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

[Germanic Templars]

“I just got back today, i went to check on Tsu first, She’s sick like a dog with rabies.” She griped Thriller’s name firmly and shook it. Thriller..so does he lurk in the dark at midnight during a thrilling night?. Edge made a quick chuckle in her head, maybe she’ll try to tease Thriller with that. “Nice to meet you to, my real name isn’t Edge, it’s Vasilia Busujima, they call me Edge..because...well..um....”

Edge paused for a second to think, why do people exactly call her Edge?..It was odd that she doesn’t even know the answer to that, as far she could remember to the first time she was called “Edge”, was from a memory she could barely remember, she only saw Scarlet, her younger sister, back when they were like 10 and 9, they were in a forest from what she could see, but only heard “Edge” coming from her sister. “I actually don’t know why...they just call me Edge...I have a memory of the first i was called Edge...but...half of it is missing...lots of memories from when i was around 12 and younger are missing pieces and bits.”

"Eh, guess maybe having to deal with family or something, I dunno, but it I will say that it is a little easier to remember." Thriller admitted as he placed his hand back to his side. "Let me just commentate that you sure are quite the open book. Not like there is anything wrong with that, just.... Just something I wanted to point out."

Thriller slightly bit down on the inner portion of the bottom lip as he pondered, wondering if he can learn a little more about this person, more so to hear another story as to also gain information to build up on the profile records he has on each person in the building for his mech suit, after all, stealing records from the city was wrong, and with all of the stuff that goes on here, it would be near to impossible.

[Mincaldenteans]

Tavana & the Targling

"I do not see why I must be the one to present this mangy beast to the lizard," Tavana griped, her hands in constant motion as the targling struggled against her firm grip to escape. It squealed and kicked in futility as any tighter would have cut circulation off all its limbs. Her patience was wearing thin and the targling was looking more and more like food rather than a pet to bestow upon one of Mezran's companions.

"It's a debt paid, I do not see why I have to explain this. Again." Mezran growled at her.

"Then you pay it in person!"

"I'm not the one to call her 'creature' as though she was a thing to be repulsed by, Tavana! She fought honorably in your halls and I believe she would be receptive if you spoke to her as you did before you found out of our true identities."

Tavana rumbled in responses, the targling still attempting to escape her grasp. She clamped a hand around its snout gently in hopes to shut the creature from its whining. It only got louder. "Very well, I will see to NesT'e. Upon what floor is she?"

Mezran put his cup of raktijino down and walked out with Tavana to the elevator. She was not familiar with the building and NesT'e lived in the basement. The journey was a quiet one and once they exited into the lobby and made their way to the utility corridor, the Klingon left Tavana with the now quiet targling to present before the construct.

She glowered at Mezran one last time before finding the designated room. Taking the targling under one arm, she closed her left fist and knocked upon Neste's door.

--//\\--

Guild Hall

"What were you thinking! You could have had time to set the ritual up without extending your own life force!" Came the distant shriek that everyone else in the guild cleverly hid from. Cherry had been waiting all night for this moment and Anais looked none too surprise by the mesmer's outrage.

"I did what was necessary, you know there are risks to what I do." Anais said without apology. She didn't owe any explanation, her friend should have accepted that by now. Grenth would take care of her if her life was the price to be paid for aiding the helpless.

If only Cherry could understand. Instead the woman seethed where she stood and spat, "That was a foolish risk and you know it!"

The mesmer threw her hands up in frustration, she hadn't gotten anywhere with Anais since the ritualist woke up and what really got her angry was the serene attitude that radiated out of her. As though it was just another routine, a minor act. "It's going to cost you the longer that thing is out."

Anais' face darkened at the mention of it being called a 'thing'. That touched a nerve and Cherry zoned in to the reaction and continued, 'I will not see my friend lose years of her life over some ectoplastic Mists goo, you hear me Anais? Send it back to where you summoned it!"

"No."

"Dammit! By Lyssa I swear I'll march into that damn place you went and I will tear down every brick of that building-"

The doorbell rang, its sounded echoed through the halls of their home letting everyone know they had a visitor. Anais got up from her bed, wrapping the fur blanket around her and did her best not to lose her balance. Cherry had her eyes narrowed, searching for signs of weakness in Anais so that she may relegate the ritualist back to bed. When Anais just looked at her impassively, the mesmer gave up. "This isn't over," Cherry said firmly and walked out the door.

Anais sighed, the child would learn eventually, still too hotheaded for her own good. Talent and power, she had, patience and understanding the intricacies of the Mists and the gods they served were well beyond the Mesmer's scope, or concern. Putting one feet in front of the other, the ritualist dismissed all offers to answer the door in her stead; she was the guild's point of contact while Alexia busied herself with the rest of the guild's inner works - from training to archiving as much needed to be preserved if this reality was going to be their new home. Erick was the last, standing by the door with his hooded robes and folded hands in front of him. His weapon of choice was no where to be seen but she knew well enough that it was never far from reach.

