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

[Fvaarniimar]

There was a TV in Kwa'a's apartment. It was the sort of furnishing which one might forget to describe, being small and a little old-fashioned. But even here the resident's taste prevailed: instead of the typical black, the casing was a gray half a shade from white, with rusty orange buttons.

It sat innocently on a metal table which was tucked into a small niche in the wall. Just inside the niche, a curtain had been drawn to one side. Kwa'a had had some trouble sleeping; she'd been watching the television for some time, although it had been mainly static. (A rough yarn-and-wire model of her basic concept for the bench was nearing completion.) Now Channel 9's news had come on.

"Is there someone else here? I heard -" Spotting the TV, Rmwtyliin (who had used her bedroom in Kwa'a's apartment for the first time the previous night) frowned. "Oh." She'd seen the things before - notably the previous day - but hadn't realized her guardian had one. Said guardian was unsure how much her ward (being from about a thousand years before their invention) had learned about TV sets. After the program had finished recapping much of what they had gleaned from the meeting, she pulled a narrow, light violet chair with clean lines up next to the squashy emerald chair which she herself had, earlier, turned to face the set; it clicked and scraped as it crossed the stone floor. That done, she commenced explaining to Rmwtyliin.

"This is called a -" she switched to English - "Television set. Television was invented in...um...I think it was invented around 50-75 years before...the current time. At least, it was where we're from." Largely due to television arriving in the homes of most Bomic quite a few years later, Kwa'a couldn't pin down the exact date. "It works by...well, there are different ways to make a television show pictures. All of them involve these things called pixels...

Rmwtyliin had felt like snapping that she KNEW what the stupid talking box that kept telling people bad stuff was called, thank you very much - but then Kwa'a started to explain it. She listened attentively, ire forgotten. So it was not magic or spirits which were responsible for this phenomenon after all - just ways of manipulating light. Maybe like a mirror or lens, but more complicated.

Kwa'a nodded when Rmwtyliin shared that thought. "The principles behind it are similar, I think." TV had been a rare luxury for Kwa'a in Borksmiclen; she'd been rather thrilled upon finding one in her apartment. "Would you like to watch something else?" The info on the meeting was over anyway, and she couldn't stomach listening to any more pro-13 people.

"Like what?"

"Well... There was theater in your time. Correct?" At the girl's nod, the woman continued. "Some portraying real events, some made-up stories?"

"Yes... Oh! You mean that there are stories like that on here?"

"There should be. I hope the selection is better than Borksmiclen's..."

It turned out that if one didn't have cable set up, the selection was worse than Borksmiclen's. Kwa'a crossed the large room, her footfalls echoing, and added 'figure out cable setup' to a to-do list which was growing rather long. As an exercise to hopefully improve her fluency, she had been keeping it in English. Sitting back down, the personification barely noticed as the Bomic-styled dress she wore shifted on her frame. The color, a warm yellow, rather flattered her light brown skin, as did ochre accents.

Duncan had nodded off - Rmwtyliin realized, suddenly, that if she sounded them out in her head she could understand a few things on that paper without him. There was her name - why was that there? And Kwa'a's name, and "food" and "clothes." "We food clothes?"

"Need."

"Need we food clothes?"

Kwa'a smiled. "Yes, we need..." there was a word which would be useful for this, if she could remember...oh, yes. "Them. We can them practice?"

Not recognizing half the words, Rmwtyliin shook Duncan awake, gave him a small grayish edible seed, and repeated the sentence. "I do not think I know enough to practice. You mean the language?"

"Alright." Kwa'a nodded and switched back to Bomic - or, more accurately, to Sharedspeak, a creole which had started out as Borksmiclen's lingua franca and, over centuries, had become the main language, spoken by all lower- and most middle-class persons. She also switched the subject. "Do you intend to bring something for the park?" (Neither thought that the event was that day.)

As her hand - much paler than Kwa'a's and with some yellow undertones - fiddled with the dark brown satin of the pink-sashed dress she had found in her closet, Rmwtyliin allowed her face to show uncertainty. Kwa'a was older than she was. Maybe she would have some insight. "There is a plant called an irka. It produces irka nuts, which are edible. It is native to..." Had she mentioned the name of her homeland? Perhaps she should avoid...

"To Fvaarniimar?"

Apparently that nut was already shelled. "Yes, to Fvaarnimar."

"It sounds as though it'll make a nice addition to the park." Pulling yet another piece of tan yarn from a pile by her chair, the Bomic started working it into the model. "You have the seed needed?"

"I do. But there is a problem." Rmwtyliin fingered one of the irkas in her pouch, shell giving slightly under a bit of pressure from her fingers. "No one who has tried can get them to grow outside Fvaarniimar. Someone might, though - you know Kale?" As usual, the name was drawn out.

"The name sounds familiar..." Kwa'a wasn't really sure who Kkaaallle was, but had a suspicion of what she might be and of why Rmwtyliin might be asking. She hoped, however, that she was being asked because she was an adult...rather than because the girl had guessed that Kwa'a also fit into that category.

"She... When it comes to plants... I am unsure 'spirit-touched' is the right term, but she can control them. And more. I think that if anyone can convince an irka to grow outside Fvaarnimar, she can... But... Well, last night Septimus Itum said not to treat others differently because they were..."

