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

[Northwest Slobovia]

The neophytes had put aside their laundry and now gave Sandy their full attention. "You saw him this morning? What was he doing?" one of the women asked.

"Crossing the street against the light. There's not really much to say: it was just him and an Indian guy, and they crossed the street without checking for traffic, and I nearly hit them. The Indian guy slapped the jeep's hood. They stared at me, I stared back at them. I wanted to tell them off, but the guy behind me honked his horn and we had to go. That's it. And now he's dead, and a bunch of kids are dead, and..."

Sandy shivered involuntarily; the shock was wearing off. Lucky man: shock leaves me at least somewhat lucid. Saved me once. Sandy whispered, "If I'd only known, I could have prevented..." It was irrational, but he felt he should have done something. The full force of what happened will hit me soon. I'll--

Sandy's eyes snapped up and locked on to Giovenith's face when she said "Gestapo". A mind reader? No, I'm still too jumpy. She's just another person suspicious of our allies. I'll definitely have to talk to her later.

Sandy listened quietly to Adrastus and Alexia as they spoke. They were being perfectly reasonable: we didn't know all that much. But there was one small matter they were overlooking.

I'll alert our contact to your encounter, Mr. Bela. You might have information that proves helpful. But, for now, let's focus on getting things set up. We may need that circular ward sooner than expected."

"That is what I'm trying to prevent, actually. While it's possible that today's explosion was some bizarre accident, or that the children were ... shall we say, 'caught in a crossfire', and the guy was aiming at some other target and ... missed, it looks like a deliberate attack. What does that make the Indian guy who was with him? An accomplice? Another attacker? It's somewhat difficult to wait for another attack we might be able to prevent. We're going to need to do more than just pick up the pieces if we're going to prevent... what we all fear." Do I really need to come out and say it? Caring for other supernaturals and cyborgs will buy us some time, but won't change anybody's opinion. We'll lose that way.

[The BranRiech]

Taking up the offer on the cookie, Rachelle grabbed the bite from her acquaintance that she'd been grouped with for the field trip. Her other groupmate, Laura, was seemingly antsy about the whole situation. "Well, I mean, how long away do you live?" The girl asked, rolling her eyes with a slight chuckle. She knew something was amiss due to the fact that the field trip was cancelled, but Rachelle wasn't really that miffed.

"Well, and look at it this way, we get to go home, I mean, fun?" The girl smiled, grinning as she looked through her bag, completely unaware at the horrific scene across town. Her father was minutes away, but it would more than likely be a good while before he could actually pick her up.

"But still, kind of makes you wonder what happened, right?"

[Swith Witherward]

Torii's searches for "State of Bielield", "Confederation of Torsiedelle", "Done Conflict", and "Bielield Police Department" provided information she was already aware of, including stale news from earlier that morning. The exception was "Done Conflict". Google asked her if she meant "Drone Conflict", and then Rule 34 kicked in once more.

---

Marcus had retreated towards the rear of the group, withdrawing while the news rolled off the anchor's tongue. The dead class could have easily been Eva's or Rachelle's. It didn't matter what part of the city they hailed from - and for a brief moment, Marcus worried that it had been Rachelle's - they were still innocents. The boy massaged the back of his neck to relieve the knots forming in his muscles, and then moved further away to avoid attention.

He needed to punch something. Anything. Perhaps he could just leave completely, maybe head to the pits to pound out some steel. Manual labor was good for bleeding away anger. He decided it was the best course of action, and then turned to walk away, but he got no further than that. The young girl from the atrium had come downstairs to take her meal. Judging by her horrified expression, she'd been eavesdropping.

She stared up at him, fretful eyes locking gaze with his own. She was fairly certain the rassaphore would chastise her. Normally, she would have folded her tiny hands and accepted stern words regarding her lapse in manners, although Brother Usseio's reprimands were kinder the rest of the brotherhood's and never left her feeling poorly. She continued to stare instead. Marcus could only watch as her bottom lip rolled forward and began to quiver.

He cast a surreptitious glance towards Brother Adrastus. As usual, the old archimandrite was preoccupied with his own concerns. He slipped from the room to join the child in the hall.

"I can read lips," Marcus chided as squatted in front of her. "Especially if they have emotions tattooed on them."

The words were meant to bring a smile to her face but the child's sorrow couldn't be dispelled by quips. She hiccuped softly and tilted her head.

"Look here, Apricitas-," he began.

Marcus sucked in his breath as the child collided with his chest. She had never sought physical comfort before now, and he marveled at her small fingers as they clasped onto his hoodie, twisting the material in an effort to draw herself closer to him. He slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her from the floor. She was still small enough to rest at hip so Marcus cradled her against his torso and slowly rocked to soothe her rising fears.