She smiled at the young man, the only other person to understand their place in the guild and their lot in life. He bore a faint warm smile that made him look even more handsome, in her opinion, and she nodded in return. He stepped to one side, letting her know he would be here whether she wanted it or not, but not in the way. Opening the door, the interior of the apartment hall was a startling contrast to the natural beauty that was the guild's home.

"Minerva," Anais greeted with some surprise and a blink. She gestured for the woman to come in, careful not to let the blanket slide past her shoulders, "Please come in! Erick, this is Minerva Blackwater; Erick Dresner, a member of our guild."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Blackwater," Erick greeted, standing with his robed hands closed and bowed his head. The young holy warrior looked at Anais who only nodded in response.

Anais turned back to Minerva, "What brings you our way, Minerva?"

[Charlia]

"I think it's already started?"

Jasmine didn't know. Still, it was early. If it had begun, then they'd still be early enough to do some stuff before the crowds came in!

"Anyways, let's go, shall we? Don't want to miss the fun, and I have a feeling that I can get some money, too. I hate to brag, but my experience with fighting and running doesn't just translate into survival; I like to think of myself as a performer sometimes, yes? Then we can eat!"

"Yes, of course. Let's go then." As she stood, she nodded to Jasmine's last comments. "I'm a bit of a performer too--I sing, see. But if necessary I can do much more than that." But I doubt anyone would want to see what else I can do... ah, c'est la vie. Or, I suppose, c'est la mort.

[Giovenith]

"Alright!" Giovenith turned toward the door, but then stopped short when something occurred to her, turning back to face her friends. "Guys, I'm sorry, but we probably can't be transforming each other with the TF gun there. No causing chaos, low key and all." It was a bit late to say so, but better late than never and arrested. She wasn't sure how the two would react.

[The BranRiech]

"Alright!" Giovenith turned toward the door, but then stopped short when something occurred to her, turning back to face her friends. "Guys, I'm sorry, but we probably can't be transforming each other with the TF gun there. No causing chaos, low key and all." It was a bit late to say so, but better late than never and arrested. She wasn't sure how the two would react.

Drova spun around, confused at the sudden warning. While he had no stake in Torii using whatever kind of gun she was referring to, he still felt the warning to be at least awkward. "I thought she just wanted to bring it along so she could drop it off somewhere." He shrugged. "Something about the raptors, right, Torii?" He turned and looked back at the girl in question, the owner of the TF-gun.

[Cerillium]

Memorial Park was a pretty lady in maroon summer ribbons emblazoned with shield, wreath and lammergeyer. These fluttered and snapped in the morning breeze as a brass band played the national anthem and other patriotic songs. Here and there, strategically scattered to maximize exposure, vendors offered their free wares to the public. Balloon clusters of deepest red and gold nodded to bright faced children holding out their hands in anticipation of receiving their very own string. Pretzel and turkey leg promises hung wafted down park walking trails as well as spilled over the green grass boundaries to permeate the Market District. Election Day had arrived. It was the first since the Drone Invasion.

Nothing the city planned could compare to a small woodland area just off the western lawns however. It went unnoticed by the population at first. It might have been completely overlooked had someone missed a Frisbee catch. Here, nestled between the trees and apart from the nation’s festivities, a small grotto paid homage to a queen.

Greenery surrounded it yet there was a clear demarcation line spreading along the ground and up the very trunks of trees encroaching upon the scene. These woody sentinels formed the walls and part of the ceiling yet their inward facing planes were silvered from frost. Even the leaves had taken on a strange composition; each hung from stems like perfectly crafted crystal ornaments that tinkled and sparkled in the slightest breeze. Somber and brooding, the air within the ring held a wicked bite capable of delivery frostbite and hypothermia in less than a minute. The ground was thick with pristine snow; no creature, living or dead, could pass through the boundary save one: she for whom the gift was intended.

A table crafted of pure ice proudly thrust from the ground in the grotto’s center. Frolicking malks formed its pedestal, backs stretched and paws batting as they wound their way upwards to support the table’s top. Wintery sunlight settled upon its surface. It might one day contain a token or offering, once all the USiPO nonsense was done and life restored to normalcy, but it would remain bare for now.

Two men held quiet conversation in the shadow of a massive oak tree not far from the grotto.

“Summer is a simpering bitch,” said the taller of the pair. “I defy her and her equinox, and am glad of it.”

Klaus couldn’t help but smile as he looked upon his brother’s handiwork. “You defy more than summer, Fritz. What’s next? Casting your vote before breakfast?”

“Don’t be an ass. You know I’m not a citizen,” the god’s eyes twinkled. “Come. Let’s enjoy one last coffee before the maelstrom hits.”

“Will it be that bad?”

