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

[Tiltjuice]

Both the set of robes and a rabbit who hadn't seemed to be there a second ago turned to regard Rowan - at least, the rabbit definitely did. The set of robes, lacking any clear face or anything that resembled a face, were less obvious; but the point became moot when it turned back to Robert.

Hello! the rabbit signed with his ears, leaving trails of sparkling lights to spell out the words, not unlike those left by skywriters' planes. I am MB, welcome to Bielefeld. Papers rustled as MB flipped through the stack of papers, finding Rowan's rental agreement under the Underworld Times the cultist had left there. Lifting it out along with some brochures, he held them up for Rowan to take, and twitched his nose at her.

Sign first paper and keys to your room, gym, laundry appear. Also here is list of local sights and businesses. Also, it is not now safe to go out at night, especially if with people not obviously human.

Rowan reached out gingerly and took her apartment key. 9f. All the way at the top. Well, at least she would have a nice view of the city. She hastily jotted down a sloppy signature before thanking the rabbit under her breath, grabbing the list off the desk, and heading towards the elevator. She would need to make some acquaintances in the area if she wanted to get her dojo up and running. Perhaps studying a map of the city would supply her with the prime location for her business.

She heard a ding as the elevator doors slid open. As she trundled her suitcase into the box, should couldn't help but feel very small.

The elevator stopped again at the second floor, and another woman in prim uniform pants and a battleship gray shirt stepped in. The long straight Roman sword in its scabbard at her back proved incongruous; perhaps it was the idea of a petite woman wielding a blade more than half her size. More likely, though, it was her carefree expression and unlined face, which lightened further as she caught side of Rowan.

"Hello," she chimed, in a fluid, lilting voice. "I'm Chrysanthe. Are you new here?"

There was a slight bit of tension in that voice, but not much. Hans had mentioned not trusting anyone, but a newcomer to the Building was a different matter entirely.

[Giovenith]

"They're going to run us out of our houses," Giovenith sighed suddenly, looking down at her cake and poking it sadly.

It was a rash, bold, scary thing to come out and say, but the girl really didn't feel like pretending they hadn't any clue what this meant. All that was yet to be seen was the extent. Did they want them just out of the Building? Out of the neighborhood? Out of the country? Giovenith could handle being kicked out of the country, she had plenty of places to go, but it was being cattled around within Bielefeld that was more concerning. For all she knew, they may have meant they were trying to push them into being fish in a barrel ready for the shooting.

Though so many people at once? There was more than 80 people living in this Building, very few mundane. That was an awful lot. Maybe it wasn't as hostile as she said, but it was still bad news.

[Swith Witherward]

Marcus hadn't had much of an opportunity to answer Sandy, nor even a bite of cake or said goodbye to Amanda properly, before Yuna paid a visit. He looked her over, noting her nervous hand gestures and stuttering speech, and he sighed.

"Yuna, in Chaos, everything always seems utmost dire. That's because they make it so. Everyone, please, let's sit and not panic."

He borrowed the knife from Giovenith and slicked a piece of cake for the winged girl, sliding it onto a plate and pushing towards an empty chair at the table. "Right, we've known for some time that they've wanted to relocate us. Well, not just us. All abs... excuse me... Extraordinary Beings. This Building is a nuisance, and Demens will comply with legal orders. But yeah, we'll probably relocate a few blocks down eventually. They've been cleaning up the area near the Lads Flats, and they're calling it Newhaven."

The boy shrugged. "It's supposed to be a place where we can all feel safe, and where the mundanes can't harm us. They aren't allowed anywhere near it, and anti-ab groups will be arrested on the spot and thrown in jail. It's all part of the Ballot Measure. And the eyes of the world will be on us. How we react. How the city handles it. How safe the abhumans really are when asked to do something that seems so simple to those seated in front of the TVs and not experiencing it firsthand. That's what the world will judge us by. Adrastus has been saying it. Itum said it at the rally. Ocho said it on TV."

He fixed Yuna with a steady eye, "But I'm sure the fuck not walking around outside this Building once dark hits, unless it's to go to the Itum Rally at Nikanor's shop. I might go up to the Observatory for a while, though. It depends."

Marcus pursed his lips as he thought about the matter. "Yuna, if you're gonna be a Cultist, you gotta remain calm. Say no more than needs to be said, don't volunteer anything that isn't essential. I think if we had a general bug-out order, it would have come directly from Minerva. She wouldn't leave us hanging without a way good reason. Your message might mean just the healers, for example, and not 'anyone who overheard'. Or it could mean just your immediate circle of friends. But if you tell this to Torii, she's going to grab all her guns and prepare to fight them, and I don't know if that's such a good idea. And she'll mistrust you if nothing happens tonight after midnight."

