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

[The BranRiech]

"Well, I mean, we do have voting, but that's for more along the lines of local leaders." Drova kept along, the festivities in sight were truly dazzling to him, and the Prince didn't want to slow things down, so he kept on speaking as they walked. "The King gets to choose his own advisers and Generals, but the people get to elect their local representatives, who then vote on laws, but the King does have final say on everything, including the declaration of war and such." He nodded. Truth be told, the Pyersai had never really gone to war with anyone in their years of isolation in their subterranean home, and any conflicts that arose down there were always short-lived, considering the precarious situation the Pyersai lived in as a race. No one ever really wanted to fight when any conflict could mean the deaths of all the 1.8 Million of them left.

"I mean, we're more open in politics right now, but we've got the dreaded Communists right above us, so we still keep an Army." He nodded. "And sorry, I guess that got off topic fast." He smiled and shook his head. He too, was a little put-off by Torii's strong words, and grunted slightly. Was it that he simply wasn't used to someone being that blunt about things, or was Torii more passionate about politics than he had assumed?

[Torsiedelle]

"Your home sounds a lot like mine.", Torii told Drova. "Except replace the king with "Leader of the Military" and you got my country, and we're technically a Communist State still. It's a Confederation, so each Oblast, or province, has its politics and leaders, as well as militia, but every province answers ultimately to either Stavropol or Elista, our capitols, and private entities are regulated and kept in line by the government with support from our military. It's been that way since after World War Two, and private enterprise only became a thing in the last thirty years. Still, despite it being a Communist State, we're very nationalistic. The main ethnic groups are Russian, Turkic, Chinese, and Mongoloid, and our state religions are Orthodox Christianity and Buddhism -- Kalmykia is Europe's only Buddhist state, and it's one of my homeland's most prosperous provinces."

Something about her rambling perked her up. "You know, now that I look at all the red and gold, I'm kind of reminded of home, like on our national birthday, or Victory Day, when you see the old Russian parades and everyone gets out their Soviet stuff. It's pretty cool. You know, since Bran had kind of a big business here, I wonder if we can find anything related to his homeland, or any other Russian states. I'd love to find a babushka doll or an ushanka, since he always wears one. Ever wear an ushanka? They're super warm and comfy."

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Elka didn't have much money. Her parents wired some weekly, but it was a pittance, and most of it went to rent. Still... she did have a few dollars worth of change she picked up on her way to Bielefeld. "I'll be down there in a few. Just have to, eh... pretty myself up." She motioned to her absolute mess of a haircut, looking like she had just escaped from a wind tunnel. The Reil made her way to the elevator and slipped inside, going up to her room.

She quickly barged into the restroom and filled a cup with water before leaning over the sink and pouring it onto her head, flattening and straightening the poofy mess, at least for now. A few brushes later, and she looked presentable. On her way out, she grabbed a plastic water bottle from the refrigerator, and was in the lobby after about seven minutes.

"Sorry for the delay. Tried to fix the rat's nest on my head." Elka waved a hand at her hair, the pun deliberate, and stood behind Kwa'a and Rmytliin, ready to go.

[Giovenith]

"I think the country I'm named after has a queen," Giovenith added, which was followed by an conspicuous silence. Whereas Drova and Torii had gone into detailed explanations of the workings of their homelands, the godling seemed to not feel the need to, and turned her attention instead toward a little snack and trinket stand. "Souvenirs!" she cheered. It was a festival after all.

[The BranRiech]

"I think the country I'm named after has a queen," Giovenith added, which was followed by an conspicuous silence. Whereas Drova and Torii had gone into detailed explanations of the workings of their homelands, the godling seemed to not feel the need to, and turned her attention instead toward a little snack and trinket stand. "Souvenirs!" she cheered. It was a festival after all.

"There's an entire country named for you?" Drova's eyes widened slightly. His own nation really didn't have a name, but it was commonly referred to as the Pyersai Kingdom. He didn't mind the name, simply because it worked, but Drova could never really contemplate having a whole nation named after oneself.

He shrugged as Torii mentioned how similar their homelands were. He nodded, but silently disagreed with her. The military seemed much more important in Torii's nation than in his own, considering the latter's military existed purely for defense, and not the various day-to-day runnings of the state.

His head swiveled towards the souvenirs, and he quickly changed his direction, a small amount of money in his pocket.

[Giovenith]

"No, I'm named after the country," Giovenith corrected, raising an eyebrow as she tried on a soda drinking hat (she'd always wanted one!). She felt that it was kind of a 'due' moment for the prince, but decided not to be an ass and rub that in. "You know guys, regardless of what we believe in, the results of this vote is still something everyone in Bielefeld has to deal with, and it is kind of scary that we've been neglectful of the law process up until this point."

She didn't bother to ask them what they would do if the law passed, because she suspected it danced too close to their secret roles in fighting the ugly process that was going on around them. However, it was at least something that would make them think.

