Personification Life: EPIC (IC Thread XI) [CLOSED]

[Germanic Templars]

"Only thing secret is my training I went through since I was born and the experiments. Aside from that, nothing else is, and I do not protect the emperor personally." Max pointed out.

Running down the stairs past the two was Dr. Smith, ready with a pistol."Get ready, Max, we got company. And don't worry emperor told you to get your armor and follow me." Dr. Smith remarked. The cyborg chambered around as he headed down the last flight of stairs readying up in the lobby.

"I protect people like him. Scientists, doctors. People who do research. What they research is not my concern, until it tries to kill them." Max pointed out. Crysal's one-liner was less than humorous to Max, as his ear twitched. "And I do not know much about movies, only heard about them, like motion picture or something is what they call them."

Her lack of origins and her age concerned Max. His suspicion on her being a "meta" with special abilities made him want to keep an eye on her.

Max looked up the stairs to see how far on progress they were making. "Dammit, only fourth floor. Can't this place have an elevator or something?"

"I almost envy you, then. Training AND experimentation? I swear, the warriors of today are spoiled." She said, in the same tone one would take if they were complaining about teenagers and their social media. As per usual, it was hard to tell if she was making a crack at him or just a simple observation.

Crysal took some time to look over the Doctor, examining him, mostly. Once she heard what his association with Max was, it made a bit more sense. Resuming their run through the apartments, Crysal cleared her throat yet again, and continued the conversation. "Not really the type to question orders, eh? There's... something to be admired about that trait, I suppose." She muttered, as they made their way up the stairs. "I think we have much more pressing matters than making this place handicap accessible at the moment. Once we can stop worrying about constant attack, maybe then we can turn our sights to elevators."

Perhaps it'd be a good idea to talk tactics, seeing as they may be fighting alongside each other sooner or later. This new realm wasn't friendly in the slightest. Like the first city surrounded by untamed wilderness, always under constant attack from 'savages'. It was a narrative she was used to, preferred. Could always paint oneself as the hero that way. "So, I take it you're more of a firearms user? You don't strike me as much of a dyn cryf." She paused for effect. "No offense."

"Dyn what? Never mind, forget it I do not know and do not care now, what is important is if we can get our gear and get moving out. As for preferences I prefer weapons, but if need be I can kill as close up as hand-to-hand. As for questioning orders, that is none of my concern. I have a job that was given to me from birth and I will follow through and I will never question orders of my superiors. If I have concerns I will express them at a more convenient time. As you can see, this is not convenient. As for my training." Max paused for a moment he looked down at his feet, watching them keep moving up the staircase that felt as if it was never ending. He lifted his head, glaring at Crysal, "Hardly spoiled considering the training and the trials, and keeping experiments in check, especially the class Delta type, can be dangerous; life threatening."

By this time, the duo made it up to the sixth floor. Max's pace remained consistent, he barely felt the gear that was meant to burden the beast during his run.

[Cerillium]

HALLS

Ocho lifted a solitary finger but the gesture was lost on Septimus' retreating back. The thade grunted. Years in Bielefeld told him that there was always an alarm sounding, and always a pressing matter at hand. The human would figure it out eventually, though hopefully not too late.

His lazy shamble carried him beyond the elevators and to the back stairs. He hadn't any intention of involving himself in Building bullshit this evening. The thade emerged from the stairwell to find FUBAR exactly where he'd left him. Obviously the Drone held the same sentiment. It shifted to the side to allow the large xeno to squeeze past to enter the apartment. Abandoned seats and cups in the biogarden indicated that the boy was finally out of decontamination. Good. That was one less stressful thing on Thaddeus' plate. Ocho bypassed the cozy seating area and the path Giovenith had taken. His business was deep within the garden's overgrown shag.

Two boulders kept each other company just shy of the exit tunnel. One shifted as the thade approached.

"Hello Buttons," Ocho slowed his approach, dropping himself lower as he crept forward. Best to not appear to be a threat. Buttons lifted her head from the other exo's back. Cunning eyes glittered at him in the near darkness, questioning his cheek at returning alone. Ocho growled a few choice words regarding alarms and idiots, and then drew closer to the pair.

The surrounding flora didn't offer much light, but it was enough for him to make out the weak rise and fall of Scel's chest wall. Her raw skin had taken on a darker hue, a good indication to Ocho that she might be stabilizing. He cautiously laid a hand upon her shivering muzzle and found more warmth there than when last he saw her.