[Northwest Slobovia]

Sandy softly sighed and shook his head: when asked for specifics, Yuna's emergency evaporated. It was just another general warning of how tenuous their situation was. As he walked back to his seat, Sandy spoke calmly; somebody had to be the adult here, and it was him. "Yes, Marcus has a point. There's no need to panic. Even if Proposition 13 passes, even if the city decides to move at the stroke of midnight, we have time today. We've got six or seven hours of daylight. That's plenty of time to pack; Amanda and I packed up for the trip that brought us here in not much more than that, and we were bringing camping gear as well."

"That's even plenty of time to think about other options: to hide in the city, or to leave for greener pastures. We've got several vehicles at our disposal, which helps a lot: the Observatory's truck, our jeep, and a few other Residents' cars in the garage. A lot of people... and a lot of things, can be moved out very fast if we need to... or want to. We need to slow down and think about what we're going to do."

"I know the game Amanda will suggest to Ocho, because it's the US politics game: one side tries to move fast, and the other side tries to slow them down. Amanda will do her damnest to find any excuse to delay the law's implementation. I suspect Ocho knows the game as well, even if the rules here are a bit different than we're used to. I expect we'll have time."

"And if we've just got today... Marcus, if you do go to the Observatory, I'd like to send some of my alchemetical workroom equipment with you. Maybe Adrastus was able to get started on my wish-list since yesterday, but I doubt he's gotten much. If we're going to have to swing into action quickly, we'll be better off if we have access to what I've got already."

[The BranRiech]

"That's what I'd think, Gio." Yuna nodded, looking down progressively further as the others all seemed to refute her points. She knew it was going to happen, that they weren't really going to take it as seriously as she hoped, but at least the feeling wasn't as crushing as she thought it would be.

Looking down at the empty plate in front of her, the Pyersai sighed, listening to the others talk. Since when did Marcus seem to know absolutely everything? She didn't really know much of his past, or who exactly he was even, but Yuna almost felt un-needed at this point, with Marcus sharing basically all that needed to be said. She was completely willing to stay quiet, but she nearly lost it when Marcus started criticizing her. It's warranted, Yuna, you did kind of freak out. She told herself, looking back up to catch eye contact with the older boy.

"I was going to tell everyone in our little club, but . . ."

She considered it, knowing Torii's firebrand nature.

"I do think it would be best to withhold that from Torii, she definitely wouldn't be happy either way." She nodded. "And guys, Marcus is right." She turned to the other two, finally admitting defeat. "I overreacted, but I'm worried for you guys. You don't mind, right?"

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Fortress of Fortitude

"I do think it would be best to withhold that from Torii, she definitely wouldn't be happy either way." She nodded. "And guys, Marcus is right." She turned to the other two, finally admitting defeat. "I overreacted, but I'm worried for you guys. You don't mind, right?"

Reaching his seat, Sandy motioned for Yuna to sit down. "Mind? No, not at all. Everybody's on pins and needles today. I know you've got orders, but look: Marcus cut you some cake." Sandy finished sliding it over to where Yuna was standing at Amanda's previous seat. "There's plenty to drink. There's wine on the table." He pre-empted any objections to that with a wave: "Don't worry about the drinking age. Today, in my house, I say you're old enough."

The Lobby
After a few minutes of watching new Residents arrive and get checked in, Amanda decided she was ready to play lawyer. She expected a long meeting with Ocho, and then a long night trying to assemble legal motions to get ahead of the city in case 13 passed. The walk to the Succubus was short, and while the day was hot, the bright sun did her good. She was almost chipper by the time she got there.

[The Carlisle]

Kale felt a bit relieved of the weight. Carrying the groceries were wearing on her arms. "Thank you," Kale sad as Droa easily took the bag. He seemed quite strong. Kale thought for a moment. "I'm vegan, so no meat and byproducts," she said, "Hope that doesn't make it too difficult. I'll eat a vegetable wrap if you can make it." The conversation was allowing Kale to cool her jets. The little plant girl was in a noticeably better state than before.

[Austropia]

Rowan reached out gingerly and took her apartment key. 9f. All the way at the top. Well, at least she would have a nice view of the city. She hastily jotted down a sloppy signature before thanking the rabbit under her breath, grabbing the list off the desk, and heading towards the elevator. She would need to make some acquaintances in the area if she wanted to get her dojo up and running. Perhaps studying a map of the city would supply her with the prime location for her business.

She heard a ding as the elevator doors slid open. As she trundled her suitcase into the box, should couldn't help but feel very small.