He had also expressed disapproval of a certain term. "Because they were, you know, different."

"This girl, Kale. Does she mind helping people out with her powers?"

"No, I do not believe she does. She helped me - you remember the lamps I made?" Kwa'a's sack was nearby; she took out her own. A little surprised, Rmwtyliin continued. "She had - a plant person, I guess? - collect the clay to seal them. It...he...uh...anyway, also helped dry them."

"Do you consider Kale a friend? Other than wanting to ask for help, do you treat her differently because of who she is?"

"...I have been treating her a little differently. I am still a little scared - those plants can get violent, and that kind of power... Less than a year ago I did not know that was possible. She is also older than I. I think...I might respect her more than a-" Apparently Rmwtyliin had picked up another English word from the meeting. "Mundane -"

"Who is my age. She is also a woman. I would respect a man less." Although perhaps not Septimus Itum or Ocho - Ocho in particular, given how strongly he had advocated a nonviolent approach. "Kale is an adult, although she is young enough so that I can interact with her rather comfortably. She is around my sister's age; that helps. I do consider her a friend."

"In that case, Rmwtyliin, go ahead and ask her."

"You really think I should?"

"Are there any things - mundane things - you are bad at?"

"Languages. I keep - kept having to ask for help. I needed some help with math, too - I asked Emm."

Figuring that she would learn who Emm was later, Kwa'a proceeded to make her point. "You asked Emm for help with math because Emm has different abilities than you, correct?" Rmwtyliin nodded, forehead scrunching up as she wondered where the woman was going with this. "That didn't seem like a problem to you - asking someone who you, I'm guessing, liked being around for help with something that their abilities made them good at helping you with?"

"It is not the same situation?" Rmwtyliin sounded as though she was starting to doubt that.

"Isn't it? The only real difference is what the ability was. Emm is good at math. Kale is good at making plants do what she wants them to do. Now, if you had taunted Emm because Emm was good at math, or tried to attack him, or to limit his rights, would that have been okay?"

"I did tease him a few times."

"Friendly teasing?" It was time to add accents to her model - with the end of a tan strand dangling out the back, Kwa'a grabbed a reddish-brown piece of yarn.

"I guess. Do you have siblings? He is - was - my brother."

"...I think that's alright. Siblings tease you - he teased you right back, I expect?"

"Of course he did!" Rmwtyliin smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes; she chuckled. "Teased me, pranked me..."

"Then don't worry about teasing. Consider my question again." The tan string tickled Kwa'a's exposed knee. "If you had taunted Emm, tried to attack him, or limited his rights because he was good at math, would that have been okay?"

"It certainly would not be!"

"Exactly. And I think that's what they don't want people doing - I don't think they want people to avoid making friendly requests for help. If you wanted to force Emm or Kale to help, that would be different, but I don't think that there's anything wrong with what you want to try."

As Kwa'a finished her bench model, Rmwtyliin sat quietly for awhile, thinking. Eventually, her thoughts turned elsewhere and it occurred to her that perhaps - given how talkative and open the woman seemed to be this morning - she could catch her guardian off guard. It would take a really good question...

Since the night she had arrived at the Building, she had suspected (correctly) that the woman knew how she herself, if not also Rmwtyliin, had arrived. "So, Kwa'a. If you do not speak the language of this place, why did you come here?"

"Well, I -" Almost outsmarted by someone a fraction of my age. She's still curious, and still suspicious about this. I'd better be very careful about what I say!

Rmwtyliin watched fear and - impossibly - amusement pass over Kwa'a's face. It took less than a second - Rmwtyliin wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been watching very, very closely - and then she continued.

"- Don't know." Rmwtyliin thought she saw some tells for lying, but couldn't be sure. "Why are you here? You don't speak the language either."

Red poop. She had been so close to actually getting an answer for a change. Then again, how her guardian had reacted to the question had also been informative.

"I don't know. Either."

Rmwtyliin had not been fooled, at least not completely. Luckily for her, Kwa'a was saved from formulating an answer by a sudden grumble from the girl's stomach.

"I think we should get some food - oh, no. I'm so sorry, I completely forgot about breakfast!!" She dropped her model onto the pile of yarn, which, as she'd anticipated, cushioned the fall.

Slinging her sack over her shoulder (perhaps she could accomplish some of that to-do list today) and rushing to the elevator, Kwa'a hit the button for the first floor/second story. The metal was cool under her fingertips. After grabbing a longish lavender strand of yarn from Kwa'a's pile, the grumpy, hungry Fvaarnimarn followed, twisting it into a simple bracelet as she did so.

The doors slid closed.

[Germanic Templars]

"Thank you, Sir."

Katya smiled. "I mean, I don't want to paint Bran as a bad guy. I just feel like I'm not very important right now, and I can't help but feel like every time I say something, I mess up, and that's starting to make our abhuman neighbors not like us. I don't know what I'm saying right now, really. I just think this entire fiasco is bringing us all to odds. Minerva and I snapping at each other, them supporting Septimus, I'm not, and I don't want people to think I'm against them. I mean, why would I be against my friends, who I spent three years with already, but god forbid I be skeptical of the shady guy who our shady "allies" support."