Fritz’s hand came to rest on Klaus’ shoulder. “There are many paths awaiting the end of the day. I can predict them all but I can’t predict which path they’ll actually choose. Branches are always troublesome. Let’s go.”

---

Meanwhile, a delivery boy caught up with Kale in the halls. The boquet he held out to her was lush and green and filled with the liveliest summer flowers. A crystal vase housed it. The scents shifted with each breath taken, sometimes cinnamon and spice, and sometimes glorious rose. One flower in particular stood out. Unknown in species and with petals that seemed to change color depending upon the light, this flower was the vase’s centerpiece. A generic card, presumably written by the florist staff, accompanied the gift. It read: ”Be cause. From Otto Von Klaus.”

“That flower doesn’t require water,” the delivery boy explained, “and the last petal will drop on Winter Solstice Eve. Don’t throw it away. It’ll sleep until the Eve of Spring Equinox and then bloom again.”

He departed to allow her to contemplate the gift in peace.

---

Ocho grunted as his thick fingers worked to type out an affirmative confirmation to Amanda. 1 PM fit nicely in his schedule. It allowed for some personal time as well as the opportunity for a light snack.

Right. One less thing to worry about today. He turned and loped down Main. Appointments are meant to be kept after all.

[Charlia]

Memorial Park was a pretty lady in maroon summer ribbons emblazoned with shield, wreath and lammergeyer. These fluttered and snapped in the morning breeze as a brass band played the national anthem and other patriotic songs. Here and there, strategically scattered to maximize exposure, vendors offered their free wares to the public. Balloon clusters of deepest red and gold nodded to bright faced children holding out their hands in anticipation of receiving their very own string. Pretzel and turkey leg promises hung wafted down park walking trails as well as spilled over the green grass boundaries to permeate the Market District. Election Day had arrived. It was the first since the Drone Invasion.

Nothing the city planned could compare to a small woodland area just off the western lawns however. It went unnoticed by the population at first. It might have been completely overlooked had someone missed a Frisbee catch. Here, nestled between the trees and apart from the nation’s festivities, a small grotto paid homage to a queen.

Greenery surrounded it yet there was a clear demarcation line spreading along the ground and up the very trunks of trees encroaching upon the scene. These woody sentinels formed the walls and part of the ceiling yet their inward facing planes were silvered from frost. Even the leaves had taken on a strange composition; each hung from stems like perfectly crafted crystal ornaments that tinkled and sparkled in the slightest breeze. Somber and brooding, the air within the ring held a wicked bite capable of delivery frostbite and hypothermia in less than a minute. The ground was thick with pristine snow; no creature, living or dead, could pass through the boundary save one: she for whom the gift was intended.

A table crafted of pure ice proudly thrust from the ground in the grotto’s center. Frolicking malks formed its pedestal, backs stretched and paws batting as they wound their way upwards to support the table’s top. Wintery sunlight settled upon its surface. It might one day contain a token or offering, once all the USiPO nonsense was done and life restored to normalcy, but it would remain bare for now.

Two men held quiet conversation in the shadow of a massive oak tree not far from the grotto.

“Summer is a simpering bitch,” said the taller of the pair. “I defy her and her equinox, and am glad of it.”

Klaus couldn’t help but smile as he looked upon his brother’s handiwork. “You defy more than summer, Fritz. What’s next? Casting your vote before breakfast?”

“Don’t be an ass. You know I’m not a citizen,” the god’s eyes twinkled. “Come. Let’s enjoy one last coffee before the maelstrom hits.”

“Will it be that bad?”

Fritz’s hand came to rest on Klaus’ shoulder. “There are many paths awaiting the end of the day. I can predict them all but I can’t predict which path they’ll actually choose. Branches are always troublesome. Let’s go.”

Charlotte had arrived at the park, looking around at the crowded areas. She didn't wish to deal with any of the people at the moment, so she slipped off to the side, seeking a place of solitude to collect her thoughts. She didn't know how many people would know who she was, and going out among them was risking exposure. She found herself in the area of the ring of cold, staring inside at the beauty of it all. Somebody had gone to a lot of trouble to organize this, she thought. Somebody cares a lot about whoever this was meant for. She felt the familiar sensation of a tear escaping her eye, and she caught it on her finger, gently moving it inside of the barrier of cold, making sure to keep her flesh--such as it may be called--out of the freezing air, watching it harden into a crystal drop of ice. She left it in the barrier--it would be her gift to whoever merited the shrine. The tear of a ghost, the ghost of a murdered girl who had once had so much to live for, taken away with hours and hours of pain and torture. The tear of a spirit girl who had known many and would know more. The tear of a lonely child who had lived too long. The tear of one who wished for love but feared she would never find it. The tear of a life of eternal, bitter winter, where the sun never shone through the clouds and all that was once beautiful withered, and died.

