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

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Giovenith
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Posts: 19522
Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Wed Aug 19, 2015 7:18 pm

A sniff here and a face rub there, and Giovenith's once-still form stirred and sat up with a squeaky yawn. Awake now already, how long had it been? Apparently enough, if her mental clock had decided to wake her now. Leaning back against her pillow she tried to gauge how many hours she'd gotten based on her memories, but quickly found herself instead drinking up flashbacks of waking from Zalgo, the tech-priests' singing, and mostly the kiss. Oh jeeze. Time to be a little careful, no need to get deathly lovesick; as she'd repeated for about the hundredth time now, there was still a lot to still take on here in Bielefeld. This was the Observatory after all, Giovenith didn't want to wind up embarrassing Marcus either (though Brother Adrastus hadn't seemed to mind the two terribly).

Cracking some stiff joints, she slipped back on her leg warmers and sneakers and slipped out the door, keeping to the wall in case some priests needed to walk or rush by without interference. The daughter of Pearlelei had been taught to always try and be on her best behavior when in places specifically dedicated to other deities, even if you were an invited guest, since like Marcus suggested it was always a little confusing about what was and wasn't irreverence to either of one the gods. For Giovenith it was easy, she wasn't really old enough to be offended by "blasphemy" (though she had her rare instinctual moments), but there was no point in her risking it on the Machine God.

After a short while of trying to guess her way around, she came to the area she assumed was the kitchen (not as easy to tell without lots of people around).
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"Gio has said "fuck you" a few times prior in this chat.
At her phone, at a friend over the letter x, at poe's law,
at me once, at NA once, at pokemon a lot, at people
who do not like polishing rocks, at god, and I stopped
reading after page one of search results but there's two more"
—Ever-Wandering Souls

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Torsiedelle
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Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Wed Aug 19, 2015 7:34 pm

9:00 AM, and yet breakfast still hadn't been made. Torii stirred awake and let out a long yawn. Five hours of sleep was better than nothing, for sure, and she did feel much better than she had when she went to sleep. Noticing that Drova was still with her made her feel pretty awkward, and happy. She turned to see what else was happening, in time to see her sister stumble in, half-naked and rubbing her head.

"Damnit, what happened?", She asked. Her vision was still blurry.

"Oh, good morning-"

"Morning. Listen, I'm going to shower and try to get over this fucking headache. Cocaine is a hell of a drug. Don't ask. Let me make some coffee first...", She stumbled over to the counter. She began to put on a pot and rub her eyes to see better. "I saw you and your friend last night. I thought it was Yuna, but are you hanging out with a boy? You little tease."

Torii blushed. Katya continued. "I'm going to take a shower."

As Katya stepped into the bathroom, Torii continued to lay there, thinking about the Zalgofest.
Last edited by Torsiedelle on Wed Aug 19, 2015 7:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The BranRiech
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Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Wed Aug 19, 2015 9:39 pm

Missing the entire interaction between Katya and her sister, of whom he was currently snuggled up to. His arms had spent most of the past night and early morning wrapped around his crush, and they still were at this attempt to keep his crush close. Even in his sleep, the Prince was reluctant to let Torii go.

Stirring somewhat, and his arms interlocked around Torii's midsection, he pulled her closer as he woke up, mumbling something in his drowsy state.

"M-morning." He whispered, shaking his head against the pillow he was rested against, white hair splayed out to one side. "A-ah . . . Sorry." Drova shook his head one last time, moving his arms back to his sides, blushing. "I-I should leave?" He offered.

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Torsiedelle
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Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Wed Aug 19, 2015 10:02 pm

"Mmm? Oh, no, It's fine.", Torii said, catching her breath. "I don't mind it. I do the same thing to my sister sometimes, since we sleep in this bed.", She said. "Actually, since you're up why don't you join us for breakfast or something?", She asked. She thought it would help the awkwardness.

She hopped up and scooted to the edge of the bed. "And now that you're awake, and my sister is in the shower, I can listen to my music.", She said. "Do you enjoy rock?"
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The BranRiech
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Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Thu Aug 20, 2015 9:07 am

Torsiedelle wrote:"Mmm? Oh, no, It's fine.", Torii said, catching her breath. "I don't mind it. I do the same thing to my sister sometimes, since we sleep in this bed.", She said. "Actually, since you're up why don't you join us for breakfast or something?", She asked. She thought it would help the awkwardness.

She hopped up and scooted to the edge of the bed. "And now that you're awake, and my sister is in the shower, I can listen to my music.", She said. "Do you enjoy rock?"

He felt so exposed! Drova was at least used to being seen in this state by Yuna, but really, no one else had ever seen him in bed, or asleep for that matter. Drova watched as the girl scooted up to the edge of the bed, still holding the covers over himself, tightly gripping them 'till he could gauge Torii's reaction. "I would appreciate some food, and hospitality." He nodded curtly to her request that he stay for breakfast.

Gently folding the covers over his knees, the Prince sat up and arched his back, letting a few loose bones pop back into place, his wings stretching out, brushing against the wall behind him. "And to tell the truth, I've never really bothered with listening to human music, what's Rock?" Drova asked as he slid off the bed, landing on his feet.

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Fvaarniimar
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Founded: Nov 20, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Fvaarniimar » Thu Aug 20, 2015 1:48 pm

Kwa'a often slept facing the large window in her bedroom. Normally the curtains - a gauzy material the color of a cloudless sky in autumn - were left open to admit as much sunshine as possible.

After the Zalgofest, however, Kwa'a (realizing that she would like a little more sleep than she would get if the sunlight were to wake her) had closed those curtains, and had moved her pillows to the other end of her blankets. Light brown flyaways frizzed out over dark gray bedding; behind closed gray eyes, in Kwa'a's gray matter, a mostly-monochrome scene took place.

This chamber of the caves was 193 paces, measured roughly north or south from the entrance. There was little light here (two tiny shafts to the outside for ventilation.) Any shadows were pitch black; much of the cave was shadows.