"Anyways, I'm glad you're satisfied. Will you be staying longer, or do you have business to attend to?"

Thriller nodded in agreement with Katya's statement on Septimus, the guy was a bit shady to him, then again, Thriller hardly trusted anyone in a political situation if never knew them.

Though talks of politics ended for him when he looked down at the "invisible" watch on his wrist and smiled as he looked at Katya, "I have some free time, besides the dog doesn't wake up til noon time anyway, so I don't have to worry til then. So yes, I think I can stay a little longer, unless you got something to do."

[Northwest Slobovia]

An alarm on Sandy's phone peeped at precisely 8am; he was taking inventory of the his and Amanda's pantry at the time. He turned part-way round to look over his shoulder at Amanda. She was sitting at the kitchen table, leaning forward to read the latest news on the large LCD she'd connected to her laptop. "Amanda dear, it's eight. Time to put the news needle away; you can get another hit after our lunch guests leave."

Amanda's gaze didn't flicker from the screen. "Strauss made our boy look good, and it doesn't look like any of the feeds picked up the ghost story. But nothing about the bombing either. Ask Minerva about that, would you?"

Sandy walked over the to table, sat down, and carefully leaned forward to rest his chin on the top of the LCD and look squarely at Amanda. "We still need a few things at the store. We don't have any garlic, and I don't think we have enough pasta for four people, even for a light lunch." Amanda looked up at Sandy's face, then back down at the screen. She read a few more lines of text, looked back up at Sandy, then back at the screen. Sandy went on: "You're a lawyer, dear, not a political advisor. Your client, Bruno Sweet, is dead. Rather conveniently, I might add. You were going to find out more about that after lunch... after we host a couple of guests. The news can wait. For all you know, Itum is sleeping off a hangover after a premature victory celebration."

The image of a plastered cyborg brought a grin to Amanda's face, and she pushed back from the table. "You're right, damn your sweet, lovable hide. Time to start playing responsible adult. What do we need?" Sandy reached over and gently pushed the screen on Amanda's laptop closed, putting the machine to sleep. "Well, I haven't checked everything yet..."

Ten minutes later, the Belas were in the hall, waiting for an elevator to take them down to the lobby. The elevator doors opened, and the Belas found themselves looking at Kwa'a and Rmwtyliin. Sandy looked at their faces; Kwa'a's triggered recognition. He spoke as he stepped into the elevator. "Oh, hello! You're... the woman who was also talking to Willow last night at the rally. Sorry, I didn't catch your name. I'm Sandy Bela, and this is my wife Amanda."

Amanda looked the woman and the girl over with a polite smile. "Hello, glad to meet you both." Amanda stole a glance at the elevator controls and pressed the lobby button before turning back to Kwa'a and Rmwtyliin.

[Torsiedelle]

"I don't really have anything else to do.", She said. "Except maybe go drinking, but this early? I wouldn't mind just walking down the halls. I doubt anyone much is up and about. It'd be nice, and who knows who I'd run into?"

Katya got up and stretched. Besides, can't stay cooped up all day, she thought. "I have a good feeling about it, anyway. So, walk?"

[Giovenith]

"If you really understand it, work to show it," she said. "Maybe they were being too harsh, but that's because..." Stop. Take a moment. Breathe. Be honest, not right. "... It's because you don't seem sorry you hurt, you seem sorry to be in trouble for it. Whenever something gets pointed out, you seem more eager to fight it off than you do to relate or correct. I want there to be more trust for people to know what they're talking about the first time, instead of dismissiveness. That is what you often feel like. Dismissive, not understanding, and eager to amend later rather than immediately."

It wasn't exactly a turn over, but it was a notable shift. Going in line with what she was told, Giovenith had swapped making statements about what happened and toward sharing reflections about how these things struck her. How she felt wasn't an absolute fact about the matter, but this is what it boiled to, she realized.

"You feel attacked..." she said in a gentler tone, lightly tapping Torii's shoulder before bringing it back to her own. "... and I feel dismissed. How can we make that better? I don't know." It wasn't the subject change asked for, but she didn't want to lose the moment like it had been lost before.

She took a handful of golf balls from her pocket and piled them into Drova's hand. Each had a monster face drawn on and, if watched, one might catch a blink from the eyes.

[Torsiedelle]

"Dismissive? I guess I do seem that way.", Torii nodded. "I guess I just don't want to let stuff drag on too long, because everyone seems to hold it over your head.", She said. "And I do feel attacked. I mean, you know how those..", She cut off. "I can't even talk about it unless it's in private, so I can't even say what I want to say, but...you know what, no."

She sighed. "Can I please let it all out later? In private? I'd like to just be able to voice how I feel all at once, and not have a bunch of people around to bitch at me for it. I need a friend."

Torii smiled. Gio didn't yell at her or walk off, acting all superior. It felt good that way. Torii gave her friend a little punch in the arm, before addressing Drova again. "We're just having me-talk. I want to just be able to hang out with friends for once without getting deep, so can we all do that? Me and kale and Tsu got along yesterday, never talked feeling or stuff like this. We're teenagers, we shouldn't be so mopey and dramatic all the time."

[The BranRiech]

Well, so much for getting words in.

