PL IC Thread IX++ //Oddsbodikins & Atomic Kittens//

[Monfrox]

Brit groaned. The last little hazy thing she remembered was doing karaoke in a Prison in front of the guards. Where this was, she had no idea. The loud music jolted her awake. Despite being a heavy sleeper, she still had overly sensitive hearing. She slowly opened her eyes. "Whah thuh fug issa..." She asked no one in particular. Then came the rude wake-up call that was being suddenly body-slammed by someone. "HURK! ....ACK! ...Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeehh......." Her gagging ended abruptly like the sound of an old cartoon car's engine dying as she gave up trying to get up from being pinned.

Mon herself was a heavy sleeper too, as she only stirred after falling on the girl under her. She didn't look much like her other self that just arrived to the apartment, but rather like the older one before she left. She was wearing a long brown cloak that had seen better days over her usual attire (though her pants would need to be mended now), and she had the big long tail and wolf ears that she was most notable for in her time at the apartment. She was older and taller as well, and her eyes were different as well. She sat up and looked down at the girl under her. "Don't I...know you?" She asked.

Brit couldn't be bothered to answer as she gasped for air after having her airwaves unrestricted again. She slowly sat up when the front doors opened up a bit. Varona, who was on her way down with the other three Froxians for something to eat, had decided to try and find out what the hell was going on outside. What she found resembled something out of a natural disaster if it had been tainted by the insanity of the internet or some sort, but she saw one out of all the rest, and after calling into the communal dining room, she stepped out. She took her mask off and, for perhaps the first time since she arrived, genuinely smiled. The front door slowly crept open behind her.

"MOOOOMMMMAAAAAA!!!" Sinyaya cried happily as she bolted towards Mon. She laughed happily as Mon braced herself before being tackled into a hug. The two fell backwards onto Brit, who responded by gasping for air again. It was lost to the two perpetrators, though. Mon lightly pecked the forehead of Sinyaya as the little girl squeezed her tight as she could. Mon returned the hug and chuckled softly to herself as she sat up off Brit (who was grateful).

"My, you've grown so big!" She said, standing up and putting the girl on her shoulders. Sinyaya just giggled, elated to have seen her mother again after a long time. Mon looked around at the scene before her, and reminisced about past Zalgofests and other fun events that happened when she was living here. Varona, who was only slightly taller than Mon, walked up next to her.

"It hasn't been a walk in the park, but I believe I've made some great progress with her here. This place is a lot more welcoming than the Zone." She commented.

"I'm glad. You're doing well, old friend." Mon replied, throwing and arm around Varona's shoulder. It was a good thing her cloak covered her waist, as there was quite a hole in her shorts (at least it was tight-fitting so that it didn't fall off easily too).

[Torsiedelle]

Katya laid back and laughed even harder. "You're too drunk.", She said. As she fell quiet, Katya turned to the side and raised an eyebrow to Tsu. "Tamashi?", She said. "You're from Japan, then? I had a Japanese friend once."

She stopped with her playful tone and sat back up on her hands and knees, getting closer. "I don't think I like them very much after all of that drama...but I'm in no mood to sob...I'm kind of tipsy..."

She hiccuped, then began to giggle again.

[Rygondria]

A bump, a skip, a screech, and explosion or three, everyone tasted plaid, and then…………

One could assume that the dimension had grown accustomed to the depraved, twisted debauchery of dubious morality that occurred with regularity in the tiny spec of land known as Bielefeld. One could also assume that these events sprung up from nowhere and with no catalyst other than the whims of the population. Yes, one could assume this - they would be mistaken. None of this could be blamed on Naomi alone, though.

The party had once again spread out of the building and into the city itself, which took on an air of an out of control frat party. The drunken revelry grew in intensity like a pustulant boil blighting the otherwise flawless night until it seemed that it could no longer be contained by the confines of reason, sanity and the space-time continuum itself. It quavered on the edge and strove to expand just a little bit further but, failing to have room to wiggle in, it exploded into messy logic. The catalyst motivating the participants suddenly dropped from the revelers like water from a bucket. And so, all over town, people came to their senses with a snap, and realized they were doing some pretty wild (or horrid or downright naughty) things…

The majority of madness had taken place at the corner of Subabsurdus and Main. Bodies littered the lawn, passed out drunk. Party streamers graced the entire town, apparently shot out of streamer cannons from the Building’s roof. Loudspeakers blared music into the night on the tail-end of a 10-hour loop. But that was just the tip of the iceberg…

The walls of the lobby were covered in writing and symbols, the insane ramblings of a mad man about some entity called "Zalgo". The inside of the elevator car had been filled to the brim with milk duds and jolly ranchers littered the lobby floor. The exterior of the Building itself was a Pepto Bismol shade of pink. Near the side of the building was a smoldering bus set on blocks.

Bran was gripping the bus steering wheel but it wasn’t going anywhere. He was making engine noises and accompanied them with screeches to simulate driving tight corners at a breakneck speed. NVE was perched on the 'missing' tired now located behind Bran's seat. He was holding a small radio. It was currently playing static. Both were wearing Hawaiian leis.

Giovenith and Rmwtyliin were sitting in the back of the bus. They weren’t alone however; Arthur waved at the pair and held his plastic cup out for Giovenith to fill. Duncan rested in Rmwtyliin’s cup. Kwa'a - or "Duck" – Bhewehg was slouched over the back of a bus seat, presenting her bottom to the tea party participants.

Reginald was standing in the aisle and pointing a broom handle at a StrexPet. Kale was directing a piece of ivy to attack the Building, but neither the Building nor ivy was moving.