"Hello girl," he crooned to the weakened being. Her eyes remained closed. "I'm sorry. I went to explain, but never had the chance."

Animosity welled within him as Scel's ears slowly curled shut. Here was a creature that had given her all. Oh, not during the Fiend attack. No, long before that. The unappreciative Residents discarded her far too easily. That he felt any empathy at all for a former enemy spoke volumes about the thade's own change of heart. A heavy sigh widened his nostrils as he pressed his face against her; His physiology rendered communion impossible at a time when she most needed to feel reassurances.

"Fuck them," his forlorn voice rustled the furled ear. "Let the fucking world come down around their ears. Fuck them all."



ROOF

In a flare of an incredibly bright light and a burst of radiation, everything around the orb was blasted away except for the ship itself which shuddered from the firing of the weapon. From it's center, a beam ripped through the skies within a matter of microseconds. It shattered the ground and instantly vaporized everything within a 5-block radius, any and all things which could burn ignited through and instantly became ash and dust. Earthen materials at the direct point of impact were liquidated, and the burst of air, fire and heat expelled out from the center. A ball of super-condensed energy and fire swelled far into it's bursting point and popped, unleashing a true shock wave that would both mow down and incinerate everything in it's path.

From the center outward, buildings were instantaneously engulfed in fire and flame, then crushed by overbearing force. It barreled outward and onward in a hyper-destructive wave of doom. It swept over every building and every object - Guardians still in the air were shattered and broken into pieces. The apartment would see it's last as the wall of fire neared it. Cars and debris flew by it and into it, as the familiar rooms, sights and features to the building were instantly burst into flame moments before the blast crushed the entire building, rushing over Chaos's forcefield with unparalleled intensity. The Apartment was gone entirely, and the blast showed no signs of stopping. The already destroyed Mall was leveled in seconds as the wall - hundreds of feet high - ran right over it. The city was quickly engulfed in this overbearing force, and fast approaching the city limits at a slower but still terrible speed. The tanks seemed to hunker down, TerrorDrones folding up into a defensive shape, while SecuriDrones stood helpless to the coming doom. The exos went to ground.

The fire roared over them all, the tanks blasted with thousands of degrees of roaring, screeching, flaring fire that passed over the line of Drones. The sea's were boiled as the fire swept over it, it showing no real stopping, and it wouldn't, not for another few miles onward.

"Oh, fuck me running!" Klaus watched the wall of death approach at speeds beyond comprehension.

A voice niggled the back of his mind, daring to break through the insanity to remind him of the most precious object in his possession. It came despite the searing heat lapping at the speaker's back. It came with the authority of wind and emotion, an illogical premise promoted not by Logic itself, but by the tiny pilot tucked within it. It spoke. It insisted. It growled.

Klaus heeded Malice. "I know. I know. I know. It's so... so fuck you... and fuck you too and this will do.... adieu!"

Klaus opened the object in his hand to reveal the tiny paper umbrella he'd stolen from the Chaos bar. He braced his back against Thriller and held it directly over their heads.The wall of death slammed into them. No, it slammed on top of them, but it didn't slam at all because it was nothing but kitten whiskers and dandelion puffs. They bounced and swirled, and Klaus laughed because they tickled. The paper umbrella held because nothing was more powerful than paper, except maybe scissors, but the Drones hadn't thought of that. Not very clever on their part. The umbrella held despite the hell and despite the ground disappearing. Kitten whiskers always uplifted when you were down, but the Drones forgot about that too.

Soft light brightened Klaus' cheeks and nose as another cigarette flared to life. He exhaled a plume towards the moon lurking high above. Rudolf's alarm obviously galvanized Residents into action; they'd deal with the ogres. The avatar's attention was needed elsewhere.

Krampus' dire warning wouldn't dissipate easily from his mind. They would need to send an envoy, of course. Klaus didn't relish that thought. Yet they knew very little of the colony here. The only one he'd trust for information was Her. And She hadn't dared to whisper to his mind in a very long time. Klaus flicked the cigarette harder than necessary, dislodging the cherry. It tumbled towards the earth, winking out before ever touching the ground.