She knew every step of this chamber, and of others. 24 steps from where she stood was a ledge like a table; underneath it were simple provisions, ones which would keep on their own even in the cool damp. She knew that it was uncertain when she next could leave the cave. 98 steps in the direction exactly between her left and front while her right side touched that ledge would bring her to the concealed door to her bedchamber...

She knew all this, but paced back and forth, back and forth in the darkness until finally


She woke. Although the woman normally faced her window, this morning her first sight was a painting of Giovenith's, tinted blue by the light coming through her drapes. She smiled, and (after using the bathroom) walked to her kitchen to fix some breakfast, bare toes first sinking into gray carpets, then cooled by bumpy, polished stones. She had gotten around to getting groceries the previous day... Hadn't she? Her memory felt a little fuzzy - likely the alcohol or... Well, whatever mind-altering substance it had been... Zal something? Regardless, Kwa'a checked and found that the pantry, refrigerator, and freezer were stocked with foods she enjoyed; happily, she measured some ground coffee into the gleaming coffeemaker and set about fixing herself some breakfast.
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Northwest Slobovia
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Founded: Sep 16, 2006
Anarchy

Postby Northwest Slobovia » Thu Aug 20, 2015 2:16 pm

Giovenith wrote:After a short while of trying to guess her way around, she came to the area she assumed was the kitchen (not as easy to tell without lots of people around).

Sandy closed the cupboard he'd been digging around in, triumphantly pulling out a large ceramic mug. As he swung the door shut, he saw Giovenith enter. "Ah, good morning, Giovenith! I should have guessed that not all the Observatory's guests would keep monastic time."

Sandy reopened the cupboard and fetched another mug. "A little breakfast?" Sandy gestured with full hands toward the table where he'd set down last night's Times, and started walking towards it. "I've only been here for a couple of minutes. I thought I'd have the place to myself, while I read the paper and tried to figure out what I should do today. There's so many things that need doing, and many others that could be done. But, please, join me. Company is always welcome."
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Giovenith
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Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Thu Aug 20, 2015 6:27 pm

"Oooo, of course!" Giovenith smiled and nodded. She was still feeling a little groggy, and figured that breakfast was the easiest way to get fully awake. Sitting down, she pulled a small package of cookies from her pocket. "Have we heard any news since it was announced 13 was shot down? I know there must have been celebrations, but those move on and new things are discussed."
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"Gio has said "fuck you" a few times prior in this chat.
At her phone, at a friend over the letter x, at poe's law,
at me once, at NA once, at pokemon a lot, at people
who do not like polishing rocks, at god, and I stopped
reading after page one of search results but there's two more"
—Ever-Wandering Souls

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Swith Witherward
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Posts: 30302
Founded: Feb 11, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Swith Witherward » Thu Aug 20, 2015 9:29 pm

Roused from blissful dreams by Septimus' gentle touch, Neste's toes splayed as she stretched against him. She sleepily regarded him through half-lidded eyes, and the corners of her mouth drifted back to offer a smile to her lover.

"You're welcome," she nuzzled his cheek before lifting a hand to gingerly brush her fingertips through his hair. "Although I'm not sure of what I've done to earn your gratitude."

He has a job to do, she reminded herself, as do I. As deeply as she desired to be selfish and beg him to stay in bed, he had responsibilities. She was loath to remind him however. There was breakfast to make and enjoy, and news to catch up on. Nobody was expecting government offices to function well the morning after a Zalgofest. And this was their moment. They had discarded their physical barriers. It was an entirely new experience for her, and one that she was delighting in.

The morning sunshine captured his silvery strands, causing them to stand out against their darker companions, and Neste sighed. His body no longer reflected the sum of his lifespan but he was still as endearing as when he was old and dependent upon machinery to exist from day to day.

A blush rose to the lizard's cheeks as her thoughts drifted towards the memory of their activities earlier that morning. She laid her palm against a whiskery cheek that had been stung by the back of her hand only a few hours prior. "Septimus, bedroom games are enjoyable, but I'd rather not remain in that dominant position. I can't bring bring myself to lash out at you or to belittle you, apart from the bedroom romps, if you understand what I mean. I have always looked to you for guidance. You aren't perfect, and you make mistakes, and yet you don't give up. Your patience with me has always inspired me to likewise keep going."
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Highfort
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Posts: 2869
Founded: May 11, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Highfort » Thu Aug 20, 2015 11:08 pm

Septimus met the lizard's gaze as Neste spoke of how he inspired her, and he couldn't help but inwardly cringe at the notion. She was far too attached to him, he realized, her independence was crushed beneath an admiration for him as not only a lover but a mentor and a friend. Such an issue would have to be resolved if she was to ever achieve true independence. The thought of how this would end pained him but he put it out of his mind. They would deal with that when the time was right - for now, she had a breakfast to cook and they both had news to catch up on before he moved into his office later that day and addressed the problem of the Public Works Committee and his role in it.

"It would benefit you, I think, to find a better person for guidance," he chuckled as he savored the palm on his cheek before gently grasping at it and pulling it down so he could feel her hand against his own as he sat up properly and surveyed the room, bits of tape, fliers, and bumper stickers left strewn everywhere from their early-morning romp, "If you're lucky, you'll never have to lash out at me; but I'm a politician and sometimes things don't end up on the straight and narrow as I'd like. Sometimes, I do need a good lashing - and not the bedroom kind."

Letting the construct's hand slip from his own, the cyborg rolled off the bed before standing up to crack his back and knuckles, stretching to rouse his senses as the morning sun bathed him in a soft warmth. Moving to pick up the tape littering the floor, he added softly, "You stayed, Neste. Thank you for staying."

As he cleaned the room, dumping the bits of trash and stray, torn hair into the little bin in the corner, Septimus contemplated what he had to cover for the day. The usual logistical items for moving into a new workplace would have to be handled - setting up his office, meeting the staff, talking with his fellow representatives to get a feel for the location, and so forth - but after that he still had to confer with the Public Works Committee since he had called for a meeting a few days prior. He was in no shape to run the committee with his new position and, in any case, the media would find it suspicious that a supposedly-charitable committee was having its finances and activities managed by an active politician. He didn't need that sort of heat on him only a day into his new career.