Drova shrugged, mouth opening to speak when his hands were suddenly filled with small balls, white in coloration. He looked down, eyes panning over the small dimples covering the ball, like tiny craters in the moon, only much more uniform in appearance. Drova's eyes squinted, his glasses clearing up the squiggles and drawings. He chuckled at the faces drawn on the smooth balls, though the blinking was slightly offputting.

"How is it played?" He questioned further, though he didn't expect much with the other conversation taking place. It definitely didn't seem like his place to butt into the talk, and he was content on waiting for something to do. Taking his attention away from the golfballs, however, was Torii. He couldn't help but stare somewhat.

[Germanic Templars]

"I don't really have anything else to do.", She said. "Except maybe go drinking, but this early? I wouldn't mind just walking down the halls. I doubt anyone much is up and about. It'd be nice, and who knows who I'd run into?"

Katya got up and stretched. Besides, can't stay cooped up all day, she thought. "I have a good feeling about it, anyway. So, walk?"

"Walking sounds good to me." Thriller replied as he stood up. He stretched his arms over his head, standing on his toes; a yawn escaped him. Thriller felt as if his age was catching up to him, but how could it since his biological age was 24? To him he felt as if he was in his 60s with all of the popping of his joints. Never-the-less, he mentally shrugged it off as he walked to the door to hold it open. "Ladies first." He suggested with a smile.

[Giovenith]

"DADDY!" the balls all shrieked at once, suddenly flying up and rolling themselves across Drova's face. "DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY...!"

"Sure," Giovenith agreed. "But first, let's save Drova."

[Torsiedelle]

"Sounds good.", Torii nodded. Now, to save Drova from...balls.

Torii wasn't going to hold back. She jumped at Drova, nearly tackling him and laughing, grabbing the golf balls and trying not to die at how cute they were.

........

"What a gentleman.", Katya smiled. "Your wife is missing out, not being around. You know, you're not sensitive or uppity like some of the other guys around here, either. I like you.", She said. "Maybe you American men are misunderstood. Either that, or European men are just stuffy outside of Russia. Either way, our talk didn't turn into bubbly feelings or other drama. It's nice to just get thing said and be done with it sometimes, no?"

The little woman stepped out. "The halls are so empty these days. Hard to think that a year or two ago they were alive and loud."

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

"Been following my works since '92? Shit, you're a pre-digital follower." Byron had been in his apartment dressed in a fluffed black bathrobe. Just finished taking his morning shower, and was now setting about making himself some tea and buttered English muffins to start off the morning. It turned out Byron had run into someone who considered themselves a fan last night. The young (well, she looked about eight) Arkadacian he had traveled in a group with for the sake of safety the night previous, known as Adrisal. The two exchanged some contact information before parting when they reached the building, and Adri elected to speak with him via phone. He sat down on the edge of his bed and began eating.

"Yes, I have. Found one of your articles in a magazine in Turkey while I was wandering my way through that dreadful place. No idea how it got there, I think a tourist might've dropped it or something. Your writing is just so... deviously intelligent." Adri, in the meantime, had made herself an acquaintance with the Reil teen known as Elka, and in fact, was borrowing her phone to make the call, spending the morning in the teen's apartment. Elka was off brushing her teeth, and as such wasn't paying attention to the conversation.

"Well, that's a better response than the usual 'it's bleedin' horrible, kill yourself you filthy rodent', or 'you triggered me'. Nice to know there's a few actually intelligent people who read my tripe." He was on to a sip of tea now. On the bright side (quite literally) , the weather was fantastic outside. "Anyways, lass, I ought to be off. Certainly there's some pro-13 dick'ead I can swear at."

"Look forward to seeing it online." Adri hung up the phone and placed it on Elka's counter, leaning forward. She whistled casually, and Elka stepped out of the bathroom, looking slightly confused. "Were you on the phone with someone?"

"Not in the slightest. Anyways, I suggest you go out and enjoy yourself today. Surely you don't want to spend it huddling around people over three times your age for protection. That must get boring." Adri smiled lightly and nodded at Elka, delivering a short bow before leaving. The confused Reil watched her leave, her face going blank. "I thought she was a hyper sophisticated mutant six year old... odd."

And with that, the three Tinellians went along their merry ways. Byron to the lobby with his laptop to think of clever insults for pro-13 folks while he watched the news, waiting to hear some exceptionally stupid gems from them. Adri to check on her mission to make sure the place wasn't burnt down or attacked in the time she was gone (it didn't seem to be the case), and Elka to go out and try to meet up with other people who might be considered part of Public Works. It'd help if she had an inkling of an idea on what she'd be helping out with.

[The BranRiech]

If he wasn't already tossed back to the floor by the golfballs now assaulting his face, then the rough tackle from Torii certainly would. Pyersai, Torii, and balls all went flying back onto the carpeted floor, the balls still scurrying about the boy's face as Torii started grabbing them off. "I'm . . . I'm not your daddy!" He shouted, stuttering several times as he tried regaining balance, only to slip up and fall back to the floor, caught up in a strange mixture of confusion and laughter. "If this is how golf works, it sucks!" He chuckled, reaching a hand to his face to assist in the ball-removal effort, only to whap Torii in the shoulder.