LOBBY

Ruldolf was about to respond when his eyes were drawn towards the ogre band once more. Their shapes made a head count difficult, even for him. There were fifty, perhaps more? He couldn't tell. Three broke off from the rest. Three very big, very intimidating beings that walked with a swagger that set his spine to shivering. They had no fear in their eyes. There was, however, an intelligence to their angry faces.

The trio crossed the lawn and presented themselves to the Building's front stoop, though they kept back far enough to avoid the bright light shimmering from the glass doors.

"Ruinscrashers!" the largest bellowed. "Come out, if you dare. The Har'Keth Tribe has business with you."

[Chedastan]

<:SCANNING:>
...
<:DETECTED TARGETS: Heavy Biped Infantry Of Warband Size: SPECIES: Unknown Ogres:>
<:DETECTED MOVEMENT: Advancing Steadily:>
<:DETECTED ARMAMENTS: Heavy Melee Weapons And Potential Fire Implements: POSSIBLE UNKNOWNS:>
<:WARNING: Attack Highly Possible:>

The scanner in Romulus's suit read the obvious to him, he could already tell by simply looking out the front windows now of what they were dealing with, and what everyone else was saying. He was only hoping for the scanner to detect something else and surprise him, but sadly that wasn't going to be the case tonight. One thing was certain though, they still have to get people out front and ready for an assault that could happen if diplomacy ends up failing. They had to prepared for the worst, but luckily they have the instruments to fix it if it does. He nodded at Amanda when she indicated him. He stood before the mass of residents that have now conjugated in the lobby, he knew he had to organize this rabble to something fast before the ogres can come close enough for an assault... And then three broke off and got close enough to bellow at them, guess it was now or never.

"Alright, anyone interested in defense listen up!" He spoke up in his commanding voice loud for everyone in the room to hear him clearly. "I need volunteers to help set up the HMGs and other weapons out front in the event that our diplomatic envoy fails, and we are in need to organize a defense. All the weapons and ammo we bought today, along with those machine guns are still in the truck inside the garage. Anyone willing to help me get those for the defense, follow me there quickly to get those out. We ain't got time to waste people, lets go, go, go!" He led an arm towards the garage, and began, making his way towards it. He didn't waste any time when he gotten to Thaddeus's truck, and right away began picking up crates that were against the wall, and passing it to anyone that followed him.

[The BranRiech]

"Audacious . . . Peh." Bran rolled his eyes.

The man had been involved in far worse than things such as a roving band of Ogres. To be fair, Bran had never seen an ogre before, but he figured they wouldn't be as tough as Drones, or some of the many other horrors he'd fought and bled through, coming out alive again and again. One didn't really feel too frail with a big assault rifle, which was what was keeping Bran from running off to hide. He turned back, and faced the Klingons.

"You don't know me."

His shoulders rolled back in a shrug, the red-star pins holding his epaulets on rose with them, as he turned back to look out the window. Business with them? Had the building pissed off any Ogres recently? Bran let out another sigh, and quickly popped the magazine from the gun, checking to make sure it was loaded.

"So, who goes out there?" He asked.

[Saleon]

Sandy's door was open and people were milling about. He paused at the apartment's threshold. "Hey, we are going to be hit by big and nasty, ja! Rouse! To arms!"

Amanda didn't need a second hint. She quickly explained the situation to Dora's tour group. "Looks like that's the end of the visit. If you can fight, head down to the Lobby. Captain Blackwater is probably getting people organized down there. The odds are that my husband Sandy is there as well. He's in charge of our healers, so if you know magical healing or medicine, look for him, a tall guy with brown hair. And if you'll excuse me, I'll be heading for the lobby myself in a moment."

"We'll need to get to the hospital, I expect," she drawled. "Safest place, and there will probably be wounded at some point. Let's all go meet Ogoti."

Amanda nodded at Dora's mention of the hospital. "If Sandy's there, tell him I went to the lobby, and if he's in the lobby, I'll let him know where you are."

Amanda waited for Romulus to pass her on his way out, muttering something about continuing later. As long as nobody got killed, that would be fine with her. She hurried to over to the coat hooks by the door, tossed her suit jacket over a hook, and slid her shoulder holster back on. She pulled her jacket back on, made sure everybody had left her apartment, and then pulled the door locked behind her. She took the elevator down.