The elevator stopped again at the second floor, and another woman in prim uniform pants and a battleship gray shirt stepped in. The long straight Roman sword in its scabbard at her back proved incongruous; perhaps it was the idea of a petite woman wielding a blade more than half her size. More likely, though, it was her carefree expression and unlined face, which lightened further as she caught side of Rowan.

"Hello," she chimed, in a fluid, lilting voice. "I'm Chrysanthe. Are you new here?"

There was a slight bit of tension in that voice, but not much. Hans had mentioned not trusting anyone, but a newcomer to the Building was a different matter entirely.

For a moment the corners of Rowan's mouth flickered into a smile before her face promptly turned bright red. "

"Nice to meet you Chrysanthe. My name's Rowan." Her eyes sparkled as the landed on the Roman sword at Chrysanthe's side. "What a beautiful sword! Do you use it often?" The kindred of the sword made Rowan relax a little. "I'm up on floor 9 if you ever want to spar. I just arrived today. I'd appreciate the company if you wanted to stop by sometime." She made room for Chrysanthe in the elevator as the doors slid shut behind her.

[Giovenith]

"It's okay Yuna, it's a scary situation," Giovenith reassured her friend, offering a friendly smile. "Can hardly blame you. Please, sit down and at least have a little cake, to calm your nerves." Giovenith herself was set on enjoying this last treat before tending to matters. She'd have to pack as well.

Inside, she was seething from Marcus' explanation. 'Newhaven,' pretentious load of lying crap. If they gave a damn about protecting any of them, they would have started smacking people for being violent towards EBsa at all in the first place. Creating a selected 'safe place' only sent the message that violence was acceptable elsewhere when it shouldn't have been acceptable anywhere, that they wouldn't have to worry about danger so long as they 'knew their place.'

"This won't be the end, though," she insisted, stabbing her cake. "We need to be careful and maintain an image, but that doesn't mean we roll over either."

[Northwest Slobovia]

"This won't be the end, though," she insisted, stabbing her cake. "We need to be careful and maintain an image, but that doesn't mean we roll over either."

"I don't intend to", Sandy said with more firmness than he expected. "We need to find a place to hide, or several. Even just a safehouse for a day or two would give us a lot of time to plan."

Sandy paused, trying to remember something. "Uh, look... I'm no general, I'm a historian. So I don't know much about leading resistance movements, but I do know a bit about how other people did. There's two main possibilities for hiding: we can scatter, everbody in their own place. That makes it hard for the other side to catch us all, but makes it hard for us to communicate and coordinate. Or, as Yuna said, we try to hide in groups. But since that means we can get rolled up at once, we'd have to hide very well, and ideally find and prepare lots of other places to hide in, in case we think the other side is getting close to us."

Sandy shook his head, looking down at the table. "But I don't know many places to run to in or near the city."

[The BranRiech]

Kale felt a bit relieved of the weight. Carrying the groceries were wearing on her arms. "Thank you," Kale sad as Droa easily took the bag. He seemed quite strong. Kale thought for a moment. "I'm vegan, so no meat and byproducts," she said, "Hope that doesn't make it too difficult. I'll eat a vegetable wrap if you can make it." The conversation was allowing Kale to cool her jets. The little plant girl was in a noticeably better state than before.

"We've got vegetables, so no worry." Drova nodded. "Vegan . . ." He mouthed the word. Usually, to his people at least, not eating meat was a sign of poverty, meaning they weren't able to afford meat. He wondered what they did for a living, but figured that if someone could live off of anything not related to an animal, they were at least an interesting person. "It won't be much, but we've got lettuce, tomatoes, and some others as well."

--

With Yuna being of drinking age for her own race, she nodded curtly, but crossed a hand in front of herself. "I would, but no alcohol for me, as a Priestess." She closed her eyes, looking down as she slipped over, and into her chair right as the cake was pushed in front of her.

"I just got all this information about an hour ago, and I guess I took it all too seriously." She shrugged.

"But they want to force us into a single neighborhood? W-why don't they just let us live here? We don't cause trouble outside of this building really that I know of. Wouldn't it be beneficial for the city to let us live here? Keeps a lot of us in one place." She stopped talking to take a bite of the cake, lamenting that it was the first thing she'd eaten that day.