"It's alright to be scared," he nuzzled her forehead. It dawned on him that he'd never asked who her progenitors were, not that it mattered. She was only seven or so, old enough to be given her responsibilities. That she conducted them at the Observatory was only proof that her parents had conceived her, bore her to term, and then returned to their quest to strip away any traces of their own humanity. Marcus swallowed his own resentment towards his father.

"Apri, do you remember the stories I've told you about the godling with moonlight in her hair?"

The child mutely nodded her head against his chest. Of course she remembered them. She had spent the winter listening to the rassaphore's marvelous tales about paper horses and beautiful dragons.

Marcus smiled. "You were deep in meditation earlier. I bet you didn't realize that she walked right past you."

Apricitas lifted her head. The godling was real? As in really real? A part of her had always firmly denied it. The rassaphore's tales were meant to teach her about overcoming doubts and fears, and how to be brave even when you were shaking inside, and how a good heart was the best heart. They were all made up. They had to be. He was a secret heretic in that regard, the rebel that dared to whisper such silly things when his duty was supposed to encompass filling her brain with logical solutions and cold instruction. Her once-trembling lip slowly drew inward again and she caught it between her front teeth.

"Hmph!" Marcus tipped his head in feigned indignation.

His snort nearly rivaled Brother Adrastus' own hallmark noise. She would have laughed if the old priest hadn't been standing in the other room. Her eyes widened slightly as she studied Marcus' face. "Brother Usseio, may I see her? Please?" If the godling existed, then all the stories about her were fact, and all the inspiration the child drew from them was well founded.

Marcus carried her to the doorway and they peered into the room together.

A sharp intake of breath betrayed Apricitas' delight upon spotting Giovenith. The godling looked exactly as the rassaphore had always described her. In fact, she was even more beautiful than that. The child's fingers untangled themselves from Marcus' hoodie. She would have clapped her hands together but for Brother Adrastus' proximity.

"Be on your best behavior," Marcus warned as he lowered her to the floor. "And don't draw too much attention. I'm in no mood to do extra chores just because you couldn't contain yourself."

Apricitas blinked in disbelief. Did he mean to say that she could actually meet Giovenith? She didn't have much time to ponder it. Marcus ushered her into the room, taking a roundabout route to avoid the group at large. And then they were there, standing in front of the godling as she hung up her phone. The child inhaled the scents of crafting paper and paint, and delighted in the way the light reflected off her hair.

"Hello Giovenith," Marcus smiled faded somewhat as he studied her face. "Is everything okay?"

Earlier fears forgotten, Apricitas pressed herself against the rassaphore's leg and bashfully peered at the magical young woman before her. She would wait to be introduced, as was proper.


Brother Adrastus hadn't noticed the child's arrival, or else he had chosen to ignore it in favor of the conversation at hand.

"I think you misunderstand, Mr. Bela. While we wait for instruction from our contact, or for their arrival here if that is their decision, we should pass the time productively. We can best do that by preparing. Unless the rest of you have a better idea?"

---

"I live just down the way," Sara shrugged in reply to Rachelle's question.

"She lives in cultist housing," Laura interjected. "I mean, it's not the projects or anything, but it's really cramped. You've seen the houses, right? They're those tiny cottages stacked next to each other. My brother's college dorm room is bigger than their entire house!"

Sara rolled her eyes and vowed to never ask Laura to come over for a sleepover again. She was spared the effort of coming up with a good retort by the arrival of her mother. The child breathed a relieved sigh. "Goodbye then. See you tomorrow."

Laura waited until Sara was across the room before speaking again. "That's Mrs. Thompson," she gestured toward Sara's mother. The woman looked haggard; dark circles lined her eyes, and she seemed unnaturally pale. Today she was more fretful than normal. Laura shook her head at the woman's appearance. "Sara's dad does dangerous work. I guess the stress of it just eats away at the whole family."

She stuffed a bit of cookie into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. "What about you? Where d'you live, Rachelle?"

---

The mattress yielded to Septimus' weight as he settled beside the lizard, shifting her slightly towards him, but Neste didn't process his proximity nor did his words reach her ears. The crack had widened despite her best efforts; her basal ganglia couldn't outrace the machine. The first protocol clicked into place, shutting down her defenses as well as her offensive capabilities, and Neste reeled. Without her nesting basket, her body would be vulnerable.

Thaddeus! Her eyes shot open. Why hadn't she thought of him before? He might have something. A box! A crate! Neste opened her mouth to convey this new possibility to Septimus only to discover that he was sitting beside her.

"Nn-"

He draped his arm around her, putting himself in contact with her skin and unshielded mind. Her thoughts were laid bare, and his became an unintentional assault - she could taste the conflicting emotional and physical responses swirling through him. The harsh realization stung, and the machine viciously seized upon the break in concentration. Neste felt her consciousness plunging into darkness. Her thoughts buffeted them both but did little to alleviate the situation.