Emerging from the elevator car in the lobby, Amanda stood on tiptoe, trying to see Sandy. She found him by the windows, along with Bran, a woman she didn't recognize, and Romulus, now back in his armor. She brushed by people on her way over to them, tugged on Sandy's sleeve, whispered something that might have been a joking "how was your day?".

Astra was near dumbstruck as a man fled throughout the floors flinging word of danger. He shouted, quite vaguely, of danger and reason for "alarm!" The tour was ended in a near flip of a switch.

She scrambled to follow Amanda. "sorry, Dora, but I am not one to ignore a criminal!" she shouted, as she made her way down the stairs. Her lantern was placed tight into her hands, as she fed oil to curry the flame inside, so it may burn bright on those creatures who would seek injustice. She veered off on her own: even though she knew not what she would fight, even when all she had known had been challenged, and even when she had not known what monster would be or strong warrior or titan may be awaiting. This was her idiotic resolve to justice. Is she not blind, to not know the villainy, or whether she has the power to combat it?

She made it to the ground floor.

<:SCANNING:>
...
<:DETECTED TARGETS: Heavy Biped Infantry Of Warband Size: SPECIES: Unknown Ogres:>
<:DETECTED MOVEMENT: Advancing Steadily:>
<:DETECTED ARMAMENTS: Heavy Melee Weapons And Potential Fire Implements: POSSIBLE UNKNOWNS:>
<:WARNING: Attack Highly Possible:>
"Alright, anyone interested in defense listen up!" He spoke up in his commanding voice loud for everyone in the room to hear him clearly. "I need volunteers to help set up the HMGs and other weapons out front in the event that our diplomatic envoy fails, and we are in need to organize a defense. All the weapons and ammo we bought today, along with those machine guns are still in the truck inside the garage. Anyone willing to help me get those for the defense, follow me there quickly to get those out. We ain't got time to waste people, lets go, go, go!" He led an arm towards the garage, and began, making his way towards it. He didn't waste any time when he gotten to Thaddeus's truck, and right away began unloading what was still in the cargo hold, and passing it to anyone that followed him.

Everyone had found a way to barricade her from plain view of what was going on. She could tell of danger and of threat, but not of its source. She had followed Amanda, though, but could not squeeze past the people who lined the lobby. She marched on with the mass that she could see was in preparation for violent assault, which seemed more expected than any other alternative, based on the grave air which encapsulated the air.

She followed the ones who were "interested in defense..." which was all she could get from the one barking orders. She sought to it to meander till she was within the cargo hold, pulling out a simple pistol which matched her fingers.

[New Aksarben]

"Maghrl with with diplomatic team" the squib jedi told the rest firmly, stepping behind the man wearing epaulets since he seemed to be taking the lead. The squib slipped his saber up his sleeve and stood tall. His head only level to Bran's stomach more or less, roughly half his height. Not a very intimidating figure even against him, let alone the massive ogres. But he stood strong and determined to make sure no one got hurt. It was his job after all! And such an interesting place it would be a shame to not see it before it was destroyed.


Back in the lobby, Sterling nodded to Dan. "While I don't know much medicine, telekinesis would be useful in getting supplies around I'd say. Lead the way Dan." Sterling smiled weakly up to the fae before nodding. The pony glanced out the door nervously, still pawing at the floor with his hoof nervously. But then the pony shook his head and stopped his overtly nervous actions, and smiled brighter. "Okay, I'm ready to go!"

[Swith Witherward]

LOYALTY IV

I'm covered in splintered glass and blood, though the latter isn't my own, and sprawled on a moist floor reeking of piss and excrement. The flushed waste tanks. The sewers where I'd retreated when Shit Got Real and Charumati came to collect my soul. I'm missing my arm. More to the point, I'm missing my innocence. Savage hands had cracked open my psyche and taken an ice cream scoop to my childhood innocence. It was gone. Everything was gone. Stability, security, love - torn from my world.

"Mm, I'd get up if I were you!" The Dust Bunny growls, and then sinks its teeth into my tender backside to spur me along.

Fucking Dust Bunny. Enough! Oh, but it's never enough, is it? Of course not. I don't think I'll forgive you. Fuck, I'm still missing my goddamn arm! I appreciate you saving me and all, but was that trip really necessary?

"Eh?" the stuffed abomination cocks its head. "Do you really appreciate my efforts, Marcus?"