Pippa-Michelle and Turtleboss were playing a game of tag with Conservators. Turtleboss wailed when tagged and ran for the Building's back door.

Tsu was lying on her back on the leaves that littered the back yard. She was shooting at paper helicopters suspended from the laundry line – with only her finger and thumb. She was nearly trampled by a galloping hippopotamus ridden by Kei and Kayta. Both females fell off just as the hippo jumped over Tsu.

Primordial and Insidious were playing bingo with Pedobear and some Branriech conscripts. Nobody was calling any numbers except for one conscript (he kept shouting "B-4!")

Monfrox was dangling from a tree branch by the seat of her pants. The pants ripped and she dropped to the ground, landing on Brit.

Willow and Nick were screaming their heads off as they slid on the stairs on a trail of Vaseline. They slipped through the lobby, shot out the front door, caught air on the Building’s front steps, and landed on Bran’s wife and Drova (both were wearing ballerina outfits).

Marcus and Mezran were on top of the bus, each brandishing a fish at each other like sword fighters.

Fritz and Mab were ballroom dancing on the back deck.

There was a pile of leaves in the middle of the lawn. Various not-mentioned-above Residents were tucked into it, and Cultists danced a circle around them while singing. Yuna was dancing with the group. Naomi cheered from her perch in a tree.

A civet, a fennec and a badger trotted past the group and vanished through a broken basement window.

An airplane flew overhead, papers tumbling from the back and landing only on the Building property. They were invitations to Thriller and Charumati's for Thanksgiving feast (Gliese, naturally!)

The front lawn was littered with ice, empty bottles, drunk people, and a troupe of naked dwarves. Bones appeared to be sitting on a lawn chair, except there's nothing underneath him, he was just floating. His boots were fairly muddy, he had a stethoscope around his neck, and he was holding a large wheel of cheese that had a ribbon on it, as if it's some sort of prize. He also was wearing a sombrero over his helmet. Minerva was floating beside him only upside down and with legs tucked into a lotus position. Her red locks were plaited into a tight braid. She had a Cat in the Hat hat which was currently resting on her ass. A diving bell with a pair of clown shoes leaning on it rested in the background.

“Right, that’s fixed it,” Minerva spoke through gritted teeth. “Let’s not speak of the violent violet llamas or Philippe Cousteau Jr’s sock drawer anytime soon.” She turned her head and smiled at her companion. “Thanks for your help Bones. Really, it hasn’t been the same without you around.”

Reginald looked confused as he started at the broomhandle then looked at the strex pet. He then said to himself," No matter if i have my gun. Wait..My gun the bloody thing took my gun i will kill it! get back here you blood invertebrate"! He then started to attack the pet with the broom handle thinking to himself," I may look like a bloody idiot doing this but i must to defeat this evil creature".

[Mincaldenteans]

Mezran

Something slimy and wet made it difficult for the Klingon to keep its hold. His ridged face was contorted into an uglier snarl of jagged yellow teeth and his body was tensed, ready to strike.

But for what he wasn't sure and his finely tuned warrior instincts told him to stand down. This man in front of him wasn't his enemy and when he looked at his dominant hand holding the slimy thing, he noticed it to be a fish that his fingers had clasped tightly at the tail. The Klingon lowered his arm, face turning to just confusion about exactly what had happened. Was he not just on his way to a metal smith? How did he end up on top of this strange conveyance with a weighty dead aquatic creature?

And it was frigid. Klingons didn't care for the cold, not that it stopped them at anything but it was the warmth where they truly at their best. And it was night. A dim streetlight above the men were the only illumination offered and the Klingon squinted his eyes as he studied the street.

"ram? qaSpu' nuq?" To which his translator clarified: Night? What happened?

The question directed at Marcus, the Klingon let go of the slimy (and repulsively smelling) Yellowtail. The dead creature landing on the roof of the bus with a slick plop and the Klingon made an even uglier face at the smell that stayed in his nostrils. "Humans and their food," he grumbled. His head was spinning; something that should have registered to him earlier when he was about to strike Marcus but only just as his first step made him realize his equilibrium to be less than stable.

"Have we been sharing bloodwine?" His second question almost immediately after the first. There was a faint smile, but hardly amused, "It's never had this effect before but would explain why we are on this..." his head shifted left and right, "thing."

---

Mab

The Waltz. A symphony of music and lights, a whirl of soothing sounds and graceful steps that was so simple in its form and yet so complicated in its own act. How the Queen of Air & Darkness landed at the back deck with Fritz to hold on to while the gentlemen led their dance was a mystery to her. Or simply didn't know how to ask what happened as her being had simply accepted that they were here: the details were irrelevant. Whatever had entangled the duo into this dance had filled the Queen with a rare moment of joy she hadn't enjoyed in countless eons.

Sure, playing court politics and meting out punishments upon her subjects that infuriated her had some enjoyment, but it wasn't the same.

The Queen smiled, a different smile that she hadn't entertained an even longer time since...

Mab lowered her hand from where it was at the back of Fritz's neck. Their dance had stopped, and so too did the shifting. The environment took shape and form and came together in reality that her inner being should have noticed immediately but was only just catching up to. The air was chill, dancing on her skin like silk and Fritz being as close as he was in his warm embrace had kept her smile that Mab had wanted to hide away, "Lovely dance, Fritz." The music still played, soft in the background. She didn't need to look out to the night or give its full acknowledgment, she felt it, like so many of her kind when the days danced and chased one another.