"I honestly didn't even realize that supernatural citizens mainly lived in this one district," she continued, dishing a few dollars to pay for the hat. "We've all lived here for how long? None of us actually know that much, and if we're going to live here, being ignorant of how Bielefeld works whether by ambivalence or active disapproval is going to be a fault on us. Maybe while we're here, we could look into learning a thing or two about local customs."

[Torsiedelle]

"Being named after a country? I always thought your name was unique, Gio. It's still a pretty name, though.", Torii smiled. She joined her friend in tinkering with the trinkets. A beer hat? They were pretty cool, but not the kind of thing that Torii liked. Now if they had a cool pocket knife or a thermos for coffee and chocolate? That'd be sweet.

"I know the vote will matter big time. Honestly, I just don't get it, though, why we're not citizens. While we may not have been citizens of Vaffleheim, we all fought and did so much, and Bielefield isn't Vaffleheim. It's a new state, and Vaffleheim wasn't even independent, but Bielefield is. I'd have assumed that when Bielefield was established, we were all given citizenship with everyone else. Seems kind of stupid to me, and why are we helping with a political campaign when we're technically foreign citizens still? Wouldn't that just be bad publicity for them? I'd think it would turn the nativist groups against us, probably more than they already were. I don't know, just ramblin'."

Oh, sweet, a thermos!

"I thought supernatural citizens were all spread out, like humans were.", Torii said. "Why the hell just stick in one area? Then again, that's common with immigrants from similar backgrounds. We have Chinese and Kazakh neighborhoods in my homeland. I'm still not a fan of this nation, but I guess after three years, I should know a little about the culture. Isn't it German? I mean, I know that this is at least a German nation."

[The BranRiech]

"Yuna did explain it to me." Drova nodded, regarding the importance of the vote. He hadn't even known what it was earlier, but considering that there was the chance that he might become a second-class citizen of sorts, the Prince simply wasn't going to let that happen. "She convinced me to vote this morning, when we woke up. She yakked my ear off for a good hour, but it all seemed important."

Perusing the wares of the small stand, Drova passed over a bunch of tacky souvenirs, though Gio's hat definitely made him chuckle.

[Primordial Luxa]

Brit felt her face get hot as she sheepishly walked over to the booth, but not before putting a 5 on the counter for payment. She held only the shot of whiskey as she approached the two. Her queasiness of gore and blood started setting in as she tried to not actively look over at Hollow too much.

"Hey, Arthur. Don't mind me much, eheh...I'm just hear for a quick first drink and then I'll be heading out in a bit."

Her face got hotter when Hollow asked how they knew each other. What a tale that was in and of itself. Still, even the most recent adventures couldn't be mentioned in public company. She decided to go with the obvious and most simple explanation.

"He's kinda like my therapist of sorts, I guess you could say that right?" She smiled over at him that seemed to scream "please help, I have no idea what I'm doing".

Hollow noticed her discomfort and after briefly pondering whether it was enjoyable she reached into the viscous life web and fished around with her mind to find a creature to tap into. It was easier to tap into creatures which were close by Hollow felt her typical languid self and so she probed into both her past meals and the amazon to take on the aspect of a sloth. It caused her insides to shift colors slightly and become less red and gory. Their was still the occasional organ and muscle patch but now their were also cut sloth faces and adorable tuffs of fur.

Hollow then turned to give her and odd look. "A therapist really?" that just raised further questions. What was so wrong with this Brit that she needed a doctor? Who in their right mind would go to a half raptor like this Dr. Arthur for mental advice? It looked like a lot of people judging by the way Arthur hadnt sparred money on his meal so he must have a lot of clients.

"Well I'm new in town so any additional acquaintance I am happy to make." She said each word rolling slowly out of her mouth

[The Carlisle]

"You sure you can carry all that?" the grocer said. "I'll be fine! You don't have to worry," said a certain little plant girl. Grasped in both of her arms were two large grocery bags piled to the top with various fruits and vegetables. The two bags created almost a wall, blocking her view besides a tiny crack between them.

With her groceries gotten, Kale started to walk off. She could see enough through the crack, and people tended to not get in her way. The market district was full of activity today, with all sorts of people arriving to shop and celebrate. Kale couldn't help but have her eyes wander around, looking at various things. This probably wasn't a good idea, as it cause a bit of an accident.

While looking at a rack of sunglasses near a vendor, she didn't notice Gio right in front of her, bumping into the girl.

[Germanic Templars]

"Oh, you haven't had breakfast?", Katya asked Thriller. "I always make ours nice and early, but I didn't cook much today. I wouldn't be against eating more, if you have a suggestion. Any excuse to eat is a good excuse.", She said.

She turned to Edge. "Probably not what you'd expect for a welcome back, but breakfast? We can discuss the current events in town, plan our own stuff, or just see what we can find out."