[Swith Witherward]

Conservator Apartment
The alcohol nipped at Minerva’s sinuses as she chuffed. “No one can afford to take action, given the gravity of the situation and the scale of it. And I honestly don’t think either of them are even aware of public opinion. The fact is, they are marked as abs because they live here. Should they take action, it would be for their own sake. Their species or people are not at risk, ergo there’s nothing to temper their actions. Unless…”

The cultist leader eased back in her seat, fingers playing upon the cup’s smooth surface and her thoughts chased one another. She wasn’t Fritz or one of his ilk. She could grasp several concepts at once, but the complications of each outcome – and the unknown factors behind them – served to only give her a headache. Some things were better when not dwelled on too much.

“If your people need it, we have procured apartments outside of the Market District. They would be given papers showing that they were perfectly mundane. It might make your jobs easier?”

A sigh escaped her as she set the cup down and slowly pushed out of the chair. “It’s a start, anyway. I have a bad feeling we’ll be shuffled off in the next day or three. People are bound to trapped on either side. Let us hope the right people are trapped on the right side.”



Curbside, The Greek Restaurant
The words Septimus murmured in her ear were more intoxicating than his embrace. The kiss in the restaurant held the promise of what could unfold in the hours to come, but his admission of love was symbolic of all the good the universe had in store for them if only they lifted their palms to accept it.

She was smiling as she leaned back in his arms to explore his face. His shiver wasn't lost on her. Neste's fingertips caressed the scars haloing his cybernetic eye and then found his hairline, but her focus shifted from the mechanical device to the bright, organic eye observing her. Neste fleetingly touched his mind in search of an answer to the question that had plagued her, only to find that his emotion mirrored her own. She couldn’t stem the tears that welled and clung to her eyelashes. So this is love, and to be in love? Her species referred to it differently, as rainbows in the heart, because they had been told they were incapable of the human emotion. Their keepers were wrong. Damn them all, and all their kind!

“Septimus, I love you,” Neste confessed. Her lips grazed his, a tender kiss stolen just as the cab arrived. She pressed her cheek against his and breathed in his scent. “No matter what the future has in store, never forget that I love you.”


Neste rested against Septimus as the cab wound through the busy city traffic. The warm weight of his arm around her shoulders was reassuring, as was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. She intertwined her fingers with his, and kept an ear on the cabby's banter as he lamented rising problems with the city.

“... on top of that, did you know they're revoking EB livery licenses now?” their driver grunted. “It's bad enough they have a medallion system. Now they're looking to strip us off it so only mundanes can provide services. Hell, if it wasn't for people like me, there'd be no service to the Market District beyond Main. But now, if we continue to drive, they'll impound our cabs. They've already done the rounds for those what don't look human. Only a matter of time before they get to lycans like me.”

The cabbie eased his taxi to the curb in front of the Building, then peered at Septimus in his rear view mirror, smiling at the man he'd voted for just that morning. “No charge today, Mr. Itum. Given 'em hell when you get into office.”



The Pool
“Do not inquire of the storm once it has already started. It is too late for the raindrops to voice their objection,” was FUBAR’s reply. It cared little for Tora’s flattery or her concerns. She was a meat bag, nothing more. It tolerated Neste if only because the construct recognized its needs, and it was civil to her (and tried to help her on occasion) because she offered help in return. Theirs was a corrupted, symbiotic dance that extended to her exo (a facet of her that it appreciated) and to her companion (because FUBAR believed he could prove useful). It had no use for the teenager standing in front of him nor was it inclined to inquire about her people nor discuss a war that had failed in this dimension.

The weapon was brought to bear in the blink of an eye, so efficient was Drone technology. Air was sucked towards the device, drawing Tora’s hair along with it, and she would have a brief glimpse of the cannon’s barrel as it flared into brilliant, white-hot light right next to her head. The blast was of short duration, vaporizing the pool water and punching a hole through the pool’s floor. The weapon lowered and cool air washed over the patch of Tora’s scalp where the blonde strands had been singed to within a few inches of her’s skin.

‘Big ray gun’ demonstration completed, FUBAR rose and turned to leave, and dearly hoped the meat bag got the message.



Bela Apartment
“I don’t mind, either, Yuna,” Marcus helped himself to another piece of cake.

He allowed the others to speak, retreating to his own thoughts as they sorted out the mess that he had partially caused. His sight rested on Yuna from time to him. He trusted her; he didn’t trust all the cultists. If the orders didn’t come from Minerva, Hans or Klaus, he wouldn’t agree to follow them. That mindset, as stubborn as it was, had been driven into him as a young child when his world seemed filled with nothing but cultists, death, and hardship.

“I didn’t mean to come across as cross,” he finally apologized to the girl. “I just, well? Cultists.”

The word hardly explained his grousing. Marcus shoveled a bite of cake into his mouth, delighting in the taste and texture, before swallowing it and nodding to Sandy. “We can load stuff up now, if you want. I’ve got to swing by there to deliver some of my dad’s old equipment.”