[Giovenith]

"Nooooo, DADDYYYYYY!!" the balls screamed as they were torn away, loathe to be separated from the prince. Chuckling, Giovenith gently handed Torii a felt satchel.

"Sorry, wrong supply," she grinned. "You've got quite a knack for running into trouble with inanimate objects, don't you Drova?" Oh yes, Willow had told her about the toothbrush adventure, or at least what he knew of it, which wasn't much due to his relegation to tree damsel. "Are you two going to the festivities in the district today?"

[Germanic Templars]

"What a gentleman.", Katya smiled. "Your wife is missing out, not being around. You know, you're not sensitive or uppity like some of the other guys around here, either. I like you.", She said. "Maybe you American men are misunderstood. Either that, or European men are just stuffy outside of Russia. Either way, our talk didn't turn into bubbly feelings or other drama. It's nice to just get thing said and be done with it sometimes, no?"

The little woman stepped out. "The halls are so empty these days. Hard to think that a year or two ago they were alive and loud."

Thriller chuckled as he followed behind, "Well, having a foster mother there to teach me life lessons with women is quite the knowledge I use today, and lemme just say, mother knows best when it comes to attracting the opposite gender.... Or same, depends really, same can be said about men. Some men I know act like little kids while others are just assholes. Granted I am an asshole myself, but only because I treat others with respect and as my equal when I can."

Thriller glanced down both ends of the hall and nodded, "Agreed, these halls would be alive... With the sound of fighting raptors and doctors and people taking bets on the fight in the hallway... AT least that is how I remember it when I came to the apartment for the first time."

Thriller felt that it was best for a good change in topic for the time. He didn't know Katya that well, or anything about her for that matter, yet he still calls her a friend. Thriller looked at her and asked, "So, you know i am a curious man right? Maybe you could tell me a little about yourself, you seem to have an interesting background. "

[Torsiedelle]

"You seem to really have trouble with kids, Daddy.", Torii laughed. "I bet you won't pay child support, huh?"

She looked sideways at Gio and shrugged. I don't know. I wouldn't mind going out, but I hadn't planned on it much. Lemme just leave these potatoes in the kitchen for everyone and we can decide? It'd be good for us all to get outside before things go back to normal, eh?"

Torii gave Drova a whop on his shoulder in return and laughed again.


..........

"Oh, about me?"

Katya perked up again, but also felt humbled. When was the last time somebody actually asked about her?

"Well...", She held her hands together, walking along awkwardly. "Well, I'm twenty-one now, if you didn't know.", She said. "I was born in Stavropol, my nation's capitol, I'm an ethnic Russian, one-fourth German, since my grandpa served in the German Army in World War Two...um, I went to school in Stavropol, I didn't actually know Torii until I was eighteen, my blood type is O+, although I don't know why that's important, um, I like music -- I play classical and whatever, but I listen to pop, I like cooking, and I believe that the woman is the housekeeper in relationships, but that despite their duties, women are just as good as men, and can work if they wish. I'm a Christian, Eastern Orthodox, um...my birthday is the nineteenth of March, I'm fairly certain that I'm bisexual, because I'm attracted to men, but then there was my relationship with Dora...um...", She stopped rambling. "Anything else? I like to eat a lot, my favorite color is navy blue, and my favorite cars are Bentlys."

[Swith Witherward]

collab

Klaus chose to personally accompany their principle despite the risks. His word was his bond. He had promised to see John Banks to safety. Black jackboots made no sound as the trio plodded along utility tunnels. The man next to him was not so skilled in movement although the lizard scouting ahead of them made up for it with deadly stealth; she would pick off anyone long before they heard Banks’ approach. They pressed onward through the fusty and dark tunnels, relying solely upon Neste's skill and memory.

She was fatigued. That much was obvious to Klaus. Her strange had eyes reflected grim acceptance of the assignment when he first presented it. She would rather curl up in bed than traipse through brackish water, yet she had arrived after the town hall meeting with a compliant smile and muttered soft reassurances to the frightened former Minister.

An hour passed. Then another. A third slipped by. The path seemed endless. Klaus debated speaking up to question if the construct was lost, but then she paused and the men caught up with her.

“Tangerine,” her reptilian nose tapped against a narrow steel door recessed into the wall, and then she blinked at Klaus. “It goes to Hindustan.”

“Tangerine,” his face lit up with a smile. “I can honestly say I would never have found this.”

Neste’s ears perked and she shot a mischievous grin at him. “That’s because you are a god.”

The jab was nothing but a playful leftover from a prior conversation and the avatar received it with good humor. He knocked, the door cracked open, and Banks was ushered into absolute safety.

They remained there only a short while, ears perked to catch any indication that they’d been followed. Klaus suspected they’d left behind any unwelcomed shadows not long after they crossed into the old Nifid channels but it never hurt to be extra cautious in these matters. Satisfied that they remained in the clear, the pair departed at a run.

Seldom was it that Klaus could shed human pretenses to accomplish inhuman feats. In the dark, with only the lizard running silently beside him, he was at liberty to open up. They started at a trot that evolved into a flat out run, the lizard matching the god’s stride footfall by footfall although she maintained the lead while serving as his guide. It was uncanny and wholly refreshing to Klaus. The three-hour trek in was undone by a thirty minute race that ended once they crossed the Nifid demarcation point. It was only then that both creatures allowed their pace to slow. They would need to proceed more cautiously; Klaus doubted the shadows were still a viable safe retreat.