As the final scraps made their way into the trash can, Septimus noted with a sniff that he reeked of chemical adhesive and of the ever-intoxicating scent of Neste, which some would crassly refer to as the smell of sex. He needed a proper shower.

Grabbing a towel and a change of clothes - a polo and slacks, befitting his new office-bound position as representative - he turned to take in Neste's nude form one last time before making his way toward the bathroom, "You owe me breakfast, Ms. Trilb. At the rate this is going I'll be owing you a hell of a lot for all these favors you're doing me."
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Tiltjuice
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Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Fri Aug 21, 2015 2:10 am

Warpspace wrote:an awesome post


Perhaps the sight of a redhaired woman wasn't the ideal, given the traditional portrayal of Judas in European culture; but that image would be as anachronistic to the knight as the knight was to Bielefeld itself.

Dora had stayed up all night, and Marcus had been kind enough to show her to the tunnel back to the Building, giving her the same caution as he had the healers earlier. Her fatigue sapped her, not having Chrys' zip. The long, long walk ahead of her, however, had its intended effect in clearing her head. The length of the passage gave her time to think. That she did in the silence left by her attempts at conversation with the young cyborg. His uncertainty clashed with her own assurance. Yet was it true poise, - or solely the veneer of such, conferred by the years she'd lived?

He's so bright, there's no need to darken that. Let him live the life he was meant to.

And so she'd spoken to him as warmly as she knew how. "'Yes, ma'am,'" he'd said, to acknowledge most all of her comments. To which she'd replied, naturally, "Marcus, you can call me Dora."

And he had swallowed, quite unobtrusively, and addressed her so formally again. She'd let it go after that, not knowing quite how to break through his shell.

Dealing with those younger than yourself is harder than it looks, isn't it? You know the answer to that one - but it's a drastic step.

"No matter when I was, now I am," she said to herself, absently, as she reached the end of the tunnel and turned to hold the hatch open for Marcus. As they secured it behind themselves, she noted one last similarity to the rassophore, and she was nearly decided.

"Thank you," the former Conservator said simply, before moving to stride toward the building, letting him follow if she wished. As she approached it, the unexpected confrontation between Sir Gefrei and the gardener came into view. She inhaled sharply, the listener for once caught in surprise's snare. But she didn't need her priestess' senses to recognize the unwitting traveler out of time. His utterance of "Pes" she'd mistaken, at first, for "Pest". She tried a halting Magyar greeting - languages had never come naturally to her - but when he turned to his Latinate demands for the year, she felt more at ease.

"MMXV," she provided, holding out both her hands, as she drew on the accent that belied her birthplace of Piraeus. The stroll with Marcus had calmed her spirit in a way she could not describe, and now she tried to project that same aura to the unknown knight, to keep him from rashness.

Swith Witherward wrote:marshmallow


Chrys lifted the hand still in her grasp and took a quick survey of it, before letting go.

"Go on," she tried to chime, though her duller tones echoed Hans' fatigue somewhat, rather than reflecting negativity. "I should check on my sister first, and take care of my turn to watch our friend Lesterberry, from Allspice. I'll stay with you till you fall down, though..." She yawned at this point. "And then we can go for the walk on the beach you suggested, and then come back here?"

She tucked her hair up to keep it neater, after the last day's activities had left it in disarray, and used her key to open the door.
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Primordial Luxa
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Founded: Oct 30, 2012
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Fri Aug 21, 2015 9:36 am

Primordial was focused on Insidious notes than any of the other obscene drawings which the Luxans had left lying around. He was interested in doing more research on Hollow and discerning exactly what she was and more about her very interesting origins. Insidious notes where well encrypted through her own short hand which was a Latin text using Cyrillic word structure and a Celtic sentence structure. This mean that the words, letters and grammar were all from different languages, not an impossible code to crack but to someone who wasn’t entirely fluent in all of those languages it was very complicated.

Primordial had surprisingly little knowledge about the details of Hollow, her abilities, makeup or her creation which wasn’t entirely surprising since he had only been working with her for a short time and had not been very instrumental in her creation. However from what Insidious had told him he was able to discern quite a bit on his own. He knew that her powers allowed her to take on the genetic, biological, physical and spiritual traits of animals which she had eaten but there had to more to it which Primordial needed to figure out.

Hollow always smelled strongly of raw meat no matter the situation which was a dead giveaway about what kind of intrinsic fields she possessed. While intrinsic fields couldn’t tell about a person’s insides they were almost always a result of a person’s internal nature. Because of this the one thing Primordial was sure about was that Hollows intrinsic fields had some sort of connection to the greater morphogenetic field of this universe.

The morphogenetic field was an invisible set of energy currents which radiated through most places and were responsible for effects, causing and stopping drastic sudden changes in living and none living creatures. The type of change wasn’t important so long as they were sudden however so these waves and fields were important in electrical systems and many biological functions. He imagined the Blue Bird of Change from the Chaos pantheon had his fingers firmed cemented in the stuff or maybe it made up part of his very body.

Regardless Primordial used them on occasion but he knew that anything like Hollow would need to use them almost constantly in order to maintain both her strange internal image and her biological powers. However the morphogenetic field wasn’t something thing that did anything on its own it was always reliant on other external forces to start the change and end it while it merely acted as a guide allowing the change to take place quickly. So maybe he could look for references the Morphogenetic Field in Insidious notes to try to figure more out about the force which was effecting her body.

After several hours of translation Primordial was able to come up with a single phrase which seemed almost uniquely tied to Insidious descriptions of the Morphogenetic Field. “The Crimson”. However Primordial could tell from the context that The Crimson didn’t reference to a color but to a Higher Reality. It was some plane of existence or type of reality that coexisted with our own however due to our meek minds, petty senses and its cosmic nature normal people and scientists would never be able to discover or even sense its presence. That’s what magic really was, things humankind could never or never really needed to understand. It wasn’t the science of earth it was the science of the multiverse and despite what objectivists might thing humans had a poverty to their math and mind which made it almost impossible for them to understand things like this. Without the risk of insanity of course.