No! I have to push him away! Break the connection with him!

Her own processor would have none of it. It didn't see any difference between her consciousness or his. An organic was an organic. It subjected them both to the second protocol.



Don't move. Don't move! Not yet. Wait for light to come, the frightened whine near Septimus' shoulder indicated that Neste was beside him in the dark. This is not the library. We don't have Scel. Oh my god, this is not our dimension.

The ground began to warm beneath Septimus' feet. Neste slipped her hand into his and intertwined her fingers with his own. I don't care how much I repulse you. We don't have time to ponder it. You mustn't let go. Think back to when we met. You mentioned a place to Ambassador Sage. A place where your people kept miles upon miles of data systems that run sequences without pause. It was the embodiment of technological omnipotence, and when you walked within it, you touched a thousand universes. Your Spire.

Her nails pricked his skin as her grip intensified. This place is similar, but it's no Agymnum Spire. This is the Thought Wash of a Convocation. The collective consciousness of a hive mind. Only this isn't the right one. My processor doesn't recognize the difference in dimensions. It's very limited in function. We should be standing in the Atonement Hall. We would be, if we were back home. We are not in that Hall now.

Pale pinpricks of light winked into existence, dotting the distance and forming odd constellation patterns. A soft glow illuminated the ground where they stood and Neste briefly turned to regard the cyborg in the dim light. You're all in one piece. Good. Now we wait, and I'll try to find the right tunnel to take us back.

Her ears flicked and she sniffed the air. The ship will jump soon.

[The BranRiech]

"You know the apartment on . . . Sub . . . Subabsurdus or something?" Rachelle asked, testing the waters with seeing if her friend knew about the building, and frankly, to see what her personal opinion on it was. She didn't really want to give anything away that she didn't have to, and she'd become used to asking the question in response to an inquiry about where she lived. Contemplating the answers to the question forming in her head, she reached down and bit down on the piece of cookie she'd been offered.

"I mean, we live in a building that looks a lot like it, right? You know how big it is? The rooms are pretty big too, I even have my own." She tried continuing the conversation as if she'd never brought up the building in the first place.

--

With the view of the museum in question being shown on the news, Yuna decided she couldn't take it anymore. How the hell could someone so heartless exist that would go out and plan on murdering kids? The concept of terror was unfathomable to Yuna. It didn't process in her mind as something someone could ever possibly do. Her skin lit up with tiny goosebumps, almost unnoticeable with her darkened skin-tone, but the uncomfortable look on her face didn't need explaining as she regressed to sitting down cross-legged on the floor.

Her eyes panned down, her glasses nearly falling off as she stared blankly down at the floor. Her wings twitched and tried hard to keep themselves pressed against her back.

[Giovenith]

"As okay as everything can be," Giovenith sighed, stuffing her phone away and offering a comforting smile to her newly-made special someone. They hadn't any time to make any further decisions about how they stood since the first kiss, and in a small way, she was still just a bit terrified of it. Her eyes soon looked down and spotted the shaken young girl he had brought with him, instantly recognizing her as the guardian of the pendulum. "Oh hello there," she greeted gently, crouching down and offering a welcoming smile. "You're the one from the pendulum place, aren't you? What's your name?"

She wasn't that much older than the kids who had just recently departed their own world, and that fact touched Giovenith deeper than normal. Even if the child was a stranger, the godling still almost felt the need to build walls around her and declare to the world, 'No, not this one! Not again.' She'd do it for all the children if she could.

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

Tsu smiled and waved at Torii, she made her way and sat down on the couch. Flicked out her phone, waved to Kale and took a seat. She brought up a app called "Aces of Infinity: Shattered World" , a popular mobile version of a hit game in her nation, Advanced Aces, It came complete with a story line featured around drones and unmanned versions of military aircraft as the main fighting force of Air Forces around the world and that a terrorist group takes advantage of nation's dependency on this massive aerial fleets and the player must stop them with a varietys of both manned and unmanned aircraft, her online name and persona, Butterfly Master, is well known as a very good and skilled player with her feared FA-57 "Monarch Butterfly" and its advanced version, newly added, FA-60 "Monarch Master", which are real life aircraft capable of leading a group of drones called a "Flutter" designed to help protect the aircraft from incoming missiles with laser systems within the Tsuyoian Air Force.

She would occasionally glance up and looked over a Torii, wondering what she was typing. "What ya looooooking at?" she asked in a sing-song voice.

[Torsiedelle]

Torii couldn't deny to herself that she was happy to have Tsu beside her. She looked at her friend and smiled. "We're looking for info on...wait, promise us you won't tell anyone, okay?"