Silence and stealth became their tools once more as they pushed towards their objective. They only allowed themselves to breathe easily after they crossed into the blue zone and found the entrance to the pub.

“Ale?” Klaus rested his hand on the wooden door’s knob, “or would you like me to escort you home?”

The sun was still hours from rising. Neste gave the offer a few moments of thought. Sure, why not? Septimus was probably fast asleep and in no mood for conversation. As tired as she was, it would perhaps be good to better cement the working relationship between Nifid and the avatar.

“Alright, just one then,” she conceded while covering a soft yawn with her hand.

She soon found herself seated in what could only be described as a wartime German brew house replete with swastikas and patriotic flags. There was a picture of Hitler on the wall, but it had suffered a barrage of bullets and the frame’s remnants were clouded by a substance that carried the faint odor of piss. The bar itself was empty save for the Kraut playing an upright piano located near a stage. She took in the atmosphere and then turned concerned eyes towards her host. “Should I…?” she gestured to her body. Klaus waved off her concerns over her present form.

“No, no, my dear. Be comfortable. You’re a lovely human, but I see nothing wrong with sitting across the table from someone with scales and sharp teeth.” He rapped on the table’s wooden surface and the musical cultist ceased his efforts in order to bring them steins.

“This place is quaint,” she chuckled. “It feels rather authentic. Is this intentional on your part? I mean, it really does feel as if I’ve stepped back in time.”

Klaus laughed. “It is authentic. Every last bit of it was stolen away from time and brought here. It follows us wherever we go. Oh, it’s usually more lively than this, but most of my Men have been transferred to safer assignments, and we no longer have live entertainment.”

They drank in silence for a while, occasionally stretching a leg to ease tired muscles. Their beverages were half consumed before Klaus broke the stillness once more. “I’m overly curious. It’s perhaps my worst flaw. If you don’t mind me asking, what is with you and that old cyborg? Yours seems a strange relationship. Frankly, I can’t ever recall one of your people socializing outside your own species until now.”

Neste nearly choked on her ale. Of all the questions to suddenly spring from his mouth! She should have had the common decency to express shock or indignation but her fatigue had already prodded the soft spots in her brain.

“Mr. Klaus, do I ask you about Captain Blackwater?” her ears laid back against her head in mock outrage. She couldn’t stifle her smile, though. “Brother Itum is-“

What? They’d never really discussed it. Things just sort of happened, and had happened in a good way, too. To be fair, exhaustion was partially to blame, followed closely by Minerva’s sudden appearance and insistence that they report to the dining hall. It had been impossibly whirlwind-ish from that point forward and more attention was placed on the overarching needs of the mission rather on dalliances. Now she had a moment to think without the entire world pressing her, and she found herself uncontrollably blushing.

“--Is?” Klaus prompted. A Cheshire cat’s grin gradually shaped his mouth, making him look both frightening and comical at the same time.

“Brother Itum is my dearest friend,” her snout tipped upwards in dignified fashion.

“No, he’s not--“

“He most certainly is!”

Klaus laughed. “No, no, you misunderstand me, Miss Neste. I don’t mean to imply that he isn’t your friend. What I mean is that he seems more than a friend. You seem fond of him.”

“Well, I am rather fond of him,” she agreed, “But we’ve known each other a while. We met at a diplomatic event some time ago, and I suppose our personalities just clicked.”

The avatar parked his elbows on the table and rested his chin atop interlaced fingers. “Do tell!”

“What business is it of yours?” Neste’s eyebrow rose although her tone remained polite.

“Absolutely none. I’m just nosy.”

“You are indeed, Mr. Klaus!” The construct shook her head before going silent.

In truth, she wasn’t sure what they had. Now that she no longer had the mission pulling her in six directions, she could give the matter more thought. Neither of them had committed to anything. Was there even a term in either of their cultures which would properly define the nature of their relationship? She seriously doubted it. Yet she couldn’t help but feel a soft flutter in her chest now that she was thinking about him, and the multitude of colors swirling through it only intensified the moment she recalled his smile. Neste grappled with concepts, selecting and then tossing aside labels that either didn’t fit or sounded too mushy and trite. She reflected upon her previous thoughts in the shower, and the moments after it, and she summed up the entire strange experience with a few simple words. “I’m in love with him.”

“Love! I’ll drink to that!”

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” Neste sighed. “Love should never be taken lightly or treated in jest.”

The war god lifted his chin from its perch and lowered his arms. “I don’t treat it lightly, Miss Neste. It is the most powerful emotion an individual can experience. Love is priceless. Nothing in the universe can compare to it. It might surprise you to learn that it is my love for Minerva that gets me through the day, and not my cultists nor plots nor other Chaos-related nonsense.”

Minerva! Och! No doubt his beloved would awake from her death soon only to face two hungry children impatiently demanding their breakfast. Little Sophie would spill her juice as usual, and the baby would start to fuss once Minerva turned away to wipe up the mess. When the fuck did they become so domestic? It was only a few years ago that they were trying to slaughter each other.