Primordial had never heard of The Crimson but he doubted it was an all-new invention or discover of Insidious because frankly she wasn’t that smart.
Last edited by Primordial Luxa on Fri Aug 21, 2015 10:03 am, edited 2 times in total.
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.

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Torsiedelle
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Posts: 18306
Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Fri Aug 21, 2015 5:54 pm

The BranRiech wrote:He felt so exposed! Drova was at least used to being seen in this state by Yuna, but really, no one else had ever seen him in bed, or asleep for that matter. Drova watched as the girl scooted up to the edge of the bed, still holding the covers over himself, tightly gripping them 'till he could gauge Torii's reaction. "I would appreciate some food, and hospitality." He nodded curtly to her request that he stay for breakfast.

Gently folding the covers over his knees, the Prince sat up and arched his back, letting a few loose bones pop back into place, his wings stretching out, brushing against the wall behind him. "And to tell the truth, I've never really bothered with listening to human music, what's Rock?" Drova asked as he slid off the bed, landing on his feet.


"Really? Rock is amazing.", Torii said. "There are a lot of different styles, like classic rock with Elvis, or The Beetles, The Rolling Stones, and then there's Johnny Cash, and then you have stuff like German metal and Japanese Rock, Punk, Grunge, Alternative, stuff like Kid Rock...although I don't think that's rock...but anyways, there's all sorts of stuff. It all usually uses an electric guitar, though.", She said. "Let's listen to one of my favorites, okay?", She said.

She got up and walked around, near Drova's side of the bed to look at the music for their room. Katya enjoyed listening to it all around the apartment, and so their sound system almost always kept some music playing in the background to make it more homey. Torii cranked the volume up and put on some Pat Benatar. "She rules.", Torii commented. "There's also Bon Jovi. My dad likes them. This is stuff from the 80's, though. If you don't like it, I also like to listen to newer stuff, like Breaking Benjamin. They're American, I think. They're English, anyway."
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Warpspace
Diplomat
 
Posts: 901
Founded: Aug 02, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Warpspace » Sat Aug 22, 2015 12:34 am

The silver figure darted through the jagged alleyways that ran across the city, his maille armor making him appear akin to a bullet parting the darkness of a night's sky as he cut through the shadowy passages. He ran in a mixture of confusion and purpose, unsure of this new world he had awoken too- but consumed by devoir for them. His mind shut him from even the faintest address of such thought, yet bits of anxious worry bled through. If this truly was the the two thousand and fifteenth year of our Lord, what of his wife and the child she was with? No. He purged the small trickle of such thoughts from him, the deluge of grief would come later, but first he needed answers before he allowed himself to crack.

Bursting from the alleyway he had been running down for some time, the Knight muscled his way through a crowd he stumbled into to be met with a familiar sight. Paying no heed to the dispersed crowd that now stared at this curious figure- the man smiled. It was good to see that at the very least the Church had survived the time he had spent sleeping in the ground. He would throw himself before the alter to seek forgiveness for whatever sins had led him to such a miserable current fate, but that would come later. As much as he wished to seek council with a priest it was unlikely he would even understand what he was saying considering his past "conversation", and the man would not have the answers he sought. He knight blindly fumbled in one of his traveling sacks, his vision blocked as he had yet to remove his phrygian helm. Finding what he sought in the leather purse, the Norman extracted a crude drawing of the building he was told to search for, holding it up to cityscape before him. Squinting from the sunlight creeping across the morning sky, the Norman spotted his destination, and set off in a sprint- he refused to let any more time stand between him and the answers he craved.

The knight shoved his way through the crowd gathering around his curious person and flung open the doors to the Apartment Building with complete abandon- caring little if he shattered their glass frames. Stepping into the lobby before the doors swung shut behind him, the nobleman scanned the room for somebody he could identify as some leader or person of information- a person behind a desk full of strange glowing windows seemed to be a wise choice for pursuit. He walked up to the desk in a swift manner, spurs and maille jingling like coins in one's pocket with each step with his sanguine cape shadowing the movements of his legs. The person's attention was fortunately already drawn to him from their strange devices, and the Knight immediately jumped to Norman-French while gripping the desk with clenched maille mitts.

"I am Sir Gefrei de Bataille- Lord of Ivry and Vassal of the Empress Maude, Queen of the Romans. By the will of God and the Throne of England, what IN HELL HAS HAPPENED TO ME? WHERE AM I? WHEN AM I? WHERE IS MY WIFE?"
If we affirm one moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence. For nothing is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed.
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The BranRiech
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Posts: 31391
Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Sat Aug 22, 2015 8:01 am

Torsiedelle wrote:"Really? Rock is amazing.", Torii said. "There are a lot of different styles, like classic rock with Elvis, or The Beetles, The Rolling Stones, and then there's Johnny Cash, and then you have stuff like German metal and Japanese Rock, Punk, Grunge, Alternative, stuff like Kid Rock...although I don't think that's rock...but anyways, there's all sorts of stuff. It all usually uses an electric guitar, though.", She said. "Let's listen to one of my favorites, okay?", She said.

She got up and walked around, near Drova's side of the bed to look at the music for their room. Katya enjoyed listening to it all around the apartment, and so their sound system almost always kept some music playing in the background to make it more homey. Torii cranked the volume up and put on some Pat Benatar. "She rules.", Torii commented. "There's also Bon Jovi. My dad likes them. This is stuff from the 80's, though. If you don't like it, I also like to listen to newer stuff, like Breaking Benjamin. They're American, I think. They're English, anyway."

"Eh."

Drova was nonplussed, and a little bit unimpressed with the noise. It all sounded too chaotic for his liking, and to admit, the boy had never been into music very much anyways. "I suppose it's alright." He conceded to his friend, stomach grumbling over his words. "Hey, so what is breakfast today, Torii?" Drova asked in a vain attempt to change the subject away from music, something he knew little about, and didn't have an opinion on.

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Torsiedelle
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Posts: 18306
Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Sat Aug 22, 2015 12:35 pm

"Breakfast is usually pretty simple for us. Either pancakes and some bacon, or fried potatoes, oatmeal, biscuits, breakfast stuff. It always had bacon, though. We like bacon."

