, she'd certainly take that option sooner than all the others, though the first one seemed fine enough, just probably shouldn't get near some electricity then. She figured she'd consult Aleki in this case. "So wait, which type is your armor made from, or is it something different? I'd like the Graphene, but I don't seem too keen on the cost very much unless you are."

Turning back to the lively clerk, she smiled.

"My apologies if this is taking longer than usual." She grinned, blushing still.

"Nah, take your time." The man reassured. "Zhe price is M2.54 million coins. Steep, but vhat is the price of a life?"

Aleki looked at her and nodded in agreement. He had the money, and the job to support, so no as an answer he could say no to.

The man then continued, "Made here in zhe forges of zhe factory, so only zhe finest ve can make. Graphene, however, is more lab made, still here zhough."

[The BranRiech]

"Well, I'll definitely take the Graphene, but if that's not possible, then I'll take the first one." Natiya smiled. Her mind was made up about it, and she finally figured she would get her armor. "Oh, Aleki. I really appreciate this."

She turned back to the Man behind the counter.

"Thanks to you too."

[Cerillium]

Nex had remained silent as they got the door open and planned and whatnot, simply looking around and taking everything in. After a while, though, he spoke up,"Am told me some new information. He said that the nanites come at dawn and dusk, every day. So that's another thing to keep in mind as we travel." With that, he simply leaned against the wall and looked around. He seemed willing to help if anyone had a task for him, but didn't seem to know of anything to do currently, so he just stood there.

"Dusk and dawn?" Marcus furrowed his brow. "The question is, why? And can anyone here make light? I have just this small electric torch."

His hope was to raid the offices for everything they could get that might help them along the way. A forgotten jacket, a calendar to tell them what year this all happened, anything. Even a street map marking branch locations could be useful.

[Germanic Templars]

"Well, I'll definitely take the Graphene, but if that's not possible, then I'll take the first one." Natiya smiled. Her mind was made up about it, and she finally figured she would get her armor. "Oh, Aleki. I really appreciate this."

She turned back to the Man behind the counter.

"Thanks to you too."

Aleki said nothing but smiled at her. The man said, "It is nozhing, just my job. Now zhen, ve have add-ons you can place on und in zhe suit." He quickly brought up a list of items onto the main screen.

Add-ons

• Suit insulation
• O2 reserves
• Kinetic barrier
• Auto cooling system
• jet pack
• burst/jump pack
• cloaking
• Built in daggers

[Mincaldenteans]

"A feast is in order. Thousands died by our hands," Ru'hOff barked and clapped Mezran on the back. He leaned closer and whispered, "It's a pity we can't liberate a few barrels before we go."

"We can't?" ChryS said, mindful of Ha'nS' eyes on her but not sure what to do about it. She lowered her voice. "Do you still have infinite pockets? I could throw a distraction, if you want."

Mezran shook his head, “No distractions are needed for such a prize. We have earned in through combat! Our price is meager compared to what we could demand!”

As they made their way deeper into the hall, the smell of pungent foods permeated and mixed with the warm interior, fire pits crackled and its flame gave the room a dark silhouetted atmosphere. The walls were redecorated, with paintings, statues and weapons (real weapons) on display. The tables were full of food, how Varth’s Chosen managed such a feast on a regular basis was nothing short of a miraculous considering Klingons’ bottomless stomachs. Mezran bit back a laugh, realizing why the guild had forgone with physical aesthetics in lieu of keeping their warriors’ stomachs full. The dining hall wasn’t as occupied as they last seen and the place, despite being as warm as a sauna, was clean for last night’s debauchery. The cleanliness, or whatever passed for in Klingon standards, would not last long; soon scores of their comrades would return and another night of celebration would rival the previous in food and song.

“And what do you want for you and your companions’ troubles?” A woman asked from the far end, having caught snippets of their conservation – or at least Mezran’s response.

“Bloodwine! And warnog!” Mezran all but demanded with a huff, seating himself to the same table as the woman.

She rolled her eyes, “Yes yes, everyone wants those, what else?”

Mezran thought about it for a moment, “your Rokeg blood pie recipe.”

The woman choked on her laugh, sputtering at first in disbelief before it turned into a full out guffaw. “What’s the matter, you great oaf? Your woman can’t make a decent blood pie? No wonder you are here!”

Mezran scowled at her, but couldn’t hide his own grin, “I have no wife, but my mate to be never knew when to stop with the spice. It was always a battle between her affections and my hatred for those pies.” The woman laughed as she listened, sipping on bloodwine carefully. Mezran took note, pretending not to by distracting himself with a plate of racht, still fresh, to start off. He also realized this was a bit more history about himself that he never talked about in the open. Oh well, his companions would listen and learn on the way.

“Did she at least bake it right?”

“Hence my battle,” Mezran said with a gruff laugh of his own, shoving a half fistful of racht into his mouth. He talked and chewed at the same time, “The recipe, barrels of drink and perhaps a few of those weapons on the wall.”

The female perked an eyebrow, “You ask quite little, you do realize?”

“I ask enough,” Mezran said carefully. There was the timeline to consider after all. A few weapons of the ancient time would be a proud collection to put on display in his own house and the drink was balm enough for days when the heart grew fond of home.

“As you wish, and you three? What do you wish for your bounty? Our guild will provide whatever you want within its ability.”

[The BranRiech]

"I think I'd like to have the Auto-cooling system just so I'm not flooding the suit with sweat and whatnot, and probably the . . . Uhm . . . What's the Kinetic Barrier all about?" She asked, interested by the idea. The other ones turned her off of them though, if she was trusted with a Jetpack, then society had failed her somehow, and she'd probably just end up hurting someone with it.

Her smile betrayed none of this though.