Her hand rested upon her chest while the Fae caught her breath. Something had taken the wind out of her and she was feeling a bit... dizzy. That was strange! The last time she had that feeling was the aftereffects of a poison drink one of the nobles had shared with her. Needless to say, it had not ended well for that particular Fae. Indeed that poor fellow was still in her dungeons, exacting his penance at her whim. But this was, again, different as she did not feel anything amiss or gone awry with her own being. Just dizzy.

"I don't remember being in a dance before this night, but I suppose it's one of the few surprises of this place, hmm?" She asked pleasantly, oblivious in her own delight.

---

Dan

Cold, that was all the young Fae could feel. The leaves offered little protection and his own being did not take kindly to the biting sensation of the cold, nor the night. Why was he out here on the lawn to a bunch of singing merry go rounds. Wasn't that at the Oktoberfest? Speaking of...

"Hunter?" He called out, getting a groan akin to someone having drank too much (the Fae did notice many of those in festival). He himself felt the world spin, right off its own axis, or perhaps it was him that was spinning.

"Why am I drunk?" Hunter had questioned, sitting up with no concern to the leaves that covered him. But singing, by the Nevidus, Hunter covered his ears as it stung. There was music and then there was this. "Oh," he looked around, the darkness of the night did little to his vision but the cold however was becoming a growing issue.

"Oktoberfest?" Dan supplied, sitting up and unlike Hunter enjoying the singing if only the cultists weren't so... loud and boisterous. Hardly dance music, or maybe just not the time for it. The Fae couldn't decide.

"We got so drunk there's a bunch of loons dancing in front of us?"

"Maybe you did and think of it as an alarm I guess," Dan said with a smirk and brushed the leaves off of him. Hunter did the same and the Fae got to his feet and shivered against the cold night; his body seemed off, as though he really was tipsy but he ignored it. Hunter on the other hand half stumbled, half caught himself from tripping over his own feet. "Ugh, let's get out of here," Dan suggested and it wasn't as though the cultists stopped them; the duo made a beeline to the apartment building quickly before their fingers and toes could freeze itself off their limbs.

[The Carlisle]

Kale wobble-spunned around and looked at Jorgen. Her face had a look of utter fear. In her drunken reality, Jorgen was a giant mecha-human a horrifying corruption of man and machine from the desert world. "AHHHH!!!" she she screamed. She raised her hand and let the magic flow. Except, unlike the vine, it worked.

Out of her hair grew a massive venus fly trap like plant, with a giant mouth filled with rows upon rows of sharp teeth. The maw-plant chomped down on Jorgen, tearing through him like tissue paper.

In the real world, a weak looking venus fly trap like plant grew. It was small and had no teeth. It opened it's mouth and bit weakly onto Jorgen's leg. In fact, it was wasn't a bite as it was more plopping its open mouth onto Jorgen's leg. The plant slobbered onto Jorgen's leg as it weakly tried to chew it without teeth.

[Bone Fort]

Tsu smiled back suggestivly at Kei and turned her attention to Katya. "I do believe we have not met.." she said with a little hiccup after,being a bit tipsy. "You can call me Tamashi!. She kept her fingers in a gun shape and shot at the paper helicopters then laughed loudly when the wind knocked one off. "I nailed one!". She flopped back into the grass smiling brightly.

"Oi! Stall the ball! Smee ya f*ckin' steamboat!"

Storming up towards Tsu was- OH DEAR GOD... Tim Finnegan, the Irish Wrestling chicken.

"Yea must be mad ouva to be talkin' sh*te about me, ya fecking sky pilot! Or a flamin' piss artist! Either way, I'm a give ye a clatter in the jaw and a mug of warm badger's milk fer bein' a clatty chancer!"

[Torsiedelle]

"Oh, yoohoo, snake boy! Erm, well, girl!"

The strange girl in the Chinese dress from the last incident had moved over, squatting near him. Her golden Faravahar pendant dangled above his face carelessly. "I remember you. That green haired girl introduced us, I think? Anyway, what the hell is happening? I was just having tea, when all hell broke loose, and I thought I'd have some fun.

[Fvaarniimar]

Some hours earlier... or centuries earlier... in another reality
The Corps member stood in a stairwell near the latrine. Nocking an arrow, she prayed to the spirits. If you see this bastard of HIS as innocent and believe that she deserves your aid, prevent this from happening. Her heart may have grown bitter upon realizing that Yyvno was to blame for her father's ingnoble death and still bitterer when she had learned that he had seduced Fvaavimkune into birthing his child, but one did not thwart the spirits . Protection had been requested for a Naaliasz, not a child just waiting to become another monster, but still she needed to show them that she would honor their choice. After all, there were many 625s of ways to thwart her attempt.

The problem was that there enough 625s of people who wanted the twelve-year-old dead so that even the collective power of the consciousness-impressions and concept-minds colloquially known as spirits couldn't even begin to individually thwart every attempt which would be made.

No, Rmwtyliin would never be safe in Fvaarniimar. Remembered with nostalgia after removal from the picture, yes - but only once that had occurred. They had, however, had their protection specifically requested for this girl, and had benefited from said request in the typical manner. Were they to let her pay for her father's actions, they would fail in their duty.

There was one thing which could be done. It was irreversible - the bastard Naaliasz would never be able to return to Fvaarniimar, or even her world, so far as they knew. But it would spare her. She would be able to start again.

First, they focused on a small girl, appearing say half Rmwtyliin's age, frolicking happily on a seashore; minds-to-mind, they explained; she agreed to help, pooling power additively. Together, the consciousnesses focused on Rmwtyliin, clad in ceremonial dress, walking innocently towards her doom; on a small, valuable diamond ring that was one of a very few things that her father legally owned; on a place where all realities met, known to some as the tenth dimension; and on a time and Building where a foreigner not only from another time but also another reality would fit right in.