“Miss Neste, a word of advice? Life is about to become very trying. Hold on to that emotion. It’s extraordinary. Nurture your relationship when you can, and rest assured in the strength of it when you’re apart.”

Quietly warbled hoots indicated the construct’s humor. “I don’t know what kind of relationship we have. Nothing officially. It’s just… us. Being us. Only closer. I honestly don’t have enough experience in this sort of thing to label it properly.”

“Label it? Labels cheapen,” Klaus wagged a finger at her. “Being us, only closer is possibly the nicest way anyone has ever put it. I like that concept.”

Neste blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, Mr. Klaus.”




They left the Ruins before the sun had given any thought towards properly rising, and soon construct and avatar were pushing aside fern fronds and branches as they emerged from the woods behind the Building. They were grimy and both of them seemed on the verge of exhaustion as they crossed the back garden, but neither was willing to admit it. Klaus held the back door for Neste, and they parted ways in the utility hall.

Neste checked her mail and traipsed upstairs to slip a note under Septimus’ door before descending into the Building’s bowels once more. It was Election Day - the first ever for the construct - but sleep took priority. She opened her apartment door expecting the usual wash of ozone and cat food only to find herself entering an empty room.

Well, not entirely empty. Her furniture was still shoved up against one wall. The very center of the room contained only one item – her nesting basket.

“Hello?” The echo was maddening.

Her first thought was that she had somehow run afoul of Rodney and he had found the means to evict her. But he wouldn’t dare, would he? She sprinted to the pantry door and tore it open to find… nothing but a pantry. An empty pantry. Someone had taken all the food.

“Hello?” Now she was panicked. Where was FUBAR? Where was the biogarden?

“Oh gods on springs, where the fuck is Brother Titus?! Scel! SCEL!”

The sleepy exo’s reply was nothing but thoughts and images moving at a blistering pace but Neste absorbed it and understood. Her lips curled in roguish appreciation of the obviously herculean undertaking pulled off by Drone and Nifid workhorses during the night. She giggled, and the giggle became a laugh which escalated into an uproarious cascade of hoots, whistles and sharp chirps. Those clever fiends!

She was still softly chuckling when she emerged from the shower shortly thereafter. Naked and weary, Neste pushed herself between the comforting blankets lining her basket. She curled into a ball and poked her snout tip out from the fabric pile. Nostrils twitched in one final titter before the lizard drifted off to sleep.

[Highfort]

The sound of scraping pierced the morning silence in the apartment as its cyborg owner spread a thin coating of butter over crisp, new toast. This was then followed by whistling as the kettle came to a boil and he poured himself a hot cup of tea. It was light, but without all his prior augmentations he hardly needed much beyond normal human capacity; he found himself far more engaged in the unfolding day ahead. Election Day would secure his position but it was only a temporary stay of execution: he had to act and act immediately to show that he was capable of running the city.

It was rather odd, almost lonely, plodding through breakfast without Neste, Sentia, or even his damned processor interrupting him. He was reminded of the chilly evenings and early dawns spent in the labs, pouring over data and occasionally indulging himself in a hot cup of tea in between hours of squinting at long strings of numbers on almost-transparent sheets of paper.

Following munching and slurping sounds, he rinsed off the dishes and set them out to dry before adjusting his uniform one last time and setting out to procure information about the city, its political background, and what he'd be facing in the coming days.

And for that there were only two individuals he was interested in: Ocho Ono and Amanda Bela. And while he'd had a little of the former's guidance the night before during the meeting, he'd yet to actually speak face-to-face with his associate, Mrs. Bela.

Boots clacked down the hallway with purpose before he paused and turned around, noting that he'd missed a slip of paper set near his door. Swiping the paper, he scanned it as he continued down the hallway to the lobby to determine Sandy and Amanda's apartment number.

Neste was inviting him for an afternoon meal and chat before he had to return to Bran's Workshop, now his Campaign Headquarters. How pleasant. He felt a little flutter as he folded the note and slipped it into a pocket within his robes, adjusting his scarf out of habit. He'd never been invited to a friendly lunch before.

6C. Excellent, a bit of walking up the stairs would get him active and ready for business in no time. Forgoing the elevator, he began his ascent with one goal in mind: determine exactly how Mrs. Bela felt about last night's performance.

Septimus found himself in front of the apartment's door. He knocked: "Mrs. Bela? It's Candidate Itum. May I come in?"

[Charlia]

"Oh, well, um, that sounds bad.", Jasmine nodded. "Sorry for your, um, loss. Does it bother you, being undead?"

"No, not really... it's not so far from being alive, except... well, I remember it all. And now I can go through things, or disappear... it's not that different, otherwise." She changed the subject, beginning to feel uncomfortable talking about her... state. "Are you going to that... park... thing today? I might go." Hopefully she takes up this topic. I don't want to keep talking about me being dead. Then she might start asking about why I don't just go tell someone who killed me... and some things I'd rather not have brought up.

[Monfrox]

Tema di Alice
Of all the days, this one was going to be special. Brit was making sure of it. After her birthday came and went a while back like all the other days that seemed to blur together, she finally was able to get a quick odd job in to make some money. It was nothing to live off of, nor did it last but a few days, but she had a small wad of cash in her wallet and now that she was 21, she was going to do something she always wanted to. Still, it was a bit somber for her. She hadn't really told anyone except for the occasional mentioning in the dining room, but she was fixing on getting a drink over at Chaos to celebrate her legality now.