"Sure, I'm starving!" Edge's stomach growled and prompted a giggle from her. "Really hungry!" Edge's tail showed itself, zipped around the two, sniffing them before licking Thriller. "Aw! She likes you!"

"Well I guess we could take a quick stroll around town, see what other places it has to offer really. Unless Chaos sounds good." Thriller suggested. Unbeknownst to him the tail that moved around them. "Fuck!" Thriller moved his head away from the tail at first sight, startled by the surprise lick he didn't expect at first. Thriller glanced over at Edge, raising his eyebrow. Really? The only word he could sum up in his mind as looked back at the thing to observe it a bit more. "The hell."

[Giovenith]

"Why do we need to support Candidate Itum? Because you take what you get and work with it. Besides, there's nothing stopping us from signing up for citizenship later, and nobody is forcing us to stay in the country."

It was a quick and deliberate twist of words. Giovenith's heart had stopped for a moment when Torii mentioned supporting the campaign, fearing perhaps it had been a slip of information about the meetings, before recognizing how tame and easily slanted the phrase could be to any potential listeners if she responded right. The teen took it as proof of her own growing paranoia more than anything else, but decided it was better to be paranoid when people genuinely were out to get you than lax.

"But no, I do totally get where you're coming from about going from Vafflehelm to Bielefeld though, I'm with you on that one," she made clear as she chose a pink paper umbrella from the souvenir pile. "If Bielefeld was essentially built from the ground up because there was no way we could salvage Vafflehelm, a completely new land, then wouldn't everyone entering the country be a brand new citizen coming from the outside? We entered the country just the same, so it seems reasonable that that we would get the automatic citizen pass like everyone else, especially given at the time our help with the invasion was being celebrated; it's not like we were an oversight. I guess I sort of understand it from a paperwork perspective, possibly, but still."

She stopped and took a moment to take in the chatter of pedestrians and the of birds, letting the beautiful day have a moment of innocence before feeling a bump at her back. "Oh, hello Kale," she greeted.

[The Carlisle]

Kale being the worst of balance, stumbled back a few feet before getting control. She shuffled her bags a bit to see better. "Oh hi Gio!" she exclaimed. She looked a bit further to see Torii and Drova. "Oh hi guys!" she said as well, "You guys down here to celebrate and see the park? I was too! But I got a lot of groceries so I gotta put them away." She giggled a lot at that.

[Charlia]

Charlotte nipped over to one of the nearby stands and bought a hat--a fez, actually. Fezzes are cool.... hahaha. She put it on the ground and started to sing. The words felt as if they spoke to her, bringing tears to her eyes, lending a richness to her voice that was only brought by her sorrow and pain. Her past was a horrible tragedy, but it had given her something others often didn't have--an appreciation for life. So many took life for granted, but one like her--well, she never could.

[Fvaarniimar]

"A rat nested in your hair?! That's... Although creepy and gross ran through Rmwtyliin's mind, she settled on - "Unusual." After all, Duncan might be offended, even if it mainly was the ideas of rat poop and of claws on her scalp which made the girl less than comfortable with the notion.

Kwa'a had read a few pamphlets during the wait, and had concluded that the trolley would be the most expedient method of transportation.

The three arrived at the trolley stop right as the trolley itself arrived, by some fortunate coincidence. (Perhaps a teeny-tiny bit of the minuscule fraction of Kwa'a's power which was not originating from Borksmiclen had been used; more likely, the Bomic's handler simply wished to move on with shopping.) Soon, Kwa'a spotted Zinko's Fabrics. She intended to try to pick up some clothes at Tesco's, but she liked making garments. Maybe if she could buy a few off-the-shelf items which fit her ward, she could copy, roughly, the styling and size?

The trolley stopped and the little group exited, heading for the fabric store. "I thought... here first.
I make clothes, most."

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Elka forgot some things might get lost in translation. "Rat's nest is a phrase used to describe messy hair. I used it because, y'know... I look like a rodent. An intentional pun." The Reil followed the two as they went on their shopping trip, a small bit of cash in her pocket. From what she could gather from Kwa'as speech, they were going to get supplies to make clothes. That wasn't too out of the ordinary. Elka's usual garb was either scavenged from a would-be bandit that didn't survive a raid anyways or made at home as it was. She couldn't recall a time she ever bought her own clothes.

"Sounds fine and dandy to me."

[Torsiedelle]

"Yeah, I just can't help but feel like you all got screwed over on the citizenship part.", Torii said. "Hell, it's not even like everyone was always stuck inside. I think when I moved here, you all were all over the place, having fun and causing shenanigans. Made the place more lively."

Torii stopped to waved to kale. "Hey, speaking of supporting the candidate, I told Kale last night that I'm kind of skeptical of him, but I don't think he's the devil or anything. I'm not too big on politicians and government folk, is all. Anyways", she pointed to Kale's bags, "Hope that won't take long. It's a nice day, so you should have fun while you can."