The Corps member waited for nearly a twenty-fifth of a day, arrow nocked to bow, only to be greeted with the news that the Naaliasz was missing when she eventually was relieved at her post.

In the same reality, ten centuries later, the personification of a nation which to Fvaarniimarn represented everything they wanted nothing to do with stood in a small clearing.
She'd miss a lot about the place.
around a week earlier
Kwa'a reread the flier. The Building. Various amenities, seeming to stand at a nexus between universes, excellent security, and what sounded like people who could accept her.

It was borderline insane of her to consider it. While possible for a spirit to send a person to a different reality, no spirit - as far as the woman knew; they'd stopped talking centuries ago - had done so to themself.

Then again, none of those spirits had had bodies to send.

If she died - what of it? There honestly was little point in her remaining here, or alive. What had she left to lose? (A chance... some part of her whispered.)

Of course, that might merely wound her severely enough to trigger reformation in a fairly public area of Borksmiclen. In all honesty, that was most probable.

She'd decide later.

---

She looked at the cave; visited very rarely because of the risk of discovery, it held some of Borksmiclen's most precious treasures, kept safe through the long centuries by her powers. There was her answer. Subconsciously, at least, she wanted this. She was willing to transfer her most prized possessions to other care to keep them safe in an interim which could be centuries. What more confirmation did she need? She would do this.

Entering the cave, and opening a stone trapdoor - concealed by a blanket of moss which had millennia past taken root in the clay which sealed it, clay which she carefully moved aside - Kwa'a stepped downwards into a lower chamber. It was dry in here, and cold enough for goosebumps to form on her skin. The woman began sorting documents into piles, copying a page here and there so as to omit a portion. One pile, the largest, would go to the Rihrihree, an underground group which protected knowledge; fortunately, each time after the first few that she'd assumed a new identity she'd made an effort to switch handwriting style. The styles were still similar - enough even so that one might conclude the writers to be related - but they were neither identical nor similar enough so that one not aware of Kwa'a's lifespan could conclude more than a few of the identities authoring the documentation to be one and the same.
One pile, smaller, would stay in this cave. It was too private for the Rihrihree, but not a danger if discovered and not of great sentimental value.
The smallest pile went into a sack, of strong cloth. This she'd take along.

---

The man looked at her. "Do you realize what these are? Even one of these documents is priceless. Please, allow me..."

Kwa'a smiled, a sad, small smile. "You'll protect them, will you not? I've cared for them long enough, and Bomic knowledge belongs in Borksmiclen. That being said..." For an instant, she looked extremely vulnerable, and her age showed just the slightest bit. "If someone ever shows up here and gives her name as Thehblud Mehtkwehn, please provide her with shelter and make no attempt to identify her, including removal of any disguise. I promise, she won't betray you." Perhaps, if this failed...

A man ran down tunnels, feather-braided hair disheveled. "You'll never believe what that woman just gave us. We need to authenticate these, stat!"

---

Returning to the cave, Kwa'a retrieved a few items, things which she'd left for last: first, a square of thick wool, a little over her height on the diagonal. This was the child's-warmer, a symbol of family and belonging; she'd received it some weeks following her adoption as a Bhewehg. It was too risky to wear openly in Borksmiclen; she folded the top edge and tucked it underneath her coat. She'd received some other such blankets, over the years; these went in the sack of items which she was taking.
Could she really do this? She'd never even left Borksmiclen, and now she was going to try to go to an alternate reality. She'd likely be stuck there for awhile, unless something quite uncomfortable occurred. For half a second she again entertained the thought of just staying with the Rihrihree... But of course that wasn't an option. One after all could not remain disguised at all times, and while it might be safe for one to know the truth about her, the universes, and similar things, it was not and never would to her knowledge be safe for an entire group to know. Even if she could pass her appearance off as coincidental, there were things which couldn't be passed off as easily. It was a pity; the Rihrihree, to her, represented almost everything positive about Borksmiclen.

Kwa'a focused on where she wanted to go, and where she wanted her counterpart to go; then, she started funneling in power. She'd expected this to all but take her down to normal for centuries; it turned out to take less than three years' worth of power. This resulted in her first genuine smile in a long time, as that seemed to strongly indicate that she'd be far safer where she was going. It was sad that a concept-spirit had to leave what she represented, but... Assuming that this worked - and that was starting to seem like a logical assumption - she could start again. More than that, even: for the first time since being the prepubescent girl who'd made this same forest her home, she would be able to make a life for herself that wasn't based on lies, to use her own identity, whatever that had become since those carefree days...
She decided right then that she would not use an alias in Bielefield.

Taking a deep breath, she twisted things. The mass of two universes decreased by that of one person; the atmospheres of two very much alternate Earths contracted the slightest bit.

Four people spun through time and space en route to their destinations, myriad realities flashing past as three were pushed and one pulled herself through the dimensions. The routes were almost at right angles to each other, if one were to simplify each dimension, representing it as a point on a plane, with higher-numbered dimensions further up. Of course, that must be a drastic oversimplification, but it should be noted that none of the parties concerned could have understood a more accurate representation. Two landed by an apartment building in a third dimension, which like them was almost entirely ordinary except for its counterparts.

Of the other two, one arrived some hours - she would have called the length of time about 1/5 of a day - before the other, just in time to find herself yanked off by a Zalgofest.