What a strange question. I resent the fuck out of this creature. Must we revisit every last nightmarish memory that haunts me? I buried this shit long ago. Death, destruction, and emptiness plagued every waking moment back then. And here we are - visiting the worst memory of all. I had crawled through those tanks on hands and knees, drawn to the sound of the lizard's voice. My solace, my eternal Mama Nes. And my salvation was always-

Omnissiah Breathed!

The Dust Bunny's eyes widen as I start to comprehend. Tears well in my eyes despite my effort to curtail them. I gulp down an emotional bolus that threatens to choke the last rational thought from my mind. Omnissiah... this isn't Naomi's handiwork at all. I blanch.

NO MORE! NO MORE, DO YOU HEAR ME?!

Because this was the part where I fall from the pipe. This was when I tumble into the docking bay, and the walls split open. This was when Blue Dog launched herself across the hard floor and stood bristling over me. She growled, and she revealed her teeth, and she warded the Chaos Bitch away.

... but the old cyborg didn't understand. He didn't. He believed Charumati's lie. And Blue Dog was deadly, but not impervious to everything. The rounds struck in quick volley. One - and Blue Dog grunted as the wicked fire took out her eyes. Two - and her skull exploded into vibrant red gore. Three - the round tore through her chest to expose -

NO MORE! NO MORE! I curl into a ball and push my face into the filth. NO MORE, PLEASE BLUE DOG, NO MORE!

The Dust Bunny lopes towards me to place a paw on my leg. I lift my head to view it through fog-tears, and then I fling my arms out to draw the creature tightly against my chest. Together, we face the memory... together we watch-

-as Blue Dog gives her last to protect me, and as the old cyborg sends a final blast through her chest to tear open the chamber and spill the lizard pilot onto the cold floor. She hangs precariously from the tethers binding her to her exo, and then flops like a rag doll, and all the while I watch through my child-form's eyes as her body morphs into the Being I had not seen since that fateful day when I clung to her in the ship's cockpit. My Mama Nes... my beautiful, human mother.

I scream out my soul's grief. I regret my earlier words, and want to snatch them up and gobble them back down so no one has to hear them... so my mother's Logic doesn't feel their sting, but even these haunt me, swirling inside of me-

I've got more important things to worry about other than Mama Nes. Why are you scowling at me that way?

“I am bitter.”

Because I’m not interested in sobbing my eyes out over a selfish bitch that capped her own ass instead of working shit out like a rational being? Let’s not forget that part. I remember that part clearly. It’s like on replay in my he-

“You’re an asshole, just like your father.”

Oh Omnissiah, I regret so much. I remember now. Blue Dog remembers, too. Blue Dog is incapable of forgetting. And my mother's suicide was her liberty from the things that shackled her own memories and kept her oppressed. She had never been selfish. Never. Not once.

The Dust Bunny wiggles from my arms, ears twitching this way and that as it listens to someone speaking beyond the range of my own hearing. The floor beneath it ripples to reveal a tiny door. The Dust Bunny forces it open with a single strike of its stuffed head and then drops through, right before my eyes, to vanish down a hole far too small for my body.

I panic. I'm lost lost without it. Where the fuck is it going? Wait, dammit!

"Marcus, you've outgrown me," the Dust Bunny warbles as it pokes its head through the hole to observe me with its strange golden eyes. "I'm so very proud of the man you've become. You know that, right?"

I can only hiccup and nod my head.

"And now that you remember, you must decide what to do with the rest of your life," it smiles. "You must pick yourself off this filthy floor and shake the shit from your body. Do you want to know what I recommend?"

Of course I do.

The Dust Bunny's smile broadens. "Be happy, Marcus. Use your past to spur you towards noble purpose. We are not one to helicopter parent, you know. We raised you right. We raised you to be strong, to be someone your father could be proud of. The time has come for you to be with him. But beware Rodney and Brutus, and beware the manipulations of the Council and Convocation alike. Brutus is right bastard. Got it?"

I know. But who is my-

The Dust Bunny warbles, and a vision is imparted to my mind. OH MY GOD!

"Enough of that. You'll have time to sort it later. For now, find your godling, draw her into your arms, and never let her go. Don't make the same mistakes as your father, and don't punish him for not knowing better," the Dust Bunny twitches its ears a final time, and then vanishes down the hole once more.