[Torsiedelle]

"I can admire how social she is, though.", Katya said to Thriller. "As for your nickname, I like it. Although I must say, it seems like you and your sister tend to forget things a lot. Remembering things is important, you know.", Her last words were directed at Edge.

"Still, I'm happy to see you back."

..........

"Oh yeah, right, because it would scare some poor assholes.", Torii sighed. "Oh well, I won't be taking the gun, then. I'll just do what I need to do later. So, will you two lead on? I'll just be putting this plate away."

.........

Charlotte's moping would have to wait for the other girl. Jasmine walked by, already planning a few different schemes. "Hey, why the long face at a festival? Now is when we can be merry - and make money. So, money, yes? Money buys us dinner, or it buys me dinner."

[Highfort]

Amanda's professionalism caught Septimus off-guard and he realized either that she wasn't interested in being friendly or he'd said something to offend her. Or both, really, but he hoped that his advisers weren't going to behave coldly toward him for the entire campaign. It was hard enough being a politician without fearing your allies as well as your enemies.

Taking a bag of strong, black tea, he began steeping the tea water in the kettle before glancing up at the lawyer with a slight frown, as was characteristic of him when he wasn't putting on a face for some public front or another. While he did want to be friendly, if that was not her intention then he wasn't going to waste his time or energy keeping up any pretenses. They were political allies and that was plenty enough for him to handle.

Leaning back in his chair to address her statements, the cyborg rubbed his palms together as his cybernetic eye recorded data on Mrs. Bela and filed it away for safekeeping and perusal at a later date - no sense in wasting a good opportunity to get to know his allies and opponents, in the unlikely off-chance she decided to support someone else. Charitable, especially in times of politics, he was not.

"Frame the discussion, yes," he rubbed the bridge of his nose before answering, "The Confederation can be divided, with a few exceptions, into a national and a localized government. I say localized in a relative sense, of course, the local governments ruled over planets and each was further sub-divided into provinces and states as is common in historical Terran governments."

Pausing, he poured himself a cup of tea and sipped, allowing Amanda to take in that first chunk of information. Following a few more sips and then a refilling of his teacup, he continued.

"Before I became Head Diplomat and dealt with other nations," he gestured with his hands as he sought memories from long ago, "I was, as mentioned, a liaison. As a Board Speaker, I relayed orders from the Board to the various planetary governments. These governments had democratically-elected officials: governors, mayors, representatives, senators - and naturally these individuals were interested in securing their positions at the next election. So much of what they did, though shortsighted, was to their benefit and I won't fault them for it."

"That's where the Board came in," Septimus' frown curved into a small smile as he recalled his early days under the tutelage of Brutus and Cato, back when he'd been considered a candidate with great potential, "We were appointed by our predecessors through a battery of tests and training - a form of meritocracy in theory, though sadly more of an oligarchy in practice. The Board took orders from no civilian and obeyed no higher authority than itself. Essentially, we steered the fates of over two dozen planets."

"So you'll understand my hesitance," he concluded, picking up his teacup for another drink, "With being selected as a representative. My experience as a Board Speaker is with negotiating with democrats as an outsider - I represented a dictatorship. Granted, Mrs. Bela, we were very enlightened and ruled with what I thought to be a soft hand. We gave the democratic governments their due and were willing to concede and negotiate with them. Ultimately, the Board and the planetary governors had a symbiotic rather than a parasitic relationship, so I do not hate democracy and I do not despise democrats. But at the end of the day, my experience is with guns at my side, not at my back. And that's what I fear: that my skills will be rendered impotent as a democrat."

[Charlia]

Charlotte's moping would have to wait for the other girl. Jasmine walked by, already planning a few different schemes. "Hey, why the long face at a festival? Now is when we can be merry - and make money. So, money, yes? Money buys us dinner, or it buys me dinner."

"Yes, money. So what, precisely, do you do as a performer?" I mainly just know depressing songs... I hope that won't cause any trouble. Some people don't like sad songs... but they're all I know. Days Ahead, Tormented Heart, et cetera... oh, yes, and ghost songs. Oh, and Better in Stereo. I can't believe other people don't classify that as depressing--but then, not everyone has had a dual life like I have. That black voice in my head... the half that drives me crazy, indeed. Oh, hush, child, we both know I'm the better half here. You wish. I know. We could help each other, you know. You certainly need help. Well, except for that. If you would just listen to me, maybe we could do things right. You wish. You really think if I listened to you things would be better? Of course. If you listened to me, you'd still be alive. What? That's... that's crossing the line. If it weren't for him, I'd be alive. You do not blame me for my death, there was nothing I could have done! Trust nobody, I said. And ignore the basic human need for company? You could have at least brought a gun with you wherever you went. Yeah, like that would have gone over well. I don't even know how to shoot a gun! You could have learned. Look. You crossed the line. And you will never use my murder to hurt me again.