..............

Katya looked a little surprised to see a tale. She just wasn't too use to the idea, since most of the residents didn't have them. It was kind of adorable, too.

"Cute.", She commented. "I'm glad, I guess. It's a nice little...thing."

She nodded in response to Thriller's suggestions. "I like Chaos, but I'd honestly be going there for a drink. Around town would sound nice, and give us an excuse to see the city. I know my sister planned to go out for a bit, which is kind of surprising. She always hangs around home, and never really goes outside unless it's playing guitar out front."

[The BranRiech]

Drova was somewhat put off by Gio's sudden turn into seriousness with the tone of her voice as she described the importance of voting for Septimus. Drova didn't really see the point in voting for a politician to represent a place that he didn't consider his true home, but all things considered, if he was able, he'd throw his vote for Itum. "I don't have any certain opinions on the candidate himself, though I will cast my vote for him if they let me vote in the first place." He nodded. He shook his head, hair brushing against his wings, as, once again, the boy rustled his shirt, still trying to get it to fit right.

"I don't feel unsafe out here, but if Yuna said that it's dangerous, then so be it."

[Cerillium]

Several people occupied boxes on Marcus' television screen. It was like looking at a row from Hollywood Squares but for the fact that none of the people were amusing and all of them seemed to bristle at each other. It was one of those round table discussions, minus the table, with the moderator unseen but certainly voiced by someone.

The first box contained the familiar face of none other than Briggs. The blue banner and white lettering under his image read, Dr. Stewart Briggs, professor of sociology and author of The Crimes Against Humanity. Marcus thought it was a crime someone hadn't stuffed his head into a toilet yet.

Box No. 2 was a woman supposedly representing the Market District Businesswomen of Bielefeld. Martha Boyle was an outright feminist shrew, eager to pounce on errors and just as swift to point out flaws. Marcus thought she was filled with piss and vinegar, and most of her rancor was especially reserved for Dr. Briggs.

The third was dominated by the head and shoulders of none other than Ocho. He had his own nifty banner, Ocho Ono Esq, Civil Right Attorney, Founder of the Extraordinary Beings Coalition. He had amused Marcus for nearly five whole minutes. The thade seemed fond of strawmen, not because strawmen were good in debate (they were annoying) but because the stupid professor scooped them up and ran with them, thereby getting further and further away from the topic at hand.


"...atypical beings with every right to exist," Ocho rumbled on. He seemed unperturbed by anything Briggs had to say. Marcus imaged he was a big duck and all of Niagara Falls rolled off his back. "We can not be held responsible for your teratophobia, Dr. Briggs. We are not monsters. We do not hide under beds nor lurk in closets.--"

"But you can't deny that--" Briggs cut in.

Ocho continued as if the man didn't exist. "The majority of us do not prey on humanity. I certainly don't. Are there creatures that do? Yes. Tigers. Wolves. Bears. Mundane things that man has every right to fear. Yet not all of mankind fears these things. Why? Because he's adapted. He's intelligent. He's learned that these things hunt when hungry. He's learned ways to avoid being eaten. But man instinctively fears predators or things which seem deadly. It's a primitive behavior sewn into his DNA. It's what kept mankind alive and thriving. Man has evolved since then. Man uses logic as a tool."

The Businesswoman cleared her throat. She was a weird variable, sometimes siding with Briggs and sometimes siding with Ocho. Mostly, she seemed to pitch her replies in a way which set up things for Ocho to favorably expand upon. Marcus wondered if the two had paired up beforehand just to take down Briggs.

"Mr. Ono," Boyle interjected, "do you honestly expect us to believe you, personally, wouldn't prey on a person? I mean, c'mon, why would nature give you sharp teeth and claws? You're twice the size of a human! Can you explain why any of us shouldn't be apprehensive around you, personally? Pardon me, but you're frightening."

Ocho tilted his head. It was all he could do to not laugh. "Madam, do most people fear otters? They have sharp teeth and their webbed feet are tipped with cruel little claws. Do you mean to tell me that a lost otter waddling down Main will send a crowd into a frenzied panic? 'Oh my god, an otter! Run for your lives!'"

"Of course not, but--" Briggs interrupted as Boyle offered an amused chuckle.

"Otters are cute little weasels. Thade are weasels. My species is one of the smallest in our ecosystem. We're considered fairly cute compared to everything else to be found there. We dig. We climb. We caper. We eat insects, fish and rodents. We squeak and dart into holes when predators swing by. We're the bottom of the food chain back home."

Briggs' sneer dripped venom. "You are not a cute little weasel."