Wait! Come back, please! Come back, Dust Bunny! Dammit Scel! Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone! Please, Scel!

Silence.

No, not total silence. I can hear someone speaking through the hole's opening. Brother Adrastus calls to the only man I have ever called Father.


"Thaddeus..."

I hear wood groaning, and the old cyborg's voice meets my ears. "Why don't we give you a minute, Giovenith?"

Giovenith? Giovenith!

Gods damn this hole! My hands grip the edges - my adult hands, one flesh and one metallic - and I force it to expand. I've got to return to my body. I've got to emerge, to be close to her, to be with her, to hold her like my mother's Logic said. My beautiful godling with the radiant hair! My past is my past, but she is my future! The hole widens and I tumble through to find-

A simple wooden desk covered in tomes and paper stood across from her, although the heretic Magos Explorator was not occupying the heavy chair. The cloaked and hooded cyborg had retired to a short stool just inside the balcony to play his guitar. Heavy boot heel tapped out rhythm as the soft song picked up momentum and he seemed to dance as his head dipped in time to the beat. He didn’t play for the god’s benefit, although he occasionally shot a smile towards her, but to pay homage to the dragons gathering on the rocky ledges beyond their home.

The god's hand paused. Strands of hair had worked themselves free and glittered in the fading light as she shook her head at her companion. Marcus’ playful behaviors seldom manifested while he was away on missions but they always came out whenever he returned home to Giovenith. The song ended and her chalk-covered fingers cast a small pink cloud as she politely clapped.

“You returned so sullen,” Giovenith ventured a moment later, “and you’re lively once again.”

“How can I not be lively here? Unraveling external selves and discovering the mysteries of the cosmos, and coming home to our real identity and our heart’s shelter is the true meaning of soul work. I’ve reached a point in life where I’m ready to hang up my cloak and spend the rest of my days watching you work.”

Snort! Giovenith saw through his silliness. “I’d love that, but you would be bored. Then you would drive me crazy because you were bored. Then you would annoy all our friends with stories of your adventures – told, of course, because you miss the adventuring days! What news from Earth?”

Marcus smiled beneath his hood. She was always right in these matters. Organic and metal hand worked in tandem as the man’s hood lowered to reveal the small, exposed conduits playing hide and seek through his short haircut. Fingers returned to the guitar to play out a lazy ballad. Age was difficult to gauge in cyborgs but he appeared no older than a man in his forties, yet he had retained his cowlick and dimples. His eye was tired, however, and the lines of his face told of the sorrows outside the god’s sanctuary. His was a panged expression. “The Combined Earth Government has finally selected a new Minister-President. Rucker won.”

The news came as a shock to Giovenith. “It’s out of all our hands. They chose. They must live with it.” Her gown’s material whispered as she moved from her art area to comfort him. “Beloved, we knew this was coming-”

- because one day we might just sit in a white room and watch the dragons perched on the ledges beyond the window, and we'll lament politicians and mortal foolishness... we'll lament and then laugh, together, because our past has forged us into strong individuals. But this is only one possible future of many. Yet it's possible because love is the strongest force in the universe. Because my mother's love saved me from the Fungus Pool. Because my love for the godling is just as selfless, and just as pure. My godling, my delightful girl...

Gio-

_____________________________

"-ven-ith..." Marcus groaned. It was the first indication of life that he had offered since Scel had dragged him in from the Fungus Pool. Eyes darted behind closed lids as he struggled to awaken.

Dandelion

A half-intake of breath accompanied the exo's wince as the thade pressed his face to her raw skin. Her consciousness reeled as her near-incoherent mind struggled to ignore daggers and ice picks searing through her nerves. It wasn't his fault; he couldn't possibly have known. Though his condolences dimly registered in her psyche, Scel withdrew deeper into herself. She wasn't ready to face the world yet. She only sought one comfort.

Yet his touch was somehow poignant to her. Her former enemy's palms left warm trails on her skin, as did his body, and she granted herself permission to reassess her stance on a great many things.

"We hurt." The sentiment fell upon a deaf mind. Scel didn't fault Ocho for this, either. Thade were thade. Their brains were split between cranium and ass. If she recalled her xeno anatomy correctly, consciousness carried itself along a secondary nervous system entirely apart from the primary overlay found in most sentient and non-sentient beings. The knowledge didn't alleviate her angst, however.