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

"Okay, my lips are sealed!" She leaned closer, tryingto get a glance at Torii's llaptop. She wanted to see what's on the screen. "So what your ggetting info on!?"

[Mincaldenteans]

Observatory

"And perhaps that's exactly what they want us to do," Alexia argued to Sandy's suggestion with a shake of her head. Her voice was calm, she made no heat in her tone, preferring to be as reasonable without adding any anxiety - there was plenty enough to go around already, "When my people's defense were broken, we struck the enemy at odds and ends to distract them from their main goals. Hit a supply line at the north, do a raid upon an encampment an hour later in the east, and ambush scouting parties along the way. The whole point of it was to distract the enemy long enough to hit them harder while they're lured."

She nodded at the screen, the news was going over the incident again. "If we go looking for them actively, we may as well paint targets upon our backs. We haven't any more information upon the persons we set our eyes to earlier on the street; going out there to look will divert us from our goals. That doesn't mean we can't collect information or work with the other groups, I'm merely stating we should be circumspect with our actions if these agents are responsible for this heinous act."

Anais stepped up behind the monk and spoke up, "We can set up the ward immediately if its available now. My... preparations will take time and I would need Alexia's help momentarily while I... summon... things." It was hard to say 'spirits', because they technically weren't. They weren't demons of the Mist, undead, ghosts, souls or visages of her ancestors. They were non-corporeal ethereal matter that served a function and dissipated after a time. It took invoking her ancestors, the god of Death and Ice, and move sets that resembled shamanistic trance to channel and summon them. She quirked a odd smile due to her lack of explaining, "It is hard to describe them, I apologize, but the sooner I can set this up the quicker we can be ready to receive the injured."

[Torsiedelle]

Well, it looked like Tsu agreed. She wasnt the brightest girl, bit Tsu could be trusted, probably. Torii showed her the laptop, with several tabs open on the internet.


"Chaos. Well, information on the terrorist attack, Drones, and Chaos. The attack earlier was too convenient for the opposition, and I'm wondering why our Chaos buddies didn't see the bastard before he blew those kids away. It doesn't add up, and I know that they're keeping it secret from us all."

Her smile faded as she looked back at the laptop, although she did scoot closer to Tsu. "I should ask Mr. Von Eldritch about it."

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

"Ive been in two Drone Conflicts, and to me, Chaos are a bunch of weirdy weird weirdos with a thing for gathering in circles and summoning things like adults that haven't moved out of their mom's basement and play some RPG board game." Tsu moved back to display her discomfort of Torii getting to close to her. She went back to playing on her phone, giving a bit more attention to it. "So, what happened in the terrorist attack?"

[Highfort]

Septimus felt himself falling as waves of nausea overcame him. Neste was dropping him into the tether - but why?

The darkness swarmed his senses and he resisted the urge to move as Neste's voice echoed. Something clicked and he suppressed the urge to scream. This was not their tether - and this was not the library. She confirmed as much and he attempted to calm himself as the nausea passed into a general feeling of unease.

A sense of the physical returned to him as ground materialized beneath their feet and cracks of light slowly illuminated their surroundings. Neste grasped his hand with her own and a strange tingling sensation - rather unpleasant, when he thought about it - ran up his arm.

Her mention of the Spire sent a chill down his spine. The horrors of disappearing, of getting lost in the Spire and never returning, were all-too-real. He remembered tracing the ping of Titus' mind through the Spire, only for it to cease when he was almost out. He was right there, the exit program was prepped and waiting for him to activate it. And he just died, minutes away from freedom.

Her grip intensified. He shifted himself uncomfortably, careful not to let go. He turned to meet her gaze as they inspected each other in the pale light of the Wash, and he let out a sigh of relief as she declared him to be in one piece.

I'm sorry that you have to go through all this, he broke his silence, swallowing as he carefully picked at his next words, And... you shouldn't repulse me. I don't know why you do, but you shouldn't... And I'm sorry that I'm repulsed.

[Mincaldenteans]

TargBound Home

Tavana

You are the last of us! The House of Saib'k cannot hold without an heir!

I am your daughter! Lady of the House! Matriarch to all that you hold dear! Father, please! She begged, holding his hand tight. The sickness had struck him weeks ago and despite the two denying the ailment it had finally succumb to its bitter end. He laid in a cot, the indignity of it was as heartbreaking as watching her father pass. Unable to hold a sword, unable to die a glorious death as was the Klingon way.

You are a woman, Tavana! No house can- His lungs failed him, the air barely a wisp in his body as it struggled to circulate the magenta life line that was his blood. He struggled to regain his composure, his grip upon her hand tighter than any warrior upon his pommel as he drew in what air he could inhale. His pale white whiskers huffed in a puff of air, barely alleviating the old Klingon of his dire condition. It did little to deter his mind and what would happen after his dearth. You must wed! Our house will not survive if you do nothing!