His eyes met Giovenith’s and he frowned as painful images intruded upon his mood. “Hey, why don’t you have Pippa-Michelle tag along with us? She might like to spend a few days at the Observatory, just in case? But for all of us to go into hiding? We're pretty well known. If we all suddenly vanish, the government might start asking questions or, worse, looking for us. I'm guessing we'd risk exposing the elements working to help abs, if we went to ground.”



The Wilting Succubus
Ocho’s nostrils twitched as the familiar scent of Amanda’s perfume wafted across the pub. The thade was on his second cup of tea by time Amanda arrived, and he lazily lifted a muscular arm to draw her eye.

“Over here,” he rumbled, “Near the window.”


Market District
The mood in the Market District had taken on a holiday fever as citizens flocked to not only vote, but to also partake in the numerous festivals that had cropped up. The Brisbys did a roaring trade that day, as did Chaos and Fushigis. The Fish Market had closed, as was usual in the afternoon, but her merchants and the fishermen had lingered to partake in street vendor food. Soon the noise spread east of Main, congesting those streets and feeding the businesses with an influx of patrons. The cabbie that had dropped off Septimus and Neste turned off his light and parked near a Tim Horton's; traffic probably wouldn't ease up for hours.

The campaign HQ had its share of visitors traipsing through. Most had come to hear poll updates, and quite a few had opted to remain just to socialize. This crowd spilled down the street and to the park across the way.

Officers Smith and Jones were parked in front of the Rator's house, and had taken to leaning against their patrol car's hood as they watched the people milling around them. They were only there for public safety reasons, having stopped after casting their votes, and neither was much motivated to cause grief.

[Torsiedelle]

Primordial had a very signature knock. It was a pair of quick loud blows follow by a very sudden trio of rhythmic one and finished with two very distinct end ones. It was defiantly something he had pick up from somewhere but most people would think it was just a catchy rhythm. The true was a much more sinister one. Primordials style of knocking as a deep seated psychological parasite which had been implant in him via an insurance company’s hypnotic advertisement on TV. The ad had been aired about a decade ago when he was younger and more susceptibly as part of one of Gegressive State’s various campaigns. Primordial didn’t know he was subconsciously spreading a company’s jingle every time he asked permission to enter a building but such a parasite was a testament to the Luxan method of advertisement. People were the primary tools of Luxan advertisement. Word of mouth and subconscious triggers were better than banners and sponsorships.

That was partially why Primordial was standing in front of Jasmines door with a clipboard and a bottle of wine.

"Just a minute.", Was the answer from the other end of the door. A few seconds later, the apartment opened up, allowing cool, incense-scented air to poor into the hallway. The tiny woman with red hair stared at the Sorcerer for a moment, taking in his appearance, and smiled. Hanging from her neck, her Faravahar pendant bounced. "Hello, Stranger. How may I help you?", She asked; she gave off an air of friendliness.

......

The only way she could describe the Drone's weapon, and the way it showed her, was as "awesome."

She was certainly glad that it didn't actually fry her entire head; still, having a few singed made the others stand on head, and got her excited. She kept staring at the thing as it left; she had an adrenaline rush; FUBAR was really cool...

Well, at least she had met the thing properly. She waved off it's further threats and decided that it was time to try and meet the Raptors. She left the pool quietly and skipped past the lobby, over to her room once again, where she grabbed her TF gun, before just running back down. She still had a smile on her face as she skipped outside and onto the sidewalk. She waved to the friendly officers, not really feeling like it was needed to question why they were near the Von Eldritch house...speaking of which, she stepped up to the door of the strange house, and knocked. "Hello? Um, Boss?", she called. She was still a little nervous to come knocking on their door.

[Tiltjuice]

Conservator Apartment
The alcohol nipped at Minerva’s sinuses as she chuffed. “No one can afford to take action, given the gravity of the situation and the scale of it. And I honestly don’t think either of them are even aware of public opinion. The fact is, they are marked as abs because they live here. Should they take action, it would be for their own sake. Their species or people are not at risk, ergo there’s nothing to temper their actions. Unless…”

The cultist leader eased back in her seat, fingers playing upon the cup’s smooth surface and her thoughts chased one another. She wasn’t Fritz or one of his ilk. She could grasp several concepts at once, but the complications of each outcome – and the unknown factors behind them – served to only give her a headache. Some things were better when not dwelled on too much.

“If your people need it, we have procured apartments outside of the Market District. They would be given papers showing that they were perfectly mundane. It might make your jobs easier?”