"That's because you don't perceive me that way." Ocho's voice reminded Marcus of a kindly old grandfather explaining molecules and light scattering to a curious child. "Let me tell you, we had a devil of a time at the 1952 Berlin Symposium of Taxonomic Nomenclature. Half your scientists wanted to lump us with primates due to our thumbs. The other insisted we were carnivora, specifically mustelidae. They finally decided upon Primas Carnivorus to appease everyone, although we stand by our mustelidae heritage. Nowhere in youe nomenclature are we listed as Teras - Greek for "monster". I can understand if a person was galeophobic. Weasels frightened the hell out of them. But have some common sense, man. You're judging me on appearances rather then with any semblance of reason. You are pointing an alarmist finger at an otter and insisting that everyone be afraid."

"Weasels don't belong on Main!" Briggs snapped. "That's why we have animal control officers... and the USiPo.

"Don't you start that USiPo nonsense!" Boyle's mood shifted from smiles to brimstone. "If that weasel is sapient and has money and wants to purchase goods, the Market District Merchants will continue to consider it a patron. If that sapience weasel owns a business, it has our backing. The defining point is sapience, as I stated earlier. You'll have hell to pay if you call animal control on our patrons or fellow business owners!"

"He already does call them," the thade's snort clearly indicated his feelings on the matter. "He's filled his students' heads with speciest rhetoric and they're the ones who have been calling the police and USiPo whenever an Extraordinary Being shows their nose after dark."

Brigg's face turned an impressive shade of red. "THAT'S A LIE! YOU FILTHY ABHU-"

"Extraordinary Being," Ocho pursed his lips.

"ABHUMAN--" but he had lost his train of thought. "How dare you accuse me of speciest nonsense and--"

"Your book's dust jacket states that you're a proud speciest and the founder of the Humanity First oganisation," Ocho thundered.

"That's beside the point!"

"Gentlemen!" the Moderator's frustrated voice overpowered the other two. "We need to take a short break. Perhaps we can get back on topic when we return?"


Marcus washed his cereal bowl, chuckling as his imagination summoned up beast tamers storming the set and firing tufted tranquilizer darts into Briggs. The topic had been off topic most of the time. Marcus seriously doubted they'd get on topic and stay there for the program's remaining ten minutes. People didn't want to know about unions and worker's rights. They wanted to listen to Briggs and buy into his hatred. Or they wanted to see the alien on their screen and believe there was good behind the frightening appearances and strange powers. Marcus dearly hoped more people wanted the latter rather than the former.

The bowl clattered into the drainboard and Marcus draped a dishtowel over it. Chances were high that Giovenith had already gone out to see stuff and maybe partake of the Market District's festive generosity. He had an hour or two before they'd meet up at the Bela's apartment. The thought of it made his spine tingle. She was an extraordinary being, and not because she could use magic or understood dragons.

"And you're one too," he laughed at his reflection in the tiny foyer mirror before closing his apartment door behind him.

[Fvaarniimar]

"Periwinkle Plum," read the name next to the large by-the-meter fabric roll.  Kwa'a shook her head - since when were plums periwinkle?  Then again, perhaps they were here.  Taking a closer look, she saw a small virgule, and that the fabric was patterned with tiny stripes of the two colors...  So it was Periwinkle/Plum.  It wasn't quite as cheap as Kwa'a would have liked.  That was alright.  Deciding to get a yard, she spotted a velvet almost the exact hue of her skin and investigated. "Daring Morning Cocoa." She had to chuckle, and barely stifled an all-out giggle - that was worse than Periwinkle Plum without a slash.

Rmwtyliin, meanwhile, after having glanced at some yellow lace - It would have looked good on Emm - was oohing and ahhing over a lime-green organza.  "It is so pretty!  What do you think, Elka? Very light, delicate..."  She wanted to wrap it around herself and twirl, but, conscious of propriety, settled for draping the end over her arm.

Kwa'a quietly went to a different aisle.  She would buy a few meters of the organza her charge had fallen in love with - enough maybe for a scarf or sheer sleeveless shirt - but the bulk of the purchase would probably be what was labeled as cotton jersey knit.  She had seen many people wearing that fabric.  Perhaps doing so would help the two of them to blend in.  She poked it, messed with the loose end.  Besides that, it seemed lightweight and stretchy.  Perfect for warmer weather! Perhaps that was why everyone was wearing it.

  The fabric was one of the cheaper ones, too, and even by and large sensibly named. She decided to get most of the available hues and a few interesting patterns, with somewhat more of  the lime and gray - then, another fabric caught her eye.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Elka found herself staring at some off-grey fabric, an expression of 'not bad' painted on her face as she looked it over. She was darted out of her off-grey induced trance, hearing Liin speak to her. She looked over at the lime-green... thing, and smiled lightly. "It's, eh... colorful, I'd say. I'm not used to colorful..." Colorful. That was a weird word. It bounced around in her head before she forced it out, not wanting to be distracted by her own mumblings. A dark green and blue plaid design caught her attention, and she immediately picked up a strip of the fabric, looking it over. It conjured up some colorful memories.