Torii cranked up the volume and hopped back onto the bed. "I'll wait for my sister to cook. I'm not too great at it, besides making some steaks or frying some stuff.", She admitted.

It was about that time that Katya was being finished anyways. It took a minute between the shower stopping and her actually coming out, a towel wrapped around her slim figure. She ignored the two as she peaked into their little closet to grab her clean clothes, and dipped into the second bedroom. Torii pointed. "Yeah, she's the cook. Anyways, I really should take a quick shower, too. I can't ignore my hair. It's one of my better qualities.", She chuckled. "It'll only be a few minutes. I think you and my sister know each other, though. Is that cool?"
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Cerillium
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New York Times Democracy

Postby Cerillium » Sat Aug 22, 2015 12:39 pm

Yesterday's Underworld Times exploded in a small atomic cloud shaped plume of sulfuric goodness. Alas, poor Sandy would need to get off his ass and pick up the current edition. It was worth the hassle. Ol' Itum's face was plastered on the front page. Sadly, the photograph was slightly outdated and obviously someone (Loki perhaps) had taken the liberty of Photoshopping a crumpled ship behind his head. Gods had a twisted sense of humor.

They also apparently have Photoshop. I'm impressed.

Pardon me while I patch up this fourth wall.

Truthfully, there was nothing outwardly "magical" about the magical newspaper. It was extraordinarily ordinary, radiating nothing but the bitter scents of ink on newspaper. That is, when it wasn't stinking up the area surrounding Sandy with its post-recycling Stench. It carried no sound. It reflected no image. It was a paradox swaddled in an enigma knitted by Eris' third uncle. What else would you expect from a rag that featured Bacchus' restaurant guide and the occasional op-ed from Apep? The danger in publishing was the unfortunate discovery of actual gods still existing, thus the Times took great pains to disguise itself as a bit of fantasy masturbated from the minds of some bored teenagers in their quest to be goth -- when it wasn't disguising itself as something else. In fact, to read the damn articles at all required nothing less than godhood (or a god paying your subscription). Fortunately for the gods and actual subscribers in the building (and by that I do not mean anything less than a god) -- and for Sandy and his sight -- the meat of each story was written between the lines. The comics were readable by all, thankfully, as were the advertisements and public notices. And that, my dears, is why the paper is free and at the lobby's reception desk.

Today, the Underworld Times was behaving as badly as The Onion. "Budweiser Unveils Social Anxiety Bottle With 900% More Label To Pick At!" was the headline of the day. But it was the aforementioned photograph of Septimus Itum that caught the eye. This was tucked under bold, black font declaring "Details Of Donald Trump’s Immigration Plan".

    This week, Donald Trump unveiled his plan for addressing immigration as president, a series of core principles that specify his heretofore generalized statements about America’s relationship with immigrants.

    Here are the items detailed in Trump’s outline: Construction of world-class border wall featuring hundreds of miles of sand traps and water hazards; Improved visa application will require immigrants to declare if they are rapist thugs; Creates robust Border Beauties division of Immigration and Customs Enforcement; Concierge and personal valet service across border for Mexicans with net worth of over $5 million; Clause allowing Trump to deport any current American citizens he deems pathetic and classless as well; U.S. citizenship application process to require recommendation letters from current notable U.S. citizens; Establishes long-term, forward-looking plan to find new nationality to scapegoat for America’s problems by 2035; Admission that U.S. economy will suffer quite a bit.

However, for those with godhood or those with a proper subscription, the white spaces between the lines grew until they squeezed the printed text into teensy hairlines. It was only then that the actual article would appear, the words remaining just long enough for the eye to skim them before receding into the paper again.

    Yesterday, Septimus Itum was elected as District Representative for the Market District in Bielefeld City, Bielefeld. It is the first time that any mortals have voted for an openly supernatural candidate in a free election, although the supers movement is still pressing to see proof of his supernatural status. Regardless, Itum comes into power at a time when all the Underworld finds itself embroiled in the God War while also facing persecution within the Material Realm. This persecution, and the accompanying loss of followership, has greatly affected those pantheons reliant upon the energies generated by their followers.

    The Underworld Times was invited to interview Zalgo on election night after rumors broke forth regarding its possible intervention post election. Zalgo confirmed that a summoning was set to take place, the resulting Chaos enabling supernatural beings to flee should the 13th Measure play. While all the Underworld breathed a relieved sigh at the Measure's failing, the fact remains that the loss was marginal at best. Zalgo confirmed that the summoning proceeded in order to properly boost morale for supernatural beings and their supporters. Only one negative incident transpired during the Event; Azathoth was heavily fined as a result.

Other articles surfaced and vanished, none of them having any bearing upon the actual story (so please don't ask about them because I have a life and am in no mood to write them). A few adverts on the back page listed trivial things for sale at a price no mere mortal could afford.

A copy of the Times - paid for by Klaus personally - was delivered to Septimus Itum's door where it would await his scaled attaché's notice.
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Giovenith
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Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Sat Aug 22, 2015 4:04 pm

It had been of utmost importance that Willow received some sleep, and he had, but probably not as much as any doctor would have recommended; there was just too much on his hooves to be done. He could troop through it though, he had a good willpower and a steady supply of coffee and 5 Hour Energy. First thing was first, he had to find out just how much money had been collected from Zalgofest, which was made easy on account of Giovenith possessing a money-counting machine in one of her many suitcases (sweet Celestia, this girl had everything!). While that was running, he set to work on completing the raptor family commission.

They'd requested a Silent Hill theme, and the result was a stringy, cracking display of black, greys, and reds ranging from dirty rust to beastly eye glow. He'd gotten a good deal of work in before and just needed to make sure it was perfect before spraying it down with a solution meant to keep the dried paint from cracking or smudging.

Then was the planning.

What Willow wanted to do was donate all of this money, however much it might be, publicly to the families of the people lost in the attack on the museum. He wanted the donation to be anonymous save for the fact that it came from an EB source, and send it off with a statement encouraging unity among all Bielefeldans. That was his basic goal, but how to actually accomplish it was another matter entirely. It was very difficult to donate money out of the blue in such high amounts while staying anonymous, at least it was when you were a single commoner like Willow was, and even more difficult to attach any sort of message to it. For all he knew, the money would go to the right people but they'd brush the kind of person it came from under the rug, if not outright lie and imply it came from a mundane. He needed representation, someone to help him out with the more official side of things.