A sigh escaped her as she set the cup down and slowly pushed out of the chair. “It’s a start, anyway. I have a bad feeling we’ll be shuffled off in the next day or three. People are bound to trapped on either side. Let us hope the right people are trapped on the right side.”

"So there is a tipping point, but we don't know what it is or who might precipitate it and we can only try to control our own side. Chrys would be champing at the bit to simplify things; but for now, for waiting and watching, I'm your woman...and I'd be happy to take you up on that offer, as well."

"Thanks for coming, as well, Captain," Luce added, sensing the meeting was coming to a close. "I'll begin packing things up here - the dust bunny, Mezran's House symbol, and the rest of the irreplaceables. Shall I show you out?"

For a moment the corners of Rowan's mouth flickered into a smile before her face promptly turned bright red. "

"Nice to meet you Chrysanthe. My name's Rowan." Her eyes sparkled as the landed on the Roman sword at Chrysanthe's side. "What a beautiful sword! Do you use it often?" The kindred of the sword made Rowan relax a little. "I'm up on floor 9 if you ever want to spar. I just arrived today. I'd appreciate the company if you wanted to stop by sometime." She made room for Chrysanthe in the elevator as the doors slid shut behind her.

"More often than I'd like - and please call me Chrys." Her smile dimpled her cheeks as she tried to set Rowan at ease, seeing the flushing on Rowan's face. "I use it less often than I did in times past, though. It's an original weapon. And thanks for the invitation as well; I was just on my way to the roof to take in the sights. Things may be different very soon, you see."

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

Neil answered the apartment/house door, wearing his lab coat and a large semi-spherical helmet with assorted wires and electronics soldered on. "Oh Torri, just in time to test something. Lots to do this evening, even got to fix our predictive models, for some reason all the forecasts are flatlining," he greeted as he let the intern in. Their predictive models were the primary source of intel for the Raptors, devised to make a pretty penny on the stock market with a little help from time travel.

[Torsiedelle]

"Predictive models?", Torii asked. "Forecasts? Oh, are they like Doppler weather things? Also, what needs testing?", She asked again, stepping in. "I brought the transformation device that Bran developed. I wanted to ask about adapting them for use by the people who heal at the observatory, and maybe for use as combat tools as well."

She blushed. "But if you need help with something, then I'd be happy to help with that first!"

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"Hmmm... come to the lab and we can see what we can do. As Gretta said a generic healthy template should bee all that is required to heal with it, at least for as long as the effect lasts. Combat, use a template that is harmless or one that removes key organs. Quite hard to fight back if all your organs are missing." He repeated as he added a new detail while he ushered her inside. "Ur predictive models rely on future information, but getting that information changes the future, so we send back a fair bit of data and use algorithms to sort out what is least likely to change from the weather to stocks to sporting outcomes. Computers mostly handle that, but they seem to have all crashed." He added as he took off the silly helmet.

[Zoblus]

After laying in bed for a bit, Sal decided it was time to meet a few of the people who lived here in The Building. Can't stay locked in my apartment for the entire time, he thought, slipping out of his worn out clothes. He quickly put on a clean outfit consisting of a white field shirt, a small sun hat, and a decent looking pair of pants. He went to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror before going out: he wanted to look decent, first impressions were always important to him. Giving himself a quick look around, Sal decided that he looked good enough to go out of the apartment and look around in the lobby first, maybe go to the Market District if there was nobody in the lobby. Better bring my wallet, don't know if it'll come in handy, Sal thought.

Exiting the apartment and locking the door, Sal went straight to the elevator, entered it, and pushed the "L" button. A nice little song played as the elevator descended, chiming rhythmically in a cheery tone that was extremely soothing to the ears. As the elevator dinged, opening up to the lobby, Sal couldn't help but wonder if he'd find someone nice to get with. He hadn't been in any sort of relationship yet, so he yearned for a chance to be someone's boyfriend. As he entered the lobby, he began walking around, looking at things, hopping either that someone interesting would pass by and he could start up conversation, or that they would come over, noticing him, and be the one's to start trying conversation. He really hoped for the second, he had always been really shy and didn't really know how to start up a decent convo with anyone he didn't already know. He waited patiently by the exit of the Building, looking through his book he brought with him.

[Germanic Templars]

Katya laughed. Edge had really not seen green in some time, had she? It was understandable. Katya was surprised to see her own homeland during her last visit. Spending time away from a place could really get to someone.

"Oh, you don't have a map, um, let me see...", She reached for her phone. "I can use a GPS to help us get around. There should also be trams and other public transport."

It was already some time into the day. Better get moving!