The other arrived around 3 a.m., in a bus and draped over a seat. She wriggled backwards, very awkwardly ending up mere inches from most of Rmwtyliin and bumping said person's knee; said person muttered "Ouch!" Duncan translated, and Kwa'a twisted around. "Sor -" That was as far as she got. Of course she'd known that some Fvaa had survived. She'd even known about Fvaarniimar. But - one of the Fvaa? Here?

She didn't know how to react. Rmwtyliin didn't realize, at that point, the woman's identity.

---

Drova and Rylli would find themselves in brief pain, due to Nick's claws. He soon withdrew them.
<So sorry are you okay what the **** was that eeek yikes and by the way I'm Nick oh you're weird crocodile lady!> The jumble of emotions they'd receive cannot be described.

[Morlodania]

Kale wobble-spunned around and looked at Jorgen. Her face had a look of utter fear. In her drunken reality, Jorgen was a giant mecha-human a horrifying corruption of man and machine from the desert world. "AHHHH!!!" she she screamed. She raised her hand and let the magic flow. Except, unlike the vine, it worked.

Out of her hair grew a massive venus fly trap like plant, with a giant mouth filled with rows upon rows of sharp teeth. The maw-plant chomped down on Jorgen, tearing through him like tissue paper.

In the real world, a weak looking venus fly trap like plant grew. It was small and had no teeth. It opened it's mouth and bit weakly onto Jorgen's leg. In fact, it was wasn't a bite as it was more plopping its open mouth onto Jorgen's leg. The plant slobbered onto Jorgen's leg as it weakly tried to chew it without teeth.

Jorgen stopped immediately and turned back to look at Kale, a quizzing expression upon his face. He shifted slightly as she used her magic, and stared down at the small plant creation with a slight chuckle, gently pushing it off of the metal of his lower legs with ease, yet holding his ground. "You're drunk out of your mind, aren't you, Kale?" The steampunk-cyborg shakes his head a little and smiles. "It's cute to see a lightweight try and drink, really... Especially since I used to get like that."

[The BranRiech]

"Mon?" Asked a somewhat hazy voice, belonging to a somewhat drunk Bran.

The conscript, still holding onto the wheel of the bus, walked over and spotted the group of people, one of whom he recognized as Mon, and the other one was Brit, right? He couldn't decide of course, and ran over happily, arms outstretched as he tried making sense of the situation in his head. In his slightly warped state of thought, he had made a fatal error in trajectory, and ended up hugging Varona from behind.

--

"W-what?" Toscha asked, still blushing, and still holding her arms across her chest protectively as the girl was visibly shivering. "I-I need to get inside, it's getting too cold out here, and I don't know why I'm drunk either, or wait, I feel a little tipsy at least." She stopped for a second to make sure of herself, before slithering over to Jasmine.

[Torsiedelle]

"And you're not used to being tipsy? Come ooon!", Jasmine poked at the strange snake-girl/boy. "But, um, I can see were being cold would be quite the predicament, so why don't we just scoot on inside? I'm no fan of the cold either, at least not at this temperature!"

Jasmine locked her right around Toscha's left and walked along. "Now let's get ya dressed like a proper lady, and see you off, unless you'd have a nice cup of tea beforehand? I've brewed a nice cup for myself, and warm tea always brightens one's spirit!"

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

Tsu smiled back suggestivly at Kei and turned her attention to Katya. "I do believe we have not met.." she said with a little hiccup after,being a bit tipsy. "You can call me Tamashi!. She kept her fingers in a gun shape and shot at the paper helicopters then laughed loudly when the wind knocked one off. "I nailed one!". She flopped back into the grass smiling brightly.

"Oi! Stall the ball! Smee ya f*ckin' steamboat!"

Storming up towards Tsu was- OH DEAR GOD... Tim Finnegan, the Irish Wrestling chicken.

"Yea must be mad ouva to be talkin' sh*te about me, ya fecking sky pilot! Or a flamin' piss artist! Either way, I'm a give ye a clatter in the jaw and a mug of warm badger's milk fer bein' a clatty chancer!"

Tsu narrowed her eyes at what was standing before her,it was her worst enemy..the Irish Wrestling chicken. "Why...isn't it the chicken nugget...." She said spitting in his direction. "I will have my revenge for all those times you have embarrassed me!". She took a fighting stance and prepared to battle her nemesis, to bad her brain was to small to warn her this was a dumber idea then orcs fighting Baneblades with rock.

[Bone Fort]

Tsu narrowed her eyes at what was standing before her,it was her worst enemy..the Irish Wrestling chicken. "Why...isn't it the chicken nugget...." She said spitting in his direction. "I will have my revenge for all those times you have embarrassed me!". She took a fighting stance and prepared to battle her nemesis, to bad her brain was to small to warn her this was a dumber idea then orcs fighting Baneblades with rock.

"Jaysus, yer real feckin' cla, ain't cha? I kicked yer ass without breakin' a sweat, whilst also kickin' the asses o' some of yer friends at the same time, and yea still want ta take a go at me? I was jus' talkin' sh*te earlier when I called ya mad ouva, but yea really must be. Or a flamin' piss artist. Chancer don't even cover the half o' it. Yer a real neddy, yea are."

The Irish Wrestling Chicken raised his wings in front of him, fi-... fists(?)... held in a boxing stance.

"Now yea best stop actin' the maggot, fore I give ya a whole rake o' pain. Yea already have a boat like a bag full o' dead rats, yea really want me ta make it look even worse? 'Cuse I can."

[The Carlisle]

Little did Jorgen know that Kale was no lightweight. For one, she beat Wolfgang von Sturmgeist in a beer drinking contest and then went on to beat Brian McGuinness in a whiskey drinking match. And she was still standing! If a bit wobbly.