[Germanic Templars]

"I think I'd like to have the Auto-cooling system just so I'm not flooding the suit with sweat and whatnot, and probably the . . . Uhm . . . What's the Kinetic Barrier all about?" She asked, interested by the idea. The other ones turned her off of them though, if she was trusted with a Jetpack, then society had failed her somehow, and she'd probably just end up hurting someone with it.

Her smile betrayed none of this though.

"Zhat is simple, it's an energized barrier zhat protects the user from some falls und some small rounds, not great against modern ballistics, but can help soften the blow by a tiny bit. Und great choice on zhe auto cooling system. Now vith zhe add ons und armor type, und zhe patterns und colors complete, ve come to our last stop: Ze helmet. Don't vurry, zhe materials used in it are zhe same as in zhe armor, und you don't have to choose the glass type either. Just modules.

Here is zhe list for them:

• Auto lock-on
• built in map
• target assist
• night vision
• infrared
• suit synchronizer
• shield monitor
• radar
• automatic translator

[Primordial Luxa]

"Each part of his body is compressed and combined into that powder." Primordial said walking back to the books "One specks his thumb, another his neck, another his shoulder. I have to find the chemicals that can heal him and then I can use the rites of the Lurker to bring him back."

Naomi pushed aside thoughts of Aegis reforming missing a thumb or an eye simply because someone forgot to scrap the flake from the cauldron. It was an unsettling feeling.

"Lurker? Bones is going to help?"

Her eyes scanned the room in expectation of an old and familiar face squeezing out from between two books. Maybe he was hiding under a desk or in someone's pocket. But no, that was foolish. He hadn't been by in a long while. She embraced the painful twinge that pierced her heart and let out a soft sigh. "I suppose not, huh?"

"Different Lurker hun." Insidious replied walking over towards the piles of books and picking one up. She examined it briefly her skin taking on a leather like pattern before she handed it to Naomi. "Care to help us do a little bit of research?"

[Fvaarniimar]

And so it was by a freak occurrence of circumstances and a hell of a lot of GM godmoddery that several people all attempted to open the door at the exact same time. The sound of clattering dice caused the dog to lift his head. He studied the small blackish cubes as they skipped across the hard surface of the GM's home office and, without even so much as saying 'please', he grabbed the top percentile the moment it dropped to the floor. Thus, everyone was spared great sorrow because, without that all-important die, everyone managed to make the saving throw.

(The dog couldn't care less and was more concerned over the rough manhandling he received the moment his owner thrust a finger into his sharp-toothed Pomeranian mouth to pry the die out again. Damn dog.)

Sterling's magic unlocked the door just as Bran and Marcus lashed out with their legs. The result was the door swinging open with a bang and nearly hitting Nick as he dropped from the vent. Bran and Marcus tumbled forward into the teller area. Luckily for everyone else, Varona wasn't spooked and didn't accidentally discharge her weapon and FUBAR was actually watching the door-busting efforts and thus didn't register any untoward threat at the loud sound.

Because I really did try to kill some of you. Call it spite. Call it whimsy. You should all send dog treats to Keba in gratitude.

Bran and Marcus had a better view of the teller area now. The space hadn't seen traffic in some time and it was apparent that people fled quickly. Money littered the floor and several drawers were still open. A set of keys had been dropped and was covered in a dusty layer. One of them was bound to unlock the door marked Private.

Marcus took the keys and unlocked the door. It opened onto a rather dark hallway where the employees had a lounge, the management had offices and, of course, the safe was located. The safe was a behemoth which contained lock boxes; the main door was ajar (because the die is soaking in soapy water); the inner area much too dark to see into. Little if any natural light crept past the teller area.

The lad peered at Bran and then at the companions still in the bank lobby. "Do we set up camp?" His mind was now dwelling on the fact that something had averted the nanites from exploring the bank and he wondered if it was as unoccupied as it seemed.

Nick was a cat; cats have notoriously good balance and a tendency to land on their feet, coming out of worse falls than this one with hardly a scratch. Nick also had some body parts which were more than a bit out of proportion. Normally he could compensate for this due to his human-level intellect, but this time around there were other factors. The cat had been on edge for almost a day, mind working overtime (especially where powers were concerned), being pushed and pushing himself to the majority of his non-physical limits. Additionally, he had not expected to fall.

His concentration had been subpar, his landing just slightly off. The result was that, while he had landed in such a manner as to avoid most injuries save for a slightly sprained toe and a bruised paw, he had toppled over and some of the excess kinetic energy had gone towards knocking him out, bruising his right side in the process.

Of course, all of a few moments later, Nick yawned, rolled over, and twitched. He was about to slip into a nightmare (unsurprising, given his past and current situation.) The nightmare in question would not quite have woken him- had he been a normal cat. Having to deal with a low-ish level of fear for a few minutes, after a lifetime of having been conditioned to become extremely alert, immediately, whenever he felt that way, and having gotten sufficient rest already on top of that-

Nick snapped out of it, eyes shooting open, claws extending, wincing from said injuries. He got to his feet so quickly that his limbs started splaying out under him- he quickly corrected it. In the same few instants, he reviewed recent memories-

And concluded that it had been a false alarm. Probably triggered by a nightmare. Well, at least that meant not having continued said nightmare- but he still would have facepalmed (-pawed? -padded? -pawpadded?), had he had the cultural background to find such an action to be a logical reaction. It had- to him, although his companions likely had noticed little- been rather embarrassing, a clear display of weaknesses at a time when all parties concerned desperately needed to be strong.

(Though he'd gladly have endured a hundred such moments to have that power, or for that matter that subconscious response to it. It had saved him more than a few times.)

(Still. He was sentient, mind in ways comparable to a human's. At times these were an inconvenience. It was human nature,and apparently Nick's as well, occasionally to whine about such...)