Ding! went the counter in the suitcase, stirring the pony from his quiet contemplation on Gio's bed. Oh, it was ready. He quickly got up and checked the little LED screen: $500,000? Daaaaaaaaaaaaang! It was pretty lucky last night he'd found that note that came with all the cash and the statue... "Hey Willow Streaks maaan, thanks for the wild ride! Here's a little something to remember me by. -Clumsy Joe". Celestia bless you Clumsy Joe, whoever you were. Perhaps some of the excess could toward the museum itself too... maybe convince them to put up a kind of unity monument. The statue he had? Yes! Willow didn't think anyone could argue with a bold statement when it was backed by heavy charity; and hey, if they did, if they tried to protest or vandalize the display, the only ones looking like fools would be them. If word around town was right, Giovenith was up to something similar with her mural skills. Good girl! Viva revolution!

Hmmm... it was pretty quiet in the room without the godling or the golem around. Last night he'd taken the liberty of snoozing on Giovenith's bed, and just then realized how much he preferred having his own space. Willow had no intentions of moving out, but perhaps he could convince Giovenith their home was in need of an expansion? The Building was magically modifiable, after all. Ah, but that was for another time. Word to do now, first up: Deliver the finished project.

Suiting up the painting in a protective cloth, Willow slipped the piece into his saddlebag, locked up 2D behind him, and went off to deliver the commission to it's commissioners. Hopefully they'd be home to accept it.
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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Sat Aug 22, 2015 5:09 pm

The door to apartment 8G casually swung out from the hinges to the frame. The resident girl shadowed the doorway in a hunched form. It was morning, and 4 hours of sleep for this young adult was no where near enough. Still, her stomach woke her up and wouldn't let her go to sleep. The only things she had on were a white t-shirt with a green mushroom on it and a pair of blue thermal pajama pants. She shuffled out into the hallway, falling over and grinding against the walls at random intervals during her trip.

At almost fifteen minutes past, she shambled into the communal dining room and kitchen. The curious on-looker would be forgiven for thinking that the building had recently allowed a zombie girl into the listings with the way she was acting. Brit grabbed a can of Coke, popped some toast, poured some cereal, and sat in a chair with her legs crossed. She stared at her food as it sat in front of her, yawning a few times as her brain tried to get the hamster working the wheel inside her head, but the hamster had a long and rough night like her, and wasn't really wanting to start work this early. The remains of the blue hair dye from last night's Zalgofest spotted her hair along with her bandage.
Last edited by Monfrox on Sat Aug 22, 2015 6:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Swith Witherward
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Posts: 30302
Founded: Feb 11, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Swith Witherward » Sat Aug 22, 2015 6:36 pm

Marcus ghosted Dora on the woodland path simply because he needed to retrieve the truck's spare keys from his apartment, although he didn't mind her company. It was better than walking alone, and she wasn't so bad; it was his own insecurities and shyness that kept his tongue hobbled. He sighed as they closed in on the Building, and then thrust his hands into his jeans pockets and skirted the lobby desk, taking the steps two at a time. Dora was still in the lobby when he came back down, although she seemed to be engaged in conversation with a newcomer. The boy paused at the desk to grab a copy of The Underworld Times (his mother was a subscriber). He tucked it and the Bielefeld Daily under his arm and set out once more.

The Underworld contained a bunch of uninteresting things, although the election stuff was important enough for him to read through twice. His eyes flitted to the metro section to take in Peitho's usually abysmal advice column, and then he discarded the supernatural newspaper in order to browse something more down to earth, although The Daily didn't have much more than The Underworld. The only thing that really caught his attention was the typical post-Zalgo announcement of an unexpected and half-assed federal holiday, which meant that the city was struggling to wake from its hangover. Schools would have been closed, had it been during the school year. Most government offices weren't expected to make any real attempt at conducting business; the courts had rescheduled their cases. Bus service was delayed. Meh. The town went through this every time, and no one really minded.

Well, perhaps people like Dr. Briggs cared. Marcus wondered if the stuck up asshat had experienced Zalgo, or if he'd surrounded himself with salt rings and rice grains the moment he thought something was amiss. No matter. It wasn't like anyone wanted him ruining their fun, anyway.

The boy yawned and headed up Main where, presumably, Sister Theresa had abandoned the Observatory's truck after it broke out into profanity-infused limericks. The vehicle was exactly where she said, and it remained steadfastly silent as he cracked open the door and slid into the driver's seat.



Neste selfishly savored the beds remaining warmth, curling into a tight ball and leaving only her snout and eyes visible in order to track Septimus as he picked up the Zalgofest remnants. He was right, of course. Politicians often strayed towards the unscrupulous. She pinched her eyes tight and refused to consider the possibility of ever being the one to give him the lashing.

His murmured gratitude caused the golden eyes to appear again, and the lizard found herself wondering what sort of horrors had plagued his past that something as beautiful and selfless as sharing a bed should be seen as extraordinary. It was she who ought to thank him. Most humans would have turned a construct out after receiving satisfaction. Perhaps the relationship between cyborg and lizard worked so well due to neither being clever enough to understand their societies' rules for these things?

"You're welcome," she emerged from her cocoon to leisurely stretch and yawn atop the sheets. "I'll stay any time you ask. And not just because Scel and FUBAR destroyed my place when they moved the lab. What a pair of twits."

The construct rolled upright and swung her legs over the mattress edge. "I'll put on some tea as well, although this is one of those rare mornings where I'd welcome a cup of the Brisby's strongest coffee."

Neste wouldn't hear any talk of favors owed, however. She did for him because she loved him, and because it pleased her to make his life a little less stressful. She had a choice in the matter. It wasn't an obligation or an order. The lizard shook her head as she slipped on his shirt; perhaps one day she'd find a way to show him the world through her eyes.