I have done more than most in this city! I am your daughter, Guardian to Saib'k, Keeper of All That Would Challenge! My place is enough to ensure our survival! She argued heatedly. Why?! Why couldn't this old fool realize her potential and all that she endured in his name? She was tougher, wiser, and had the leadership that was severely lacking in the city of Varth. Why you damned fool, why must you make it so hard? What would it take to earn your favor? Tavana would not air those words out, those words were long passed.

You are a fool! He rasped to her disappointment as she felt his grip on on her hand loosen while he wheezed for breath. His glossy, white glass-like, eyes peered at her in disgust and disapproval. No woman could ever bring the house honor the way a male could. Why couldn't she accept the customs? What would it take? Was his dying will not enough? Would she dishonor him and his bloodline for her foolish pride? Why couldn't she understand the importance of legacy?!

I only wish you thought of me better, father. She whispered sadly, a tear rolled down her cheek. Tavana tightened her grip upon his in attempt to garner his favor with his last dying breath. Please father, she begged internally.

You will learn. In time. The last words that would sear into her soul unto the last of her days. Even now, she didn't have his approval. She would prove him wrong. He peered upon Tavana's fuzzy visage, his blind eyes failing to convey all that he needed to pass to her to understand. I will see myself in Gre'thor, his last thought came and left as swiftly as his last breath of life.

His grip slackened.

Tavana panicked and shook the withered old man.

There was no answer.

Reality hit her faster than any bloodwine coursing through her body. Almost immediately, a wailing death cry pierced the night in warning of a fallen passing to the afterlife; a warrior, a noble, was to enter the gates of Sto-Vo-Kor, and not even the gods would dare stand in Tavana's way as she ushered her father into the Hall of Warriors.

I will make you proud, father! She said fiercely, desperately. There was no response.

Varth will know a new hero this day. Tavan said firmly, gripping his lifeless hand in hers, tugging it close to her heart, I will be its savior, its hope and its succor against the darkness! I will find the warrirors to battle against the petaQ that stand in our way! I only hope you think of me fondly when I lead these men into battle, father. You have my word, my life and my heart. Be at peace. Tavan sniffled, wiping the hot tears from her eyes. The stupid fool! She will prove him wrong in his judgment of her to the bitter end. She rose up from his bedside and looked upon her deceased father, a well of purpose, anger, hatred, loyalty and love mixed in a jumble that would propel her through the rest of her life. Still, so much was left unsaid, so much was left unresolved. It was hardly fair, it was hardly honorably.

I will carve us into the pages of Klingon history, father. Just you see, you shortsighted fool. She turned and walked out of his room.

Gasping for air, the old crone rose from her hard metal bedding and drew in precious air into her lungs. The burning sensation of a nightmare passed quickly and her mind instantaneously retrained itself to the setting she found herself in. Immediately she recalled that she was on an alien ship, with the only other Klingon snoring loudly on the second level bunk. Tavan felt dizzy, dazed even, as her warriors instinct tried to penetrate the elusive and clouded veil that blinded her senses. In the end, Tavana could only fall back onto the pillow, the only 'soft' piece of article that supported her head as the night drew her back into slumber.

You will know a journey no others will match, father. I hope you know that, if anything. She pleaded in her trailing thoughts. The sound of Mezran's snoring gave some comfort to which she rolled to her side and let his snoring lull her back to sleep and into something more blissful than her previous dream.

Until we meet again, father. She let her last thoughts carry itself away. If the dead could only hear her.





Until then, my dear daughter.

[Northwest Slobovia]

"I think you misunderstand, Mr. Bela. While we wait for instruction from our contact, or for their arrival here if that is their decision, we should pass the time productively. We can best do that by preparing. Unless the rest of you have a better idea?"

Sandy nodded mutely, somewhat downcast. Even if he had had a better idea, he lacked the spirit to voice it. The shock had worn off, and he felt drained... spent. So it was fortunate that he knew nothing of hospital wards, and at the moment, he had little care for their setup and operation. Coulda told me you expected more than 'we'll get back to you', though. But if the contact is who I think it is, it might just have been better if that was the case.

If Hans showed up, it would confirm that there was nothing Sandy could do to prevent the next attack, just as there was nothing he could have done to prevent the last one. The last time, he didn't know who he'd nearly run into; this time, it was a cat and mouse game between the attacker -- or more likely, the attacker and whoever sent him -- and USiPo, whom he distrusted. He was simply powerless to affect events, and he'd just have to wait for them to play out.