Quite literally. About four years back, a traveller came to her town. A typical Arkadacian specimen. Tall, covered in fur, and had fangs that could probably carve statues. What stood out most about him was his dress. In the midst of the cold Reilish winter, when many huddled in parkas or stayed inside, he stood outdoors, dressed in nothing but a plaid kilt. Mind you, the colors were orange and black, representing some family allegiance or something, but she remembered talking to him.

Not regarding the contents underneath, of course, but would he wear that and nothing else?

He replied with a chuckle and a smile, saying that of course he felt the cold on him, but he felt it was a test of his strength to not complain about it.

Elka had no clue how that phrase was relevant. He left without incident and she never saw him since. The plaid pattern simply reminded her of him.

"I don't think I've asked you this, Liin, but... where are you from?"

[Fvaarniimar]

"I come from Fvaarniimar. It is...very different. There are not any people like you...Everyone looks pretty similar, at least to outsiders. A lot like me. Although my hair and eyes are lighter," Elka was a good listener, genuinely interested. Rmwtyliin found herself confiding in the girl. "Again, most outsiders would never notice. I have always wondered why. My mother said that the spirits intended it. I do not know, though - I have met a lot of people who are like spirits. They seem... So normal, when I talk to them." She blushed, a little embarrassed at how she had inadvertently spilled her guts.

Fortunately, Kwa'a wasn't listening. Tentatively, the woman reached out to stroke the fabric. A stretchy, slinky cranberry - but there was the Fvaarnimarn girl.  Then again, she could see it already...a lovely little dress, or skirt, or pants, or top. She would feel so young, so exciting and sexy in this! Pajamas maybe, although not showing it off seemed a shame.  Rmwtyliin didn't seem to like when other people wore red, but she had not complained.  Perhaps it was worth asking..."Would you be comfortable with my wearing this, Rmwtyliin?  It's one of my favorite colors and I really like the fabric."  She asked in Bomic, not wanting to take the chance that her English would get the point across.

The fabric looked, to Rmwtyliin, as though it had been dipped in blood.  She barely kept herself from flinching... But this woman had the right to wear what she pleased.  She had taken in Rmwtyliin when the girl had suddenly found herself orphaned, even though they certainly were not related closely enough for that to be an obligation. She was hiding things; so was Rmwtyliin. She was under no obligation to basically ask Rmwtyliin for permission to wear a color that she clearly loved. It was what she had worn when she arrived -

And not since. Rmwtyliin realized - Kwa'a had cut the color out of her wardrobe so that she, her ward, would be comfortable. If she said that she was not okay with it... She was almost certain that her guardian would put on a smile and walk away from the fabric. So Rmwtyliin put on her own smile. "Go ahead." She wasn't going to lie and say that she was comfortable with the fabric, but she could stand it. (And maybe she could leverage that into getting a few things she wanted. Probably not answers, but maybe the organza?)

Kwa'a's mouth made a little O of surprise. "You're sure?" And Rmwtyliin felt that she had done the right thing.

"Yes." If Rmwtyliin had previously only felt she had done the right thing, now she was sure that she had. The woman - who often looked sad - was absolutely beaming, and almost hugging the fabric. The girl grinned a little, too. "So, more about Fvaarnimar." Elka, after all, had not asked for Rmwtyliin's feelings, she had asked where she was from. "It is an island, with a few little islands where some people live. It is warm almost all the time except on mountaintops. There is not much violence - most people are friendly. A queen rules us - titled Fvaaviimkune." She hadn't let her guard down enough to admit that she typically used a different title with said queen - Mother. Thinking of family reminded her of something - she grabbed a spool of light pink ribbon and shoved it at Kwa'a, who had rejoined the pair after quickly grabbing some yarn.

"We need to get this."  The girl's expression dared Kwa'a to argue - and insinuated that to do so would be to cross a line.  Arguing was the last thing on Kwa'a's mind.  So many cute trims!  With a nod, she tossed in an assortment of ones which looked like they would last - as well as lime green, purple, and brown ribbons. Along with pink, those were the hues which her charge always wore. The fact that Rmwtyliin had improvised a bracelet of the hue which was missing that morning indicated that there might be more to it than personal preference. The girl, noticing, blinked. "Thanks."

The trims were pretty inexpensive. So were some fabrics. "Elka? Find something less... Three dollars." Kwa'a could spare a little, and, after learning she could get the red fabric, she was feeling generous. "I'll buy, make." Maybe if she tailored something for Elka, Rmwtyliin would be more comfortable with the idea.

Cart full of fabrics and a few by-the-meter trims, Kwa'a went up to the counter to have them cut. "Ten meters this red...Two - no, ten meters of this organza... Twenty these of two, ten of all the other knit jersey, four of this plum periwinkle flannel...Fifteen of this gold...string..."