"Nah, walking is usually better, you get to see more options, plus you avoid getting caught up in any underground crowd. Trust me, I know, I lived in New York." Thriller suggested; "Now then, how about we make way to the market and see if there is a good place along the way that sells food."

[Torsiedelle]

"Organ blasters? Radical."

Torii chuckled. "What about a beam that super-heats and destroys the target area, like a Drone weapon would? Or maybe one that turns blood into mercury for a quick kill?", She added. "I don't believe in harmless weapons, and they could be of use by the Covert Ops. As for the healers? If it can be done easily, then they can help that group a lot. My friends are in that group, so I'd go for them first."

Torii wasn't a computer expert, she had to admit. "The computers are out, huh? Have you tried rebooting them? Plugging them out and back in? Maybe a power box or wire is messed up?"

.......

"That sounds fine.", Katya agreed. "I've not been to New York; I was in Anchorage for a few seconds.", She chuckled. "MB and his antics. The Market District then? It's safe, I suppose. Last time I was there, I bought this tie clip.", She tapped the piece of metal on her chest. "And then there's that fortune teller and some other areas. I believe that one of the residents set up a mission there as well.", She nodded.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"There are many ways to kill, but try to find the most interesting. Heat beams are easy, lasers and death rays do the job nicely. Replacing blood is a nice stealthy approach. Though my latest stealth weapon stops time. Either harmlessly keeping people put or focusing the field to stop their heart or brain or lungs while the rest of them dies. Just remember Torii weapons are tools, you need the right one for the right job." He explained as hey walked down the halls.

"Yeah, I tried rebooting, but the readings just keep alternating between zeros and ones and in the case of the weather clear skies and thunderstorms." He added to his problem as he unlocked the engineering lab.

[Torsiedelle]

"Good point.", Torii said. "I prefer rifles; preferably semi-automatic rifles for marksmen, like SVD's or M-14's, but you'd want something small and automatic if you were going into a close-quarters encounter. Oh, and thanks for the praise. Replacing blood would be clever indeed.", She said.

"I don't know much about working on computers, so I don't think I can help much, but what about finding the computer's OS disk and fixing it, then putting the software back on it?"

[Primordial Luxa]

Primordial had a very signature knock. It was a pair of quick loud blows follow by a very sudden trio of rhythmic one and finished with two very distinct end ones. It was defiantly something he had pick up from somewhere but most people would think it was just a catchy rhythm. The true was a much more sinister one. Primordials style of knocking as a deep seated psychological parasite which had been implant in him via an insurance company’s hypnotic advertisement on TV. The ad had been aired about a decade ago when he was younger and more susceptibly as part of one of Gegressive State’s various campaigns. Primordial didn’t know he was subconsciously spreading a company’s jingle every time he asked permission to enter a building but such a parasite was a testament to the Luxan method of advertisement. People were the primary tools of Luxan advertisement. Word of mouth and subconscious triggers were better than banners and sponsorships.

That was partially why Primordial was standing in front of Jasmines door with a clipboard and a bottle of wine.

"Just a minute.", Was the answer from the other end of the door. A few seconds later, the apartment opened up, allowing cool, incense-scented air to poor into the hallway. The tiny woman with red hair stared at the Sorcerer for a moment, taking in his appearance, and smiled. Hanging from her neck, her Faravahar pendant bounced. "Hello, Stranger. How may I help you?", She asked; she gave off an air of friendliness.

"Hi i'm with the neighborhood council" he said with a polite if greasy smile that wouldn't look out of place at a used car dealership. "and I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time to ask you a couple questions regarding recent events, small scale politics and public opinion. With all thats happening we've been worried a lot about the big picture and I feel some of the smaller people might be forgotten so I just wanted to check in and see if we could help each other and the community" Parts of it were straight up lies but parts of it had kernels of truth. Primordial was indeed worried about things like public opinion but he also wanted to test the waters and see how various people might react to future scenarios that he might bring into effect.

[Torsiedelle]

The little foreign girl raised an eyebrow. This guy was a surveyor? She looked surprised, and happy. "Oh, to see public opinion?", She clapped. "Excellent, yes! I'd love to give my opinion on city politics. What do you have for me?", She asked.

[Mincaldenteans]

With the cultists delivering the necessary items and Will handing out their new identities, Alexia and Anais wasted no time in getting a rough plan to keep in contact with one another. A cultist had been spared to answer any questions the group might have, particularly in use of technology where cell phones (of the simplest design, you know, with buttons) were to come in handy. If anything, it gave the group an added measure of normalcy that would further deepen their cover among the masses. Cherry, the only progressive thinking one ahead of perhaps Anais herself, took to the cell and demanded something sleeker. A touch screen was given and Cherry was left sitting down quietly mumbling to herself as she shook the rectangle object at random whenever it didn't obey her command. Anais lowered the Mesmer's arms in attempt to save face with each tantrum.