Sandy glanced around. Yuna seemed to share his mood; she looked like she lacked the will to stand. Giovenith had disappeared; the news may have been enough to dampen even her spirits.

Sandy's mood sank further: Great, now Alexia is lecturing me, and she didn't understand what I meant. Just what I needed. Anais, at least, seemed to have a concrete, practical plan. Sandy showed some spark when she mentioned a summoning ritual; he wondered just what sort of mysterious beings she intended to bring into this world.

[WIP: a detail may be added later]

[Torsiedelle]

"Ive been in two Drone Conflicts, and to me, Chaos are a bunch of weirdy weird weirdos with a thing for gathering in circles and summoning things like adults that haven't moved out of their mom's basement and play some RPG board game." Tsu moved back to display her discomfort of Torii getting to close to her. She went back to playing on her phone, giving a bit more attention to it. "So, what happened in the terrorist attack?"

"Some jackass blew a bunch of kids into next year.", Torii told Tsu, not at all finding it hard to say. "And who do you think is going to be speaking? Hans; USiPo, not the Police. I don't trust then. I'm not the only one. We're trying to find any info we can on their faction. I don't feel like I can help in their little fight if they don't want to disclose anything. This isn't that Bane fucker or World War Two; It's a bunch of dirty, immature, piece of shit German traitors and some insignificant civilians. Pardon my language."

She looked at Kale. "Who all has emails around here? Do you know anyone who's good with computers?"

[The Carlisle]

Kale looked to Torii when she responded. Kale herself was looking up things on Chaos. Half out of interest, and half seeing if there is a clue. She was reading through the Wikipedia articles on Chaos, starting on the greek mythology tab.

"I have an e-mail. I don't know about others, but they probably do. Even if they did, I don't know what they are," she said, "Anyways, what kind of computer things do you need to be done? I'm decent at it. Learned some coding, but I'm not very proficient."

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

"This sounds like one of those things were a group of people get suspicious of a event that happens, the people like USIPo are secretly hiding the details, and as we get more info then they come after us! Ohh! I want in! I'll keep secret, I use to be in the Tsuyoian Special Forces, I'll surely be of some use! They'll never think a idiot like me could pose a threat to their plans!" Tsu smiled and gleamed, she was eager. She wanted to help, feel like she did back in STARS, stealthy and deceiving. Maybe, she could also use of as a excuse to brandish military uniform or a silenced gun. Even if she didn't, the idiot still wanted some fun.

[Torsiedelle]

Torii's gaze once again fell on Tsu, somewhat bored. She looked back at Kale with a similar stare. "I was going to say something about maybe getting access to their emails or whatnot, but nevermind."

Torii closed her laptop and sighed. "We've hit a wall already. I'll make sure to see the raptors about helping us later, and I'll go to the police tomorrow to ask a few things. For now, I just don't know where to take this information."

"Oh, and Tsu, I don't know. This is serious, like, very serious. I'm doing this to protect my friends, like Marcus and Gio, and Yuna and Drova. I don't want them to possibly get hurt while working for some people and then have it turn out that what they worked for wasn't exactly what they hoped it was. Anyway, what do we do now?"

What could they do? Well, one idea hit Torii, although it could be put aside. Yeah, she'd need time to plan it out, anyway.

Torii let her gaze fall on the TV again. She was bored.

[Swith Witherward]

Observatory
The child's eyes widened as Giovenith addressed her. A moment of shyness seized her and she buried her face against Marcus' thigh.

"This is Apricitas," Marcus dropped his hand to brush the curls atop the girl's head. "She's a neophyte here, most likely the daughter of one of our priests. She's normally more composed than this... but we've all had a rough morning."

Marcus rubbed the back of his neck. This was an aspect of his life that people outside the brotherhood seldom saw. "Nights here were pretty dull after evening prayer. She was assigned to me over the winter, and we passed the time by sharing stories. You see-"

The child's face rolled to expose one curious eye to Giovenith. "Brother Usseio says you can turn paper into beautiful things."

"-you were her favorite person to hear about. I hope you don't mind, " Marcus felt his ears redden. "Um, would you like some coffee?"



"The man may have left prints on the hood," Brother Adrastus nodded, "I'll send a brother down to lift them, if you don't mind, Mr. Bela."

The old priest flicked off the television and dispatched one of the women with a simple gesture before addressing the group again. "I should tell you, I share a bit of Anais' concern that certain actions may paint us as targets. If you wish to hunt pheasant, you can sit quietly and wait for the pheasant to poke its head from the reeds. It's time consuming. I prefer to fire off a round to flush them from the grass. It creates a target-rich environment. Now then, let's see to the ward."

He chose to ignore Marcus' small group as he led the others back down the hall and across a sunlit atrium. "The room I have in mind once housed the lower mechanisms of a telescope. It's since been stripped bare and cleaned, but its circular design would suit your needs, Anais."