With all the other characters of Brit's mind off in their rooms or eating at the dining room, she passed on out across the street to the place that had been the means of others hanging out all the time. For now, she was a one-girl party though. She walked in and took a seat at the bar counter, handing her driver's license over after asking for a shot of No. 7 whiskey. It was a weird thing, since her license was still her old one, but it did say "Under 21 until 04-27-15", and with that date now passed, the bartender could respectfully say that she was of age. Still, she was told to try and get a better ID to use next time, as this was only a one-time deal. Brit sighed and also asked for a Coke to go with her shot. As the two drinks slid over the counter to her, she couldn't help but just stare at them and think about home.

[Torsiedelle]

"Am I going to partake in the festivities?"

Hmm...Jasmine gave it a quick thought. She had already seen a bit of what the city had to offer, and it was decent. The people could have their fun, and where was all the danger? Today was a day of celebration, so the chances of running into danger was very slim, and even if they did? Then it was a merry day to fight.

"If I go, then I go, and if I don't, I don't, although I might be more inclined to go with company.", She said, followed by a soft laugh. Besides, these days, being able to move around without fear of the enemy is rare, it seems. One shouldn't ignore that kind of opportunity to relax. Having fun is good for the soul, keeps one from getting too cynical and mean! So, will you personally be going? I'm certain that some more residents of this building will be going, despite them being the cooped up types. It should be interesting."

She smiled again; It was going to be a jovial day.

[Charlia]

"Am I going to partake in the festivities?"

Hmm...Jasmine gave it a quick thought. She had already seen a bit of what the city had to offer, and it was decent. The people could have their fun, and where was all the danger? Today was a day of celebration, so the chances of running into danger was very slim, and even if they did? Then it was a merry day to fight.

"If I go, then I go, and if I don't, I don't, although I might be more inclined to go with company.", She said, followed by a soft laugh. Besides, these days, being able to move around without fear of the enemy is rare, it seems. One shouldn't ignore that kind of opportunity to relax. Having fun is good for the soul, keeps one from getting too cynical and mean! So, will you personally be going? I'm certain that some more residents of this building will be going, despite them being the cooped up types. It should be interesting."

She smiled again; It was going to be a jovial day.

"Yes, I plan to go. I'm hoping the candidate is going to be there; I want to speak with him about the events of last night. I feel as if he wanted to speak to me as well... I'm probably wrong of course, but nevertheless I shall be trying to talk to him. Last night was... interesting, to say the least, and I want to get his views on the matter."

[The BranRiech]

"Ugh . . ." Drova sighed as Gio made a reference to his last misadventure, where he was hurt quite bad when his wings were crushed. He'd managed to achieve what he was there for, but he definitely didn't get away unscathed, but since then, his wings had been healed.

"Well . . . I don't even know what Child-support is, but I can assume it means supporting a child?" He nodded, looking at Torii with a strange look. After the removal of the golf-balls, the Pyrsai stood up and dusted himself off, his wings shuffled as well, shaking in a sort of way as dust fell from them in a small, visible cloud. "Ah, so what are we doing today? I heard something about festivities today, and I thought I might see what's going on."

[The Carlisle]

Kale awoken without any strange dreams. The last couple nights have been good to her. Must have been the press conference that helped. For once in a long while, she felt hopeful. Maybe that set her mind at ease. She got up and did her normal routine. She had cereal and almond milk for breakfast, quickly eating that. Though, that was what she 'borrowed' from downstairs. The rest of her fridge was empty. She looked out her window, seeing the bustling market street outside. She had her plans for today.

Dressed in her usual getup and carrying a grocery bag, Kale set out to the market district for some food. Hopefully she would find all the vegan goods she needed for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

[Giovenith]

"Mauryyyyy!" Giovenith stuck out a tongue as she dropped the golf balls back into their bag, pulled the string shut, and stuffed it back into her pocket. "You'rd too young to worry about it for now, Drova. Anyway, you guys should go, a lot of people are setting up real neat things. I may or may not go myself, depending on the time I have."

--

Pressing the doorbell of the raptor home, Willow gave a glance to his watch. Only a little time to keep checking, he couldn't set things up while the crowd was about. He'd been foolish to wait till the very day, but still. A few more minutes, then he'd move on.

[Torsiedelle]

"That sounds likes a plan.", Jasmine nodded. "I, personally, don't want to meet the candidate. I want to see a performance, or maybe start my own, you know? Where there's fun and a little risk...eh?"

She hopped up and stretched, popping her back. Well, I'm just a wanderer, an entertainer and helper. If you lead, I'll follow!"

.....

"Yeah, it's another thing you'd probably not care about.", Torii said. "By the way...", She held out her plate again. "My sister made some potatoes for you guys. Wanna try? I was going to leave them in the kitchen. Oh, and Gio, you might not go? I mean, I know things are getting dangerous now, but look, there's all this festivity and fun! I mean, it's important to have fun, even during bad times. If you don't go with us, I'd at least give it a try with Marcus.", She snorted, teasing her friend. "I mean, he'll protect you just as good as I can, and you two can just be alone, eh?"