[The Carlisle]

Kale was dumbstruck by the surprise gift and mesmerized by its beauty. She knew all kinds of flowers, their smells and colors. But she never saw the color changing one. She didn't even know it existed! She stood their for a few seconds staring at it while she moved her hand to change the light level, changing its color. Fascinating....

She looked at the card, surprised by the gifter. Klaus?? She didn't expect a gift from him. After what the two had been through, her intro to him. She still didn't have good sentiments about the man, being a bit heavyhanded. But... was this making up for it? To settle things? Well... It certainly worked! Kale nearly flipped her opinion of him. Looks like he is kind and responsible!

Kale waved a goodbye as the delivery man left and then rushed back upstairs, but being as careful as possible to not drop it. She didn't drop it, making it to her room and setting it on the kitchen island. She refilled some water in the vase, then remembered the main one didn't need it. Her face beamed, an idea popping in her head. She took the color changing flower and placed it in her hand, resting it over her left ear and securing it. She moved about in front of her wall mirror, watching as the flower changed with the light. It was perfect.

With that done, she set back out to go shopping. She was skipping down the halls, happy as can be. No doubt she will surprise her friends with this. In fact, she'll go see them after shopping. Maybe they'll be down at the memorial park today? No doubt they will. She'll go there afterwards to check (and see the trees).

[The BranRiech]

"I wouldn't mind waiting, but if you insist." Nodded the Pyersai Prince, catching himself messing with his shirt again. He'd worn the loose-fitting v-neck shirt on the insistence of Yuna (He was suspecting it might even just be one of her shirts). The infernal shirt wouldn't sit right with him, hanging off to one side or something of the sort. He sighed as he finally got it just right in his eyes. He had to admit, the color was quite beautiful as well, the fabric's dye being more of a turquoise-green.

"We could go, Gio, meet Torii outside?"

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Building, Going Down

"I don't know if she actually needs protection. She's a spirit. She might be able to protect herself."
[...]
"Now -" she switched to English. "Most importantly, I think..." In Sharedspeak, she asked, "Please continue with what you were saying?" Rmwtyliin, having by that time abandoned all pretense of being more interested in her bracelet (now on her wrist) than in the conversation, nodded.

Sandy listened as the Babel Rat translated for Kwa'a. It was a curious way of communicating, but was much clearer than making out the girl's broken English himself.

"I was going to say that the most important thing is that she being a spirit is probably more of a danger to her than she realizes. If she has supernatural abilities, and she uses them in public, she's likely to draw the attention of USiPo, and some of them are far more dangerous than an angry mob. I have no idea if she does, or what they might be, but somebody should tell her."

"Charlotte seems a bit incautious. Her question to Itum implied she wasn't merely human, which she should have guessed wasn't such a good thing, given what the other speakers had already said. But then to admit that she was ... a ghost, a spirit, or something of the sort, was simply reckless. Fortunately, the news didn't pick that up, so the information is probably safe. I'm willing to give her a little help, since I've been in over my head before, but other people may not want to deal with a girl who could get them into trouble. If you see her today, give her my name; I'm in apartment 6C, and I'll chat with her."

Sandy shifted his posture as he thought about Kwa'a's last point; he ended up standing a bit more casually. "I'm not sure we should say anything more about Charlotte in public. It may be best to let sleeping dogs lie: if the general public doesn't know anything about her -- and apparently they don't -- they can't hunt her down. It may be a question for the Public Works group to answer; I can refer it to them."

The Building, Apartment 6C

"So you'll understand my hesitance," he concluded, picking up his teacup for another drink, "With being selected as a representative. My experience as a Board Speaker is with negotiating with democrats as an outsider - I represented a dictatorship. Granted, Mrs. Bela, we were very enlightened and ruled with what I thought to be a soft hand. We gave the democratic governments their due and were willing to concede and negotiate with them. Ultimately, the Board and the planetary governors had a symbiotic rather than a parasitic relationship, so I do not hate democracy and I do not despise democrats. But at the end of the day, my experience is with guns at my side, not at my back. And that's what I fear: that my skills will be rendered impotent as a democrat."

Amanda listened to Septimus' introduction closely, then straightened up in her seat so she could pull her smartphone out of her pants pocket. She took some notes as Septimus talked, though she mostly watched him as he spoke; politely focused interest was part of the routine client interview process. She was used to hearing tales of dire criminal accusations or contractual agreements gone wrong, but to a great extent, what Clausewitz said about war applied to law equally well. It was just politics by other means, and changing from law to politics was just a matter of adjusting to different rules of the game.

When Septimus admitted he was part of an oligarchy, Amanda's eyes lept up from her notes to his face; it was a surprising admission. As Septimus began to conclude his overview, his flat statement that he represented a dictatorship brought a hint of a smile to her face; by the time he was done, she was smiling warmly at him.