The room in question contained no windows and only one door, but it was so large that the Building's entire lobby could comfortably fit inside it. Grey stone walls had been cleaned of grease and grime and the concrete floor seemed to be immaculate. "Tell me what is needed. The brothers can bring all the items here and arrange them however you like."



Building
Dr. Stewart Briggs was an ass. The sanctimonious prick had joined the anchor after the commercial break, and had dedicated at least ten minutes of his time on diatribe that could only be described as bigoted beyond pale with regard to the abhumans in their midst. The anchor herself was repulsed by it, and latched upon an incoming feed as an excuse to end Brigg's dreadful bellyaching.

"Ah, I'm sorry Dr. Briggs. I've just been informed that they've started the press conference."

The segment cut away to the courthouse steps where a small podium had been set up. Several people were clustered around it, to include the Justice Department Secretary, Robert Hess, and the Bielefeld City Mayor, Ivan Kepler. Beside him stood the Chief of Police.

A haggard-faced man had taken the podium. Torii would instantly recognize him as one of the men she'd met more than a year prior. The caption on the screen read John Banks, Minister of Law and Order. The press conference had obviously begun before the anchor could scrape Dr. Briggs off her shoe.

"- sources are focused on finding answers. We are not releasing the names of the minors at this time, nor will we release those names until all the victims' families have been contacted. I ask that you respect that process."

"Is this the same man police were chasing earlier? Can you confirm that this is the same suspect?" a reporter's voice rose above the din.

Banks shook his head. "I can not confirm that at this time. Please remember that this is an ongoing investigation. What I'm giving you is preliminary information that we have been able to confirm. I'm not going to stand here and speculate. I urge you all not to jump to conclusions."

"Is this a case for the USiPo?" the same voice asked.

"At this time, we are not going to rule out that the perpetrator of this crime could be a supernatural being. The USiPo will work closely with other law enforcement agencies but, until we know for certain that this was an abhuman, it will only serve as an auxiliary to those agencies."

"Can you tell us if any organizations have come forward to claim-"

Banks waved the question away. "I've answered that question already. Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen. We'll keep you abreast of details as the investigation continues."

The feed returned to the studio and the anchor. Dr. Briggs was nowhere to be seen, and her demeanor seemed to have brightened slightly at the merciful change. "We'll return to our scheduled broadcasting shortly, but we'll continue to cover the events as well as bring you coverage of further press conferences as they develop..."



The Ship
There is no reason for you to apologize for the methods of my people. Well, for the good intentions of the liberated Swithwardian government, at any rate, she replied cooly. I only wish I had been able to break physical contact before my processor took my defenses offline.

Neste bit her lip and returned to scanning the tiny lights, but her thoughts had inadvertently flickered back to Septimus' strange physical reactions. She couldn't help but tie them in to the battle the night prior. He had obviously seen what she was. She bowed her head in acknowledgment, accepting the situation by discarding her lizard form in favor of her construct design. Her horns and the scales lining the back of her neck captured the dim light and reflected it as she turned her face further away.

I am what I am. You weren't disgusted before last night. You're disgusted now. I can understand that. All the other humans in my life have been disgusted when they witnessed the fulfilled purpose of my design. Just like Scel predicted. Oh, why should I expect it to be any different, really?

But I did, didn't I? You were different. I wanted to believe it was so, and balked at Scel's admonishments.

Neste hiccuped. My mind is weary, Septimus. It's unfair to put you through this. When we return, I'll... find a different place. The vehicle or bay. Someth-

Her ears pricked and her grasp intensified. Found it! I found the right stream!

[Torsiedelle]

Oh boy, listening to that Briggs asshole was sure the thriller (or not). At least it gave Torii a few chuckles. "What a douche!", She commented several times. When the Minister came up, she cocked a smug grin and laughed. "Oh look, Motherfucker Banks."

She looked at Kale. "Okay, that was mean. I mean, Briggs wasn't mean, from what I remember. I apologize for the motherfucker bit. He's the one who asked residents to help the government after the Drone Conflict, and Chaos jumped in. I sure bet he regrets that decision now, poor bastard."

.......

Katya was getting real tired of the self-righteous asshole on the TV. Briggs sounded like some of the people back in her home. Only difference was, they all had points about what they said, and Briggs was an asshole.

She crossed her arms and watched, then began to tap her foot. Jesus, how long would this guy blabber on? He was worse than a woman! When the news finally cut away, she sighed. "Thank god, that man was one cheeky little prick!", She said. "Now, let's see Mr. Banks."

"God, I need a drink...and a smoke..."

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

"....Alright.." Tsu leaned back, she sat and crossed her legs. Becoming trapped in her phone game's surprisingly good graphics and smooth gameplay for such a advanced game on a device like her's. She mumbled tactical stuff and giggled.