It didn't take long for her to rattle through cabinet and refrigerator. Her mind drifted as she worked. It was really no different than when she had served the Corps Diplomatique, except that Septimus wasn't an ambassador with a snarled agenda and matching temperament. His schedule was mostly empty, he hadn't any meetings slated other than those required of all district reps, and no calls had come in. Minerva's paltry instructions suddenly made sense: tell him to be himself, tell him to follow his gut, tell him... yes, yes, Neste got it. If Septimus followed his instincts, he'd be fine.

Her ears swiveled to catch the sound of a soft knock upon his door, and she opened it to find a rather apathetic android standing in the hall.

"Oh good, you received my transmission," the construct chimed as she took a carpule case and a bundle of borrowed clothing from her on-and-off roommate. "I owe you, Amara. Thank you so much!"

The Drone android said nothing. FUBAR didn't broker favors. As long as the lizard kept the humans off its back, all was well. Amara stooped and scooped up the morning papers, handing them over to the construct with a sigh before retreating down the hall, and Neste was left to tend the stove and ponder her thoughts once more.

A particularly savory omelette slid onto a plate just as the cyborg stepped from his shower, and Neste tucked toast beside it before setting the meal and newspapers onto the table.
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The BranRiech
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Posts: 31391
Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Sat Aug 22, 2015 8:04 pm

Torsiedelle wrote:"Breakfast is usually pretty simple for us. Either pancakes and some bacon, or fried potatoes, oatmeal, biscuits, breakfast stuff. It always had bacon, though. We like bacon."

Torii cranked up the volume and hopped back onto the bed. "I'll wait for my sister to cook. I'm not too great at it, besides making some steaks or frying some stuff.", She admitted.

It was about that time that Katya was being finished anyways. It took a minute between the shower stopping and her actually coming out, a towel wrapped around her slim figure. She ignored the two as she peaked into their little closet to grab her clean clothes, and dipped into the second bedroom. Torii pointed. "Yeah, she's the cook. Anyways, I really should take a quick shower, too. I can't ignore my hair. It's one of my better qualities.", She chuckled. "It'll only be a few minutes. I think you and my sister know each other, though. Is that cool?"

"I certainly can't wait much longer for breakfast." Drova muttered playfully as Torii got up. He'd paid little attention to Katya, and only really noticed her as she hopped into the next room over to presumably change clothes from her recent shower. "And yeah, I do believe we've been introduced at least once." He spoke uncertainly, not sure if Katya would remember him, or even if he had remembered her, which would have been far more embarrassing.

He'd certainly appreciated the hospitality of the two girls though, even if he was rude enough to forget Torii's sister. His eyes were glued to Torii though, as she slid off the bed, walking into the bathroom off to the side of the room, watching her swaying thighs, nearly entranced.

"She is beautiful." He admitted to himself, once the door was shut and the shower was on. The boy leaned back, resting against the bedframe. It was almost useless to try and convince himself otherwise, that his feelings for Torii were wrong. How could feelings of attraction be wrong, if they were for the right person? Drova wasn't going to be the one to argue against the idea of fate, or of the idea that there was someone out there that was simply meant to be there. Yuna would give him an earful if he argued against fate. He wriggled with goosebumps in the bed, feeling queasy at the thought of spending the rest of his life with Torii. It was there, where his thoughts clouded over with negativity and worry, the future still unclear, as it should be.

"Agh . . ." His head shook from side to side, hair splayed out behind him, wings wrapped up around his back as he waited for Katya.

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The New Velociraptor Empire
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Posts: 13245
Founded: Dec 18, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The New Velociraptor Empire » Sat Aug 22, 2015 8:32 pm

Neil and Gretta returned to the building from the park irritated. Their excursion had yielded nothing on USiPo besides bags of blood-soaked dirt and samples of dead bugs and grass. They had sent the samples to the new research building as they wanted Insidious to analyze the samples with them present. Arthur had informed the Raptorial couple of Primordial's approval of the proposed partnership on the car ride back to the Apartment. The news slightly lifted their spirits from the perceived defeat.

"Either they are better at cloaking than we thought or they can jam our equipment somehow." Neil muttered acidulously as he was greeted by Scarface in the house door.

They could not remember why the exterior of the house was in its former lot neighboring the apartment, but it was. In the Apartment, door 2A still lead inside the strange manor, just not to the foyer. Instead the door inside the Apartment lead to the hall next to Arthur's bedroom.

---

Velocidoctor suddenly came to, as his timeline thawed out inside the wrapping paper. The sudden change of air and position threw him off a bit, as did the sudden scent of tacos. "Wrapping paper gun? How novel." Velocidoctor said with a tone of contempt. "Wrong, I just had the time to add those touches. And it seems like I didn't adjust the stasis field duration right." NVE replied dryly between audibly crunchy bites. Velocidoctor clawed the paper obstructing his vision off to find himself in the passenger seat of a black ambulance. He saw NVE peering through a pair of binoculars at some kids having breakfast in a large house.

"What are you doing? Why am I here? And why Tacos?" Velocidoctor asked, expecting not to like what he would hear.

NVE snapped back and stared at Velocidoctor as he threw the binoculars in the back. "NOTHING!" he shouted furiously in defense. Suddenly he remembered that he should not be here at all much less make his presence known, so he sunk down in the seat quietly with a scowl on his face.

"Okay." the old raptor said cautiously as he backed up towards the door. He then realized that this may be a good time to escape. Before he could act NVE drove off and reached in the crevasse between the seat and the door. "You saw nothing, okay?" NVE threatened as he pulled the Stasis gun out and froze Velocidoctor again.

With a sigh, NVE felt like this was the way things started. One moment of weakness and there was no telling how that moment would be exploited or by whom. He had no remorse for the lives ended by his hand, but sparing someone rattled him. The little fish-boy who he gave a chance of a better life to those few years ago, now just an orphan boy with a neat scar around his head and no memory of Itex.

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Highfort
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Founded: May 11, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Highfort » Sat Aug 22, 2015 8:43 pm

Septimus mulled over Neste's mention of staying over as he scrubbed himself of sex and the bits of adhesive Neste's Nifid abilities hadn't been able to clean away. It would be convenient to have her, not to mention that he did need someone to run errands and care for Sentia while he was out. Speaking of Sentia...