Seeing her attack was ineffective, Kale paled whiter than the whitest iris. She crawl to her weak plant and cradled it in her arms. "I'm doom..." she said. She tucked her plant in, got into the fetal position, fell to the ground on her side, and started rolling in circles. "Doomed *hic* doomed *hic* doomed *hic*," she said repeatedly.

[Morlodania]

Little did Jorgen know that Kale was no lightweight. For one, she beat Wolfgang von Sturmgeist in a beer drinking contest and then went on to beat Brian McGuinness in a whiskey drinking match. And she was still standing! If a bit wobbly.

Seeing her attack was ineffective, Kale paled whiter than the whitest iris. She crawl to her weak plant and cradled it in her arms. "I'm doom..." she said. She tucked her plant in, got into the fetal position, fell to the ground on her side, and started rolling in circles. "Doomed *hic* doomed *hic* doomed *hic*," she said repeatedly.

Jorgen stared at her slightly in confusion, slightly in disbelief. "I see... I doubt you're that doomed, though, Kale..." He crouches down beside her, keeping an arm's length as he suspected he was the reason for her little fit she was having. "Do be calm, however... I'm not going to hurt you, we're friends, aren't we?" He smiles to her softly, taking his hat off of his head and setting it next to himself. "Hell, I'm not even armed right now... Lost my gun somewhere."

[Monfrox]

"Hmm?" Varona looked down to see arms cross over her waist. And then, unlucky for Bran, her training kicked in. She grabbed his arm around him and yanked him forward before putting it behind his back. Mon looked over a bit surprised. "Oh...hi Bran. How's my favorite conscript?" She asked. Varona raised an eyebrow, but released Bran after Mon greeted him. She knew it was unwise to harm friends of friends.

"I'm sorry, but you should be careful about who you sneak up on like that." The sniper said to him.

[Fvaarniimar]

Meanwhile, Kwa'a had hauled herself back over the bus seat. Her skirt - a bright scarlet, in a material resembling fleece - had fallen in soft folds over her legs as she'd done so.

The first time, the skirt, and Kwa'a with it, had appeared and then slid over the seat almost too quickly for Rmwtyliin to notice. This time, though, Rmwtyliin was terrified, and her features showed no trace of an effort to hide this.

She wears so much blood-color...she was staring at me...she was staring at me...she almost seemed to recognize me...this isn't my universe...Oh NO, what if she is the Bomic? She wears blood-color...it FITS, it all fits...she must have orchestrated this somehow to get to me...she must be holding me...ransom...if I'm untouched as this...oh no, my family, and I rather wish they'd pay but if they do a Bomic will just ask more until Fvaarniimar...cannot protect even one... She glanced at the girl next to her, looking merry despite their terrifying circumstances. She's being held too... For she refused to consider, already, that Giovenith was on the other side of the plot. Does she know?

Tvthmlaaljvkyf's daughter nudged Pearlei's. Once she seemed to have gotten her attention, the Naaliiasz whispered, "Is the Bomic holding you for ransom as well? How can you appear so calm?"

---

Kwa'a hadn't walked that far, and had heard. She sped up. Would always she be held accountable for her country's actions? But she was the country. Was she? Sure, she often held Bomic opinions - much to her distress, at times, when these and her own proved to be in conflict. Perhaps that was her answer. When all was said and done, she did have a mind of her own, even if it was too-easily swayed by public opinion.

Rendering her her own person. She might be the Bomic personification, but that didn't mean there was no difference. She wasn't - or at least wasn't just - Borksmiclen, and she certainly wasn't to blame for the actions of its government.

She sighed. After thousands of iterations of this, she thought, One would expect me to have convinced myself, or at the very least convinced myself to stop rehashing the point.

Alright, work from the axiom, if it cannot be proven. The axiom was that she was not to blame. Still...if she'd shared part of her identity...You were biologically SIX at the time, she reminded herself, and little more mature mentally. Besides... my counterpart. She was six, mentally too. The congruence. Sharing the knowledge... it could not have been safe. But... She cut herself off before she tried to rehash everything which even theoretically could have changed things. You'll never know. The axiom, Kwa'a, is that it was not your fault. But... No buts, self. Mama Bhewehg would say the same. Alright. If it isn't my fault, then the girl lacks reason to fear me. She'll probably come around. If... No. She will.

That settled until the next time she would start beating herself up about it, the woman walked over to the group imbibing on the lawn. "Mind you doofi join you?" Not really waiting for an answer, she plopped down, took a cup, and took a swig. She needed some new expletives, because that was some of the strongest beer she'd had. She hasn't tasted its quality since her army days, and even then she hadn't imbibed a great deal.

It was quite good, and was beginning to make her various troubles seem unimportant. Besides, her powers were more-or-less offline for a few years, so that wasn't a concern. Compared to this warmish feeling, what was constant coughing? She downed the cup, although half of it was promptly coughed out.

---

Nick, realizing that he wasn't getting an answer and hyped up on everything, abandoned Rylli and Drova to start running. He ran to the Building and back; then, when that proved to not be sufficiently exciting, he attempted to run up its side.

After having failed that, he spotted the Irish Wrestling Chicken. Bird! Prey! Sneaking up behind it, the cat wiggled his butt and POUNCED, landing on its lower back, claws digging in.

[Torsiedelle]

Katya, upon the arrival of the chicken, had to make sure that she wasn't hallucinating the scene, and rubbed her eyes. "What's this?", She asked to nobody in particular, bewildered. "You have a quarrel with a chicken? That can talk?", She giggled. "I've witnessed my fair share of bizarre things, and this is certainly bizarre! What do you think, Kei?', She asked the Goddess, looking back.