Tsu looked at the TV, the person on it didn't interest her in the slightest, all Briggs was to her is just other person who has some high authority in this crazy city who has no importance into her life yet.

[Tiltjuice]

From the cupboard, MB aimed and changed the channel.

Allowing the mischievous rabbit to learn how to build a TF gun had not been the best of ideas.

"And so, it is with the greatest pleasure that I introduce Dr. Stewart Briggs, author of the recently released The Crimes Against Humanity. He is also a professor of sociology at..."

The talk show host's voice trailed off into nothingness as MB lowered the volume, content to let the closed captions mangle everything she said. She wasn't very convincing, anyway, so the black and white text was more entertaining than the actual program.

Silly bookman.

[Giovenith]

"Like this?" Giovenith asked in gentle mock-curiosity to the little girl, as she held out her palms in front of her. Before the little girl's very eyes, paper folded and unfolded itself with crinkly whispers until it settled in the form of a tiny bunny rabbit. Not wanting the girl to feel intimidated or bashful, she kept her voice quiet and mellow as she offered the piece to Apricitas. "Here, for you, a present."

Giovenith, up until recently, has always had trouble with people her own age, but younger children had hardly ever been a problem. Though she didn't mind, she secretly found it odd that Marcus had turned her into stories for the young girl, as the godling never saw herself as any notable kind of figure. It reminded her of when they were talking some time before the first Valentine's Day, I mean, c'mon, your arrival at the old building is something like a legend. She gave Apricitas a smile, and then looked back up at the young cyborg. "But what about the brave, smart, cute boy who took on a giant spider with no weapon? Surely he's worth a tale too," she asked in a slightly teasing voice, rising to her feet and nodding. "Coffee would be nice."

If there was work to be done soon, it was probably best Giovenith took what time she had to make sure she wasn't too fidgety or nervous for work. She needed steady hands, untouched by shocking sorrow... untouched enough, anyway.

[Monfrox]

After a bit, Brit decided there was enough sitting around. She walked over to Brother Adrastus and begged his attention for a bit.

"Uh, 'scuse me. Not wanting to interrupt, but what exactly kind of work would you have for me? I'm not very adept medically; I only have a Basic First Aid qualification and that's long since expired. I don't have any real powers or anything like that, so I'm a bit lost as to what I'm going to be doing here. I dunno I'd rather just....I don't wanna be in your way if it comes down to that, okay?"

She wasn't very confident in any of her words. Parts of her believed she was doing a good thing and she did have things to offer. Other parts believed that she didn't have any use here and would be better off not wasting space.

[Highfort]

Her reply left him reeling for a moment as he processed that the Swithwardian government - about which he'd heard such praise from Brutus in the dossier written up for him before deploying on the Dystan Assignment - had enabled this would-be protocol of torture. The liberated Swithwardian government - with few if any ties to the Nifid - had done this. The idea only worsened his growing nausea, and he fought to keep himself dignified. If he was lucky, when they got out of here, he wouldn't be staring at worms and the like in his own vomit.

As she transformed into her construct form and he beheld once more her entrancing beauty, he found himself yet again struck uncomfortable rather than awed. What was it about her that made him so? She turned away from him and he opened his mouth to reply but found himself struck silent.

Will you accept that you do not like her? Your obsession with this pathetic creature was once fascinating but it's now growing to be worrying. You need to focus on what's really important and-

The processor fell silent as Neste explained herself. Septimus began to shake his head as she misinterpreted his body's replies for how he actually felt, but she went on. He began to grit his teeth - he'd subjected her to this betrayal and all because his body for some apparent reason decided that it no longer liked his traveling companion of late. Why?

No, stop! he gripped her hand with equal fervor, Stop that line of thought right now! I am not - NOT - disgusted by you. My body may feel differently on the matter-

He paused to swallow and force down the rising bile in his throat. He was going to do this, damn what the processor thought. She was his friend - nay, more than that, though he couldn't quite articulate how he felt - and the least he could do was explain himself before she went off thinking he was disgusted by her and never wanted to see her again.

Ahem, it may feel differently but I do not and never will find you disgusting, he leveled his gaze upon her, You need not find a different place. You're... important... to me. I'll learn to deal with it.

Can you not for one second do something right and proper in your life, meat bag? Enough of this self-flagellation! It's quite clear you do NOT like her so stop pretending you do and let her take us out of this so we can move on. It's time you faced facts: she is not a replacement for Ophelia, she never will be, stop trying to make her that.

I'm NOT using her to replace Ophelia! he silenced the processor before realizing he'd nearly screamed the words aloud, I... sorry. Look, let's just get out of here before I do something stupid.