"Straightforwardly saying that you where part of an oligarchy is refreshingly sincere. Where I'm from, dictatorships and juntas go to great lengths to pretend they are anything else. They claim to be 'legitimate representatives of the will of the people', or 'democratic revolutionaries', or some similar evasion."

Amanda took a big swallow of her coffee, and she prepared to summarize Septimus' story. "Let me make sure I have this straight: you are or were a member of the ruling oligarchy of the Confederation, a federalized interstellar state. Local governments in the Confederation are democratically elected, and you regarded the heads of these governments as short-sighted, and -- dare I say it -- a bit venal. Nevertheless, you were willing to work with them, and feel -- or felt -- that the overall structure of the Confederation government is desirable."

"You're used to ruling from a position of power, and are unsure of how effective you'll be as the Market District's Representative. Do I have that correctly?"

Amanda waited for confirmation before she went on, a bit of her previous warmth returning. "I think I can put your mind partly at ease about working within a democracy. What citizens and their representatives want is usually very open: citizens are very vocal about making their demands known, and representatives typically have to adopt public positions as a result. Of course, there's always some skulduggery and political maneuvering, but the nature of democratic government tends to push it into the open. In this world, oligarchic regimes are much more typically known for infighting and intrigue than are democratic ones. Perhaps, though, your civilization has overcome this difficulty with oligarchy, and the Board functions civilly and transparently, and this isn't a concern you're used to dealing with."

"Democracies are form of meritocracy, though I can see that they might not appear that way from the outside. What the voters regard as 'merit' occasionally shifts, and sometimes they themselves aren't sure what they want from their elected officials. However, can say that voters do favor representatives that make good their promises, and deliver effective and beneficial policies."

"I do have some questions, since I'm not clear on a few things. Are you still a member of the Board, or one of their official representatives -- you mentioned being Head Diplomat -- or do you represent them as a private citizen?" Amanda couldn't fathom a reason somebody would willingly give up oligarchic power, but what did she know of Septimus or the Confederation? It struck her as she spoke that Septimus must be a legal citizen of Bielefeld to hold public office, but since the city was used to dealing with expatriates, perhaps they were willing to grant dual citizenship to members of foreign governments. That would be unheard of on her Earth, but this city was nothing like any government back home.

She waited for answers, then went to her next question. "Are there formal diplomatic relations between the Confederation and the City of Bielefeld? And if there are, could you summarize the relationship between the two governments?"

There she paused. What she asked next would depend on those answers, and he was curious to know what his answers would be.

[Giovenith]

Leading the way, Giovenith charged on ahead out the front door, patting her pockets to go through a mental checklist of things they might need in a quick fix. She took a deep breath, reassuring herself to do away with lingering anxieties; go out, stay low, back before dark, and everything would be alright. Like any young person Giovenith put her full trust in the elders around her, perhaps a little too much, to sort everything out so long as she worked hard to do her part.

"Daylights a wasting," she announced, breathing the fresh summer air. This was near Most High Celestia's day, was it not? She thought Willow had told her. "Lets live it while we can, I have a little time." Thus, she made her way expecting the others to follow.

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

"I can admire how social she is, though.", Katya said to Thriller. "As for your nickname, I like it. Although I must say, it seems like you and your sister tend to forget things a lot. Remembering things is important, you know.", Her last words were directed at Edge.

"Still, I'm happy to see you back."

"Im also quite the fighter!" She nudge Katya in the side. "Ain't that right~? Remember? All the times i kicked your butt in the little fights we had~?" She chuckled before bursting out into laughter. "I'd like to spare again with you sometime!"

She turned to Thriller. " Hey quick question, didn't you use to wear a big ol suit of armor before?"

[Torsiedelle]

"What do I do?"

Jasmine grinned. "Well, I think it'd be easier to show you than it would to tell you. Just, may I ask, can you grab me some boards? Perhaps someone threw a few away? A cinderblock or two as well.", She said. "Trust me, you'll like what you see."

......

Torii took just a minute to put her sister's plate up, leaving a hastily scribbled note for the other teens, and then she was on her way.

She caught up quickly to Drova and Gio, still happy and ready for an adventure. "So, I think there are some cool things to see in the Market District. Not a fan of the colors though, but I'm not a Bielefielder.", She said, waving her hand a little. "I still love my country."

........

Katya turned her head aside, looking just a bit embarrassed. "Yes, I remember our fights. I could never beat you...and at least you can forgive people afterwards.", She said.

[The BranRiech]

"Yuna did inform me that we shouldn't be out after dark, so it makes sense to use the day while we can." Drova nodded, reaching back to scratch a small patch of feathers on his left wing, wincing slightly as he felt the itch coming on. He sighed happily though, as he was suddenly relieved. He stepped up his pace, putting a slight bounce to his step as Gio started charging ahead, though he stopped for a moment to open the door for Torii.