Katya got to her feet and brushed the dirt from off of her legs. The cold breeze bit at them, but she was still warm and buzzed enough to not immediately run for the building.

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

Tsu narrowed her eyes at what was standing before her,it was her worst enemy..the Irish Wrestling chicken. "Why...isn't it the chicken nugget...." She said spitting in his direction. "I will have my revenge for all those times you have embarrassed me!". She took a fighting stance and prepared to battle her nemesis, to bad her brain was to small to warn her this was a dumber idea then orcs fighting Baneblades with rock.

"Jaysus, yer real feckin' cla, ain't cha? I kicked yer ass without breakin' a sweat, whilst also kickin' the asses o' some of yer friends at the same time, and yea still want ta take a go at me? I was jus' talkin' sh*te earlier when I called ya mad ouva, but yea really must be. Or a flamin' piss artist. Chancer don't even cover the half o' it. Yer a real neddy, yea are."

The Irish Wrestling Chicken raised his wings in front of him, fi-... fists(?)... held in a boxing stance.

"Now yea best stop actin' the maggot, fore I give ya a whole rake o' pain. Yea already have a boat like a bag full o' dead rats, yea really want me ta make it look even worse? 'Cuse I can."

Tsu was about to strike till she noticed a cat,She stopped and growled."Hey! A very IMPORTANT battle is about to go on! Shoo ya furball!" She said sending wings to remove the cat away from the chicken."This is my time to get some of my.pride back!" She growled in a deep voice, no one was gonna stop her from kicking chicken butt, a cat sure wasn't. She thought she was gonna be famous for this!

[Torsiedelle]

Despite eating a large dinner earlier, Jasmine couldn't quell the rumbling in her stomach as she led Toscha towards the warmth of the building. She really just grabbed food from wherever she could, and the weird apartment usually provided. She really didn't have much money, and that's when she found a golden opportunity.

"Hmm..."

She began to break off, leaving Toscha close enough to be able to return inside the building, with the warm air letting out and providing a measure of relief from the cold. She clasped her necklace and winked. "I see money. Be right back, you won't regret it!"

And that was how, as Reginald was fighting the StrexPet, a strange girl in a strange Eastern dress popped in one of the bus windows beside him, hands clasped as if begging, and a too-friendly smile on her face. "Hello, sir!", She said in a faked accent. "I'm just a lonely new immigrant to this place, and I see that you are in need of assistance. Would it seem a fair trade if I were to assist you in exchange for a small sum of money? Coinage, preferably. I like it when it jingles."

"Jaysus, yer real feckin' cla, ain't cha? I kicked yer ass without breakin' a sweat, whilst also kickin' the asses o' some of yer friends at the same time, and yea still want ta take a go at me? I was jus' talkin' sh*te earlier when I called ya mad ouva, but yea really must be. Or a flamin' piss artist. Chancer don't even cover the half o' it. Yer a real neddy, yea are."

The Irish Wrestling Chicken raised his wings in front of him, fi-... fists(?)... held in a boxing stance.

"Now yea best stop actin' the maggot, fore I give ya a whole rake o' pain. Yea already have a boat like a bag full o' dead rats, yea really want me ta make it look even worse? 'Cuse I can."

Tsu was about to strike till she noticed a cat,She stopped and growled."Hey! A very IMPORTANT battle is about to go on! Shoo ya furball!" She said sending wings to remove the cat away from the chicken."This is my time to get some of my.pride back!" She growled in a deep voice, no one was gonna stop her from kicking chicken butt, a cat sure wasn't. She thought she was gonna be famous for this!

"Keep yer damn limbs off of my cat!", Torii yelled from the leaf pile, crawling to her knees. The cold was getting to her, and she was making her way to the apartments. "Nick, Kitty~, I wouldn't go around attacking random chickens, not around here. It's probably mutated, or..."

Torii remembered her first Christmas at the island. "Yea, just get away from it, like, now. That thing's a sonuvabitch."

[Rygondria]

Despite eating a large dinner earlier, Jasmine couldn't quell the rumbling in her stomach as she led Toscha towards the warmth of the building. She really just grabbed food from wherever she could, and the weird apartment usually provided. She really didn't have much money, and that's when she found a golden opportunity.

"Hmm..."

She began to break off, leaving Toscha close enough to be able to return inside the building, with the warm air letting out and providing a measure of relief from the cold. She clasped her necklace and winked. "I see money. Be right back, you won't regret it!"

And that was how, as Reginald was fighting the StrexPet, a strange girl in a strange Eastern dress popped in one of the bus windows beside him, hands clasped as if begging, and a too-friendly smile on her face. "Hello, sir!", She said in a faked accent. "I'm just a lonely new immigrant to this place, and I see that you are in need of assistance. Would it seem a fair trade if I were to assist you in exchange for a small sum of money? Coinage, preferably. I like it when it jingles."

Tsu was about to strike till she noticed a cat,She stopped and growled."Hey! A very IMPORTANT battle is about to go on! Shoo ya furball!" She said sending wings to remove the cat away from the chicken."This is my time to get some of my.pride back!" She growled in a deep voice, no one was gonna stop her from kicking chicken butt, a cat sure wasn't. She thought she was gonna be famous for this!

"Keep yer damn limbs off of my cat!", Torii yelled from the leaf pile, crawling to her knees. The cold was getting to her, and she was making her way to the apartments. "Nick, Kitty~, I wouldn't go around attacking random chickens, not around here. It's probably mutated, or..."