Meanwhile, Rmwtyliin turned back to Elka. "You are pretty bright." The color of mourning - but outside Fvaarniimar, it was not. "Maybe that makes grays like that one look nice on you? So what fabric or trim are you going to get? Kwa'a did say you could get something...uh, pretty cheap."

[Primordial Luxa]

Robert Smith’s life was not where he wanted it to be right now. He had just walked out of another hospital interview this time for a cleanup maintenance position and had the same feeling of hollow disappointment which every other hospital interview seemed to leave him with. He had hope but his gut told him this was another legitimate job which he wouldn’t be getting. He had worked hard getting some basic medical training, he knew it wasn’t enough to make him a doctor or surgeon but he thought he would be good as a first responder or a medic or something. Anything legitimate would be better than what he was doing now.

On his way back home he found a man who looked like his usual clients standing outside of his apartment on the north east side of town. He was a trashy man who smelled of cleaning products and masking sanitization. It was obvious he had been in hospitals or nursing homes recently. Underneath it all was a rotten smell he was too familiar with. He introduce himself and gave an obviously fake name, his real one was written on the air tank which was sitting with but Robert didn’t read it. He gave a story which Robert had heard already. Lung cancer, chronic advantaged stages when he found out, no family, insurance wasn’t good enough, had already spent his retirement trying to stay alive. Robert immediately felt sorry for the man because of his tee-shirt which looked exactly like one which his friend Evan had worn. It was a dark blue shirt with the UK “Keep Calm” motto. Evan had been an orphan and the two of them had been friends since first grade. Turns our Evan had been living with a parasitic mold in his attic and died after Robert started college. It also was surprising that Robert was the only person who Evan trusted and had left him everything.

Now the man was begging for help having heard from a man at the hospital that Robert did “free advanced surgery” for those on hard times. Robert had heard this too, he had no idea how people kept finding out about him. Those of his patients who survived and were able to move usually ran out of the building vowing vengeance or raving mad. It seemed weird that people thought he was a surgeon, he was far from it.

He let the man into his complex and took him up to his room which was next to another cheap resident who he had never seen but who always played his music too loud. Right now Nirvana’s Smell’s Like Teen spirit was scaring the bugs away and causing the walls to shake. He asked him ten times on the way up if he was sure about doing this and warned that not even half of his patients lived. The man seemed alarmed at first that Robert was the guru he had thought but he pressed on, it was obvious he wanted to live. Robert took him into his room which smelled of febreze and those romantic candles they sold at the bath store and asked him one last time if he really didn’t have any other options.

[Tsuyoi Tekikoku]

Edge laughed at her friends reactions to her parasitic tail, it zipped around them before finally returning to her. "If you seen Tsu's wings before, she is like them, expect she's the source of my power and if she were to be cut, i'd not only lose my powers but she wouldn't grow back for weeks." Edge petted her tail as it returned. "It's certainly a fatal flaw for me, sense my tail is easily cut."

Edge smiled. "Now, let's go get breakfast!"

[Cerillium]

"This is madness, actually. Nothing herein makes sense, and that's why the culmination of all of it becomes almost reasonable on the surface. It's all the same. Insane. Don't you agree, Mr. Thaddeus?" Nila tilted her head and blinked at the old cyborg seated across from her. "But let me ask you this: What is greater than God yet more evil than Satan? The poor have it and the rich need it. If you eat it, you'll perish."

She poured out tea before setting the pot back on its pretty doily. "Answer that and you'll understand what's keeping this place running. Brother Titus knows the answer. His noggin's filled with it. And the efforts of all your selfish endeavors have left you with a heart containing the same. Oh now don't you scowl at me!"

Nila added two biscuits to Thaddeus' plate before unfolding her napkin to set in her lap. He was scowling indeed. Short on patience, and even shorter on time, he'd tolerated being summoned so early in the morning only because he was overly curious and unable to stop thinking about matters once the digital conversation came to an end. Now he sat across the table from a smallish version of Neste, surrounded by the bastardized amalgamation of two vastly different technologies, and blinking stupidly at his own reflection scowling back at him from a regen vat. That is, what little of it he could actually see, so festooned was it with flower garlands and lace-like vines. The vat's contents sparked the tea and riddles, and Thaddeus was (once again) regretting his choice to meddle in the fucked up affairs of the Nifid.

"I'll scowl at whomever or whatever I please," he interlaced his fingers, leaving the tea untouched. "You haven't answered my question."

"I just have," the small lizard smiled as she took a bite of her cookie. "But I suppose you want it plainly?"

The old cyborg grunted.

"Stop asking," Nila smiled at Thaddeus.