"And I suppose . . . I think Yuna said there was some kind of festival."

[Highfort]

Septimus nodded at Amanda's summary. She was surprisingly open-minded about the Confederation's form of government for an outsider with a democratic background. Usually the accusations came after the admission of being a member of an oligarchy - he didn't even get a chance to confess his war crimes. Still, given her legal background, being truthful was probably the best idea if he wanted her assistance.

"Yes, that's correct," he replied, pouring himself another cup of tea before visibly relaxing in the chair, the tension melting away as he realized she wasn't about to kill him for what he did, "From the Board to mere representative is quite a ways to go."

Her explanation of democracies was met with polite nods and quiet affirmations. Though he didn't share her preferences for democracy as a form of meritocracy, the dusty tomes of Terran history recorded at the back of his brain told him otherwise. Democracy was the most solid choice for Terra - it symbolized self-determination and, for many, rationalism. Though that was hardly how it turned out in reality, with bigotry and corruption churning in the system, he could hardly fault Terra's people for supporting it.

As the lawyer asked several more questions, he sat quiet as he contemplated exactly how to answer without mentioning his shortfalls before deciding that she had a right to know as one of his legal advisers. If he was in hot water, she should know to provide the best legal counsel for him.

"The Board has banished me from government positions due to an... incident on the planet Dyste," he set down the teacup and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, "Long story short, people got hurt..."

He paused, "And died..."

"And it was political suicide to leave me there," he concluded, quietly, "I now represent the Confederation, as you mentioned, as a private citizen. They don't know I'm here and I doubt they would care if I ran for office if they did know. As far to my knowledge, they want nothing to do with me, so they shouldn't prove any impediment to my activities here on Terra. That is, if they can even find me - I'm not sure I'm even in the same dimension anymore..."

Adjusting his robes, his voice returned and he added, "Since we might not be in the same dimension, given that Bielefield does not exist on the Confederation's records of Terra, most likely there are no formal diplomatic relations between it and the City of Bielefield. Hopefully, this will smooth any legal issues with me acting as the Market District's Representative."

[Germanic Templars]

"Why yes I use to.. And I still do during convenient times. In fact, while here I have my old mech suit here, you know, the eight foot tall suit? Only problem is that I do not have M.A.I nor D.A.I or N.A.I..... All are A.Is... So yes I have people in my head when in the main mech suit." Thriller admitted, though now he is self admitting he has told a bit too much. Granted, nothing too serious as to pass it off with a mental shrug and a reminder to self.

Thriller felt the gurgling in his stomach, a subtle reminder that he needed to eat, and as much as Katya and Edge were having fun catching up with each other, he felt a bit obligated to ask them."Now then, how about we continue our talks over breakfast, i'm buying.

[Fvaarniimar]

The woman, who appeared to be in her thirties despite being a hundred times that age, nodded, about to open her mouth - but Rmwtyliin was speaking. Kwa'a's forehead wrinkled for a few moments; she then took a piece of slightly crumpled newsprint and a pen out of her sack.

"I apologize. I encouraged her to ask her question. I did say that there might be additional options if she was not comfortable doing so, such as talking later... But she was unsure if she should ask then, and I did not tell her that she should not." Ashamed, the Naaliiasz had slumped; her gaze was directed towards the floor. Abruptly she stood tall, tilting her head to look Sandy in the eye. "I made a mistake in assessing the situation. I am sorry. I know that I can probably help Charlotte less than Kwa'a-" as usual, Rmwtyliin pronounced the name with an ah sound - "Can, but tell me if I can do anything."

Once satisfied that her charge had finished, Kwa'a added her own thoughts. It was frustrating for her, having her offer of help basically ignored when - it seemed - no one other than them would be willing to help much, but perhaps it was for the best. Sandy had had reasons, after all, for setting her other suggestion aside. (She was so, so glad that he had.)

Maybe the most help she could give would be to get Charlotte in touch with Sandy. But just in case... "Maybe I should give you my number, both cell phone and apartment. I understand that you probably don't need it, but that way, if so, you'll have it."

She handed him the piece of paper, now reading Kwa'a Bhewehg, Apartmint 9C. The mentioned phone number was on the opposite side. "I really would like to help. Anyway, I'm alright at understanding English. It's putting it -" Arriving at the second story, the elevator dinged. "I'll probably be better off texting -" Rmwtyliin, of all people, thought to push the first-floor button again. Kwa'a - trying to make the most of that extra time - spoke faster, although with frequent pauses to encourage Duncan to not wait until she had finished. "You should be able to understand without Duncan. Thanks, and I'll tell Charlotte if I see her!"

With that, Kwa'a ran out of the elevator. After some seconds she looked back to make sure the child had followed; Rmwtyliin had in fact followed, but was a ways behind her guardian owing to the fact that she'd remained in the elevator while Duncan had finished translating. Although Kwa'a was unaware of that, she was responsible for the girl; she slowed her pace. Not wanting to run - it might be thought rude - Rmwtyliin didn't catch up to Kwa'a until after the latter had reached the communal kitchen. The woman, poaching a few eggs, turned around.