The cat awoke with a start in the kitchen. She spotted a blue-haired girl with a bandaged wound assembling what appeared to be breakfast, and that was the undead kitty's cue to leave. Sentia had little interest in being someone's plaything or, worse, being taken out by some good samaritan who figured the owner would be missing her by now. Plus, without a collar - Septimus had been too busy and stupid to remember to get her one - she might be mistaken for a stray... And she did NOT want to end up in the pound like last time.

Scurrying up the stairs, Sentia found a robotic woman sauntering away from Septimus' door, having just dropped off some things for Neste and the apartment's resident cyborg. The cat proceeded to scamper over to the door before scratching on it repeatedly, having missed an opportunity to slip in while Neste and Amara were exchanging morning pleasantries and whatever sundries the android had procured for the apartment. She required breakfast, and she could smell something delicious wafting from the kitchen and dining area. Presumably Neste knew well enough to procure the cat her desired breakfast - no flatmate of Septimus would forget and be fit to still walk in the apartment without shame.


Emerging from the steam which fogged up the glass casing of his shower, Septimus donned his work clothes before rinsing out his mouth of the usual morning breath and combing his hair. The cyborg paid particular attention to his eye, wiping it down with a towel and then several pieces of toilet paper to ensure it was dry and ready for action before powering down for a moment for his routine processor core dump. Though low on power, the processor at the base of his neck did what was required and after several moments of beeping and clicking, he found it silent once more as it finished collating the previous day's data and powered down to conserve the energy Neste had strapped from it.

Satisfied that he would be presentable to whoever bothered to show up to work today - Zalgofest would probably result in most government officials staying at home, if they knew what was good for them - he emerged to find an omelet and toast presented to him on a plate in the small dining table in the kitchen. Two newspapers - Bielefield's most reliable sources of public opinion and media spin - flanked the scrumptious breakfast and he broke into a smile at finding that Neste had kept to the promise that had been the excuse for insisting on her staying over.

Of course she would keep to the promise, she was actually a decent person. Unlike some people...

Refusing to let his morning be further dampened by memories of Ophelia and her transgressions, the cyborg took a seat opposite the construct and began to dig in, adding a thankful, "This is delicious!" between bites of egg, cheese, breakfast meats, and toast.

Grabbing for the nearest paper as he chewed, Septimus unfolded it to find a copy of the Underworld Times staring him in the face. He noted with amusement the ridiculous headlines and columns before the words slowly began to mesh together to reveal the true articles hidden behind amateur satire. The article detailing his election in particular struck him as important, right after he was about to skim the next page and ignore the words of whomever the idiot "Donald Trump" was. As he read, his chewing slowed and he swallowed audibly, digesting both the food and the information at once even as his reduced-power processor filed it away in the background.

"Neste, have you had a chance to go over Underworld yet? There's an article on the election and its effect on supernatural individuals," Septimus stood up to let in Sentia, the tell-tale scratching pricking at his ears even as he slipped into lethargy as the breakfast began to settle down in his stomach, "Zalgo apparently ran last night's insanity to give people an opportunity to get out. There's no trust that we can handle the situation - that has to change."
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Torsiedelle
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Posts: 18306
Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Sat Aug 22, 2015 8:53 pm

After a minute or so of awkward silence (minus the rock music and TV), with Torii beginning her shower, Katya came back in. She tossed her blazer over her shoulder as she stepped in, fixing her black tie over her neatly buttoned, tucked in shirt. "It's tough, being my best.", She chuckled, "But what can I do? So, give me just a moment."

Before breakfast, she reached into the cabinets and readied everything to make a pot of coffee. After that, she just grabbed some pancake mix and the various other ingredients and readies everything up, pulled the bacon out, and allowed the stove to heat up before pouring everything in. She'd check it all when it needed to be handled. She was quick and neat in her preparations, and, after a quick wash of her hands, hopped out and quickly approached Drova. "I like to cook a simple breakfast. So, I see Tora was listening to her music. I like it a little, but if it's more modern stuff I prefer pop.", She commented. She messed around for a moment, and was happy when Glamorous started up. She pulled her chair back to the bedside, turned it around, and sat down backwards, looking the boy over. "So, you two spent the night together? I saw you when I came in, but my head was fuzzy. She's talked about you, and your sister."
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The BranRiech
Post Czar
 
Posts: 31391
Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Sat Aug 22, 2015 10:11 pm

Torsiedelle wrote:After a minute or so of awkward silence (minus the rock music and TV), with Torii beginning her shower, Katya came back in. She tossed her blazer over her shoulder as she stepped in, fixing her black tie over her neatly buttoned, tucked in shirt. "It's tough, being my best.", She chuckled, "But what can I do? So, give me just a moment."

Before breakfast, she reached into the cabinets and readied everything to make a pot of coffee. After that, she just grabbed some pancake mix and the various other ingredients and readies everything up, pulled the bacon out, and allowed the stove to heat up before pouring everything in. She'd check it all when it needed to be handled. She was quick and neat in her preparations, and, after a quick wash of her hands, hopped out and quickly approached Drova. "I like to cook a simple breakfast. So, I see Tora was listening to her music. I like it a little, but if it's more modern stuff I prefer pop.", She commented. She messed around for a moment, and was happy when Glamorous started up. She pulled her chair back to the bedside, turned it around, and sat down backwards, looking the boy over. "So, you two spent the night together? I saw you when I came in, but my head was fuzzy. She's talked about you, and your sister."

"She did? Oh . . . Um, what did she say?" Drova asked as he nodded in response to Katya, after she'd asked if he'd spent the night or not. "Yeah, we're good friends, I'd like to consider us that much at least, and I would admit we had an interesting night, though I'll spare you the details." Drova smiled curtly, sitting up a little more in the bed. His stomach rumbled again, producing a low roar. It was obvious he was quite hungry, but not enough to interrupt a conversation. "I-I don't remember whether or not we've met before." He finally stumbled out, his cheeks turning a little red. "I'm Drova, if we haven't been introduced, though you're Torii's sister, right?"

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