Thaddeus unlaced his fingers to massage a tender knot building at the base of his skull. Desperate times made for strange bedfellows. Itum and FUBAR seemed to tolerate the bullshit. He supposed he would as well. It wasn't as if he had many options if Ocho's predictions held true. Perhaps it was this knowledge that motivated the old cyborg to spend the morning assisting them.

"I'm not going to pretend I understand the exo's morbid fascination with the corpse," he jabbed a thumb towards Titus' vat. "I stay out of your business, you stay out of mine. No prying. Deal?"

"Okay," the lizard's snout bobbed.

He pushed away from the table and slung his maintenance bag's strap over a shoulder. Thick fingers plucked the biscuits from his plate to stuff them into a pocket. "Good day, Miss Nila. Give my regards to Miss Scel and Miss Buttons. And go vote, if you can. I intend to."

---

Tavana
The Klingon entered without a word but a nod in returned greeting. She wanted to ask if she had interrupted anything, though found the inquiry to be an excuse to not make good upon her visit. Such things were deceptive in its own right and Tavana was above such cowardice just because she was shy around the alien. The targling squealed at the sight of Nest'E, its focus and perhaps memory of the alien having won its affections rather than its own mother. The Klingon warrior could only smirk as its hind legs kicked at her stomach in attempt to gain traction. As she walked in, she noted its sparsity, but the austere nature of their species approved of the minimal furnishing. Tavana refrained from taking a seat on the couch, it looked too soft and was likely to dull the senses for being too comfortable.

"This little one is fond of you, NesT'E," Tavana commented with an amused tone, with her grip as iron clad as it had been on the targling and met her gaze upon the construct with a jagged tooth grin.

Holding the targling out, though it only motivated the creature more to escaping the clutch of her fingers, "A gift, from Mezran to you for fighting within our halls... and a personal thank you for standing with us. It is not much, but Mezran said you are more than welcome to visit anytime to share a bottle of bloodwine with him."

---

Guild Hall
Anais gave a warm smile and shook her head, she tugged at her blanket a little more, the weariness in her bones protested that she relieve herself and let Alexia or Traxt take over, but she had a role the others lacked, and so dutifully ignored her lingering fatigue. "Of course not, please come in. Erick, could you let Alexia know Minerva is here. We'll be in the wardroom."

Erick bowed his head and moved off silently, the sandals picked up a small wisp of dust in his wake and a knifing sound was but a whisper, his scythe in hand as he moved away. Anais gestured for Minerva to follow the dirt path that led into the main hall. Thick leaves blanketed each side and the smell of the earth, trees and the sound of a stream nearby made this place a home away from home. They past the main fountain and entered the open doors of the hall and Anais pointed to the room they would be in. It was spacious, with a wide table and enough seats to hold at least twenty. It now only held less than half the organization. There was a kettle and three cups already placed in here, likely the works of Reyna.

"Please, have a seat," Anais offered as she stripped of the blanket and draped it over her seat. She reached out and lined the cups quickly, taking the kettle next and poured. The vapors of the tea immediately told her it was a Krytan blend, something out of Traxt's collection, Anais guessed.

"We have other drinks if you prefer something more robust. Cherry can make quite the cup of coffee," the ritualist said just as Alexia walked into the room.

"Hello Minerva," Alexia greeted and nodded to Anais. The monk let her gaze last a moment longer upon her friend. The woman didn't look as weakened as she did the previous day, though her slow and economic movements as she placed the kettle down told the monk everything.

Looking back at Minerva, she took a seat opposite side of Anais. The ritualist spoke up as she took her cup of tea and wrapped cold hands around it, "Minerva has a matter to she'd discuss with us."

"Of course," Alexia nodded and turned her attention back to their guest, "If we can be of any help..."

Minerva had savored the fertile scents carried on the fresh air as the group moved through the Guild's courtyard. The setting wasn't unique. She shared similar accommodations with members of her own pantheon and found their own gardens lovely. This garden held its own special character however, and Minerva found it delightful and almost hated the notion of leaving it to conduct business. The exotic scent rising from her teacup more than made up for leaving it behind.

"Please don't put yourself through any trouble. I'm British. Tea is practically sacred," she closed her eyes and inhaled the Krytan blend's steam before stealing a sip from her cup. "Mm. This is delightful!"

Of course the afternoon wasn't meant to be squandered sampling exotic brews. Minerva cherished a second sip before getting down to business.

"I apologize for not visiting you sooner. It's been chaotic for me, no pun intended. I'm sure you've caught wind of the nonsense happening outside the Building's door? It's built over time but we've only recently become fully aware of just how deeply negative sentiments were running. It's left us scrambling, I'm embarrassed to say, but thank goodness we haven't been caught totally unaware. I'm here because I know very little about your group. The time is quickly coming where the good folk of this city and nation will desperately need all the help they can get. We'd all be very grateful for additional help. The question is, what can you do to help them, and in what ways can I help you?"