"I thought we should do something a little distracting today, and we really do need to go shopping..."

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Another day, another... why was she thinking of that line? That was stupid.

Elka walked into the communal dining room, her eyes half-open. Being woken up about three hours earlier than you're used to will do that to you. She regretted going outside at all. She regretted leaving home, at all. At least at home if there was the risk of being killed, it was by your own species and they'd do it quickly. At least at home, you could shoot the people trying to kill you because everyone else in your town was doing the same thing.

Here, the place was RUN by the people trying to kill you. She let the thoughts wash over her, and as she poured some milk into a bowl of a cereal shaped like miniature bombs, with 100% of your daily value of sugar, she heard a few voices she didn't recognize behind her. The Reil turned around and gave the two an acknowledging nod before sitting down. "Good morning..." She lazily mumbled out. If there were a 'teenage behavior' detector of sorts, it would be going through the roof.

[Swith Witherward]

Neste's eyes danced behind their lids, and an ear stroked the soft material covering her head. It was such a lovely dream. She was home again. True home, and not some witherward. The great market sprawling in front of her beckoned and she floated down the path. She wasn't alone, however. Septimus had tagged along as well as, of all people, Klaus. The trio had already visited a library and had just settled down for a proper meal when the fern outside her apartment door interrupted to say that someone was standing outside.

"Mmrph," the nostrils twitched slightly before clamping shut. Their owner's internal clock indicated that only a few hours had passed since she'd retired for bed. Neste contemplated feigning absence.

The person outside wouldn't hear of such a thing. The knock was proof of Someone's existence, and ignoring them would be extremely impolite. The lizard breathed a sigh and extracted herself from her basket's delicious warmth.

"Yes, alright, be right there!"

Neste tugged on her clothing and opened the door to find a Klingon on the welcome mat. The unhappily restrained targling in Tavana's arms brought laughter to the lizard's lips. "Good morning, Tavana. Please come in. I'll put on some tea."

She gestured to her apartment's almost empty interior. The couches remained pushed against the far wall. Sunlight filtered in from a window encased back garden. "Pardon the state of this place. My roommate decided to move things around while I was gone."




"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Dresner," Minerva politely replied as she stepped through the door and found herself in a new world.

It was a rather lovely arrangement, and it took the cultist leader by surprise. Demens must have had much fun setting this apartment up, not that he ever refused a challenge. She decided on the spot that she liked the place.

"It's good to see you again, Anais," she added. "I'm here on official business, actually, one group to another. I hope it's not too early? I'm not interrupting your meditations or breakfast?"

[Charlia]

"What do I do?"

Jasmine grinned. "Well, I think it'd be easier to show you than it would to tell you. Just, may I ask, can you grab me some boards? Perhaps someone threw a few away? A cinderblock or two as well.", She said. "Trust me, you'll like what you see."

Charlotte did as she asked, finding a few in some--unconventional places that she could access more easily than others due to her unique nature. What's she going to do? She set her load on the ground next to Jasmine, nodding. "Here you go. What do you want these for?"

[Fvaarniimar]

Noticing that Rmwtyliin had a mouthful of peanut butter, Kwa'a took a sip of juice and answered. "Good morning." Repeating the greeting was simple enough. Very independent ordinarily, she didn't want to rely on her charge's interpreter - who, once again, had fallen asleep. She continued in English.

"Very good food. You're resident? I'm Kwa'a." She avoided the obvious question; while this girl was clearly not human, it might be more polite to let her state that fact for herself.

Rmwtyliin finished chewing; about to wake Duncan, she recognized the introduction as such and decided to use her very small English vocabulary. "I Rmwtyliin." To help clarify what she meant, the girl pointed to herself. "Hi." Some motion caught her eye - Kwa'a was giving a small nod of approval.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Elka nodded lightly as she made her way through the cereal, figuring she might as well not make a big scene out of making a long chain of 'good mornings' and 'hellos'. It seemed the two didn't speak fantastic English, but it was still very much legible. Besides, that'd be hypocritical as hell. Elka's accent was so stereotypically Reilish she might as well be wearing a fur hat, crashing tanks into houses, and perpetually holding vodka in her hands.

"Yep, I'm a resident. Nice to meet you, Kwa'a." Now she tried to think. Where the heck were these two from? Kwa'a sounded vaguely Southeast Asian to her, though Rmwtyliin sounded... Welsh. Was it? Damn, she felt awkward. "Good morning to you, Rimitillin." Elka widened her eyes and pursed her lips, completely butchering the girl's name. Smooth sailing, like riding a wooden raft into a waterfall. "I'm Elka, it's good to meet you two."