When the cultist was done being interrogated for every morsel of information, the Monk and Ritualist set the guild to task. They would leave today, quietly, and in trees. With everyone having their own unique identities and split to the Market or Industrial districts, the only matter left standing was the concern for offense and defense were they forced into such a situation. Alexia would take Reyna and Traxt, while Anais had Cherry (to which there was no argument on) and Erick. Naturally, each person would operate on their own but Alexia insisted it was necessary that each team knew who to call if aide was required. The rest would remain alert and only act if there was no other alternative. With solemn agreement to their task, the guild began packing up anything of consequence and use. Thanks to the nifty use of hammerspace, Traxt, Cherry, and Anais packed in as much as they could, filled with tomes and scrolls, materials, focii and sigils. Without anyone seeing, Cherry had also packed her special toy, Plox the Plushy Elemental.

With half the library and weapons cleared out from the Guild's stone halls and stores, the last remaining matter was their dress which ranged from college looks (Erick) to edgy fashion (Cherry's).

The first tree set out, the Monk hooking her arm to Traxt's right while Reyna took the left.

"Such a gentlemen," Alexia cooed to Traxt's stoic facade. The man really needed to lighten up sometimes. Reyna could only smirk and tug him her way.

"This isn't a tug-of-war," he reminded Reyna crisply.

"Could have fooled me," the warrior replied smoothly and brushed strands of her short black hair back.

The elevator stopped at level three with Dan standing at the elevator. "Hi there," he said with an easy smile and raised eyebrows.

"You guys look different," he said with a hint of suspicion.

Alexia shrugged and pulled him in in a semi-hug, "Oh, just an excursion outside the city. Cherry said we had to get in some culture."

"Better now than later, I suppose," Dan replied with a nod. "Likely the last time if this city has anything to say about it."

"Rather sad," she conceded with a light sigh. "But hopefully the situation will ease. I'm sure the denizens here will come to see the errors of their ways."

"One can hope, but humans are... fickle," Dan could only conclude with a frown. The elevator doors slid open and the four of them walked out. There was a new person near the exit and Dan realized he likely missed more coming into the building than he initially thought. So much for immersing myself, he chided. Aurora would be most unhappy knowing there was little headway made in familiarizing himself with the other residents. Surely the brief encounter with the Klingon counted, but alien encounters of the tall, burly, and stinky could only go so far.

"We have to go, before it gets dark," Alexia said with a beatific smile and hugged him tighter, she freed her hook on Traxt and slipped a guild emblem into the brown and black-pinstripe jacket he had on. "You just have to come visit us more often. Cherry has threatened to hex the television you gave us, so... anything you could do to save that. Erick is rather fond of it."

Laughing lightly, the Summer fae nodded and bid them farewell by walking close to the exit and seeing them off.

After laying in bed for a bit, Sal decided it was time to meet a few of the people who lived here in The Building. Can't stay locked in my apartment for the entire time, he thought, slipping out of his worn out clothes. He quickly put on a clean outfit consisting of a white field shirt, a small sun hat, and a decent looking pair of pants. He went to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror before going out: he wanted to look decent, first impressions were always important to him. Giving himself a quick look around, Sal decided that he looked good enough to go out of the apartment and look around in the lobby first, maybe go to the Market District if there was nobody in the lobby. Better bring my wallet, don't know if it'll come in handy, Sal thought.

Exiting the apartment and locking the door, Sal went straight to the elevator, entered it, and pushed the "L" button. A nice little song played as the elevator descended, chiming rhythmically in a cheery tone that was extremely soothing to the ears. As the elevator dinged, opening up to the lobby, Sal couldn't help but wonder if he'd find someone nice to get with. He hadn't been in any sort of relationship yet, so he yearned for a chance to be someone's boyfriend. As he entered the lobby, he began walking around, looking at things, hopping either that someone interesting would pass by and he could start up conversation, or that they would come over, noticing him, and be the one's to start trying conversation. He really hoped for the second, he had always been really shy and didn't really know how to start up a decent convo with anyone he didn't already know. He waited patiently by the exit of the Building, looking through his book he brought with him.

He turned to the young man clearly focused on his book. Dan almost felt guilty to interrupt whatever adventure the book had ensnared the newcomer in.

"Hi there, you must be new? I'm Dan," the fae greeted with a warm smile and extended his hand in greeting.