Torii remembered her first Christmas at the island. "Yea, just get away from it, like, now. That thing's a sonuvabitch."

Reginald started at jasmine and thought," Where did she come from". He then thought to himself again". Is she faking her accent. Never mind this aint the bloody time for this". He then responded to jasmine". Yes i could use some bloody help for this little monster ate my weapon many thanks in advance and your payment will come after you beat the creature". He then continued to whack the creature with the broomstick.

[Giovenith]

"What do you mean?" Giovenith asked calmly, filling up her cup from a bottle of carbonated fruit punch she'd found. The godling looked around, having thought she'd seen someone new slip in, but wasn't all that concerned given that Zalgofests tended to attract many visitors from strange places. "We're not in trouble anymore friend, we're here at the Building now, it's just a Zalgofest. Everyone's alright. Except for maybe a zebra."

Given the nature of Zalgofests, the air was thick of magical activity this way and that, so if Rmwtyliin was pointing out some specific disturbance, it was lost in the hubbub on Giovenith's senses.

"Are you still scared?" she asked, looking concerned. "If you want, I can help you find a room here. No more Smiling God here, I think."

--

Nick had wiggled away and scampered off to do his own thing, which Willow supposed was to be expected of a cat, even a sentient one. He briefly raised an eye after him then looked back down at Rylli and Drova, who had neglected to remove themselves from the ground even after being smashed into. He grimaced. Were they simply drunk?

"You can't stay here, you know," the pegasus-pony urged the humanoids, nudging them with a hoof. He briefly thought of hovering above them, but found he was still too tipsy to stay long in the air and decided against it. "Come on, nopony wants a picture of them as a tutu-filly in the mud."

[Torsiedelle]

"Payment afterwards? No problem!", Jasmine replied. "I'll help you out now."

No longer leaning in the window, she grabbed the top of the window hatch and swung in with great force, kicking the pet with all her might and sending it flying into the other side of the seats. That done, she squatted down near the man, a mischevious grin marking her face, and spoke again, with a slight, more natural accent. "So now, about the money?"

[Fvaarniimar]

Despite eating a large dinner earlier, Jasmine couldn't quell the rumbling in her stomach as she led Toscha towards the warmth of the building. She really just grabbed food from wherever she could, and the weird apartment usually provided. She really didn't have much money, and that's when she found a golden opportunity.

"Hmm..."

She began to break off, leaving Toscha close enough to be able to return inside the building, with the warm air letting out and providing a measure of relief from the cold. She clasped her necklace and winked. "I see money. Be right back, you won't regret it!"

And that was how, as Reginald was fighting the StrexPet, a strange girl in a strange Eastern dress popped in one of the bus windows beside him, hands clasped as if begging, and a too-friendly smile on her face. "Hello, sir!", She said in a faked accent. "I'm just a lonely new immigrant to this place, and I see that you are in need of assistance. Would it seem a fair trade if I were to assist you in exchange for a small sum of money? Coinage, preferably. I like it when it jingles."

Tsu was about to strike till she noticed a cat,She stopped and growled."Hey! A very IMPORTANT battle is about to go on! Shoo ya furball!" She said sending wings to remove the cat away from the chicken."This is my time to get some of my.pride back!" She growled in a deep voice, no one was gonna stop her from kicking chicken butt, a cat sure wasn't. She thought she was gonna be famous for this!

"Keep yer damn limbs off of my cat!", Torii yelled from the leaf pile, crawling to her knees. The cold was getting to her, and she was making her way to the apartments. "Nick, Kitty~, I wouldn't go around attacking random chickens, not around here. It's probably mutated, or..."

Torii remembered her first Christmas at the island. "Yea, just get away from it, like, now. That thing's a sonuvabitch."

Nick, who'd been about a second from attacking the large wriggling strings which were attempting to pry him off of the Irish Wrestling Chicken, promptly dropped off. Torii was a friend, Torii was trusted, Torii knew how much of a freak he was and still cared. Even hyped up, hopped up, and judgement impaired, the cat remembered that. Unfortunately, "dropping off" meant "dropping into the clutches of a giant, pissed-off bird who had finally noticed the puny thing on his back." Said bird hurled him, he raced towards airless space-

And found himself perched on a bush near the Building. Dropping to the ground, he ran to Torii, rearing up to somewhat-carefully paw her lower leg.

<Hi we slid down why did you tell me to get off was I being stupid? What was thst thing I was like a bird or plane! so me and MB (image of said sliding down stairs; blues and greens are saturated to an impossible degree, and the stairs appear to twist) yeah so hey what's that bus who was that how are you? Up? Cuddle? Scared. Less scared.>

It was quite probable that she'd feel a bit overwhelmed, not-improbably to the point of developing a headache; Nick's brain was not working properly, and this combined with the ease of reestablishing the connection would result in her being bombarded by swirly dizziness and soundstastestouchestexturessmrllsmemories and mile-a-minute subconscious processes which though not directly perceived would still be sensed, as something rather alien. Not to mention, of course, that she'd feel the emotions Nick was feeling, and said cat was feeling most of the common ones, all at once.

[Torsiedelle]

The flury of emotions and thoughts hitting Torii all at once shocked the girl, who jolted away and grabbed her temple. It was a dull pain, and she had to take a minute to get her bearings again.

"Sorry...Nick...I...", She gritted her teeth. "Sorry...that just all hit me. No, not stupid, but just...you'd be best to run...before he punches you...I'm going in. It's too cold, and I wanna crash in my bed where it's warm and grab a snack. I've had a long day..."