"We hurt. Please, make it stop. Please, thade, have mercy on us. Deliver us!" A soft whine accompanied this pleading psionic push, and then the physically beleaguered exo lapsed into blessed unconsciousness once more.

Dandelion

The Building was sentient. Too often, Residents forgot that. Nameless, It was a manifestation of Demens himself. It wholeheartedly appreciated the painstaking ritual work on the part of the Luxans, but this was superfluous when its security systems were taken into account. A soft groan, and the outside walls hardened. A subtle ripple, and the window glass strengthened to withstand rock, arrow and bullet alike.

Within Its walls ran the tried-and-true Security System. Few remembered that it had a name: Bob. Implemented by Charumati (and, to some extent, Bran the Hapless Roommate), it was certainly capable of filtering out the smallest Drone zeptomite. Bob had resolved to allow nothing untoward to pass through its front doors. In times bygone, it might suck an ornery Resident right out of time and space to deposit deposit them into the dumpster outside. In those same times, it might vaporize every last atom comprising an intruder's being.

But the Building and Bob were never alone. The twisted pathways of the secondary security system nestled within the walls. This system, aptly named Morbus, permeated every last thing with the exception of those apartments that were private dimensions - the Luxan embassy, Bones' odd apartment, the Guild, the Chaos quarters. This is how it always had been. This is how it currently was. Other Minds had long ago determined that nothing - not Drone, not Chaos, not Raptor, not Cthulhu - would ever destroy the Building again.

It was the secondary system that lazily poked its head up to sniff the winds outside. Meh, ogres. Easy to tackle. Morbus queried the Building's primary system. Would the Building slap up the protective bubble?

"Yes", came Bob's snarky reply after a brief chat with the Building, "if need be, but let's not be hasty."

"We are never hasty,"

Bob would have laughed had it a mouth. Not only was Morbus not hasty - it was downright lazy. "We have new Machine Residents", it responded in an effort to make polite conversation. Indeed, it had been a long time since either security system had bothered to converse.

"We know."

Now curious, Bob opted to press an issue that had been on its mind for quite some time. "Do you intend to infect them?"

"Yes."

Well, there's something to discuss over tea! The notion amused Bob to no end. "Do tell!"

Silence followed its question. This was how it had always been. Bob, were it anything but the remnant of a chaos god, might have raised a gallant protest. But Bob was an asshole, and it thrived on conflict. "Well, if you won't tell, can you at least give us a heads-up?"

"No."

Bob's ire blossomed. "What, am I conversing with a damn Vorlon?"

Morbus' silence told Bob nothing.

"Query," came a third voice, this one belonging to the rather sequestered and browbeaten remnants of the Drone infection, "Request information regarding Nifid plans."

"Punire." Morbus cycled the Drone system through a series of paradoxical questions, silencing it and torturing it for Morbus' own amusement, and giving Bob reason to clap its metaphorical hands.

But Bob, despite being as much of an asshole as its creator, didn't come remotely close to the calculating maliciousness that was Morbus. The entity relished passing itself off as lazy and oft-benign. In was, in fact, nothing of the sort. It harbored great resentment towards any machine species - a remnant of inbred loathing for the Ba'a and Drones - and would not allow these things to pass lightly. Calle and Mandy had dwelt in the Building for quite some time, never realizing that the dust covering the back corners of their nightstands and bureaus contained microscopic creatures. The androids weren't anything interesting to Morbus, though it had taken note of a few other machine creatures that walked amongst them. But Opa? It would be good to speak with this new arrival.

Morbus had already set to work to find a means to communicate with the Confederation machine. Establishing a communications network with it would take the most time. Morbus was eternally patient.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

"I almost envy you, then. Training AND experimentation? I swear, the warriors of today are spoiled." She said, in the same tone one would take if they were complaining about teenagers and their social media. As per usual, it was hard to tell if she was making a crack at him or just a simple observation.

Crysal took some time to look over the Doctor, examining him, mostly. Once she heard what his association with Max was, it made a bit more sense. Resuming their run through the apartments, Crysal cleared her throat yet again, and continued the conversation. "Not really the type to question orders, eh? There's... something to be admired about that trait, I suppose." She muttered, as they made their way up the stairs. "I think we have much more pressing matters than making this place handicap accessible at the moment. Once we can stop worrying about constant attack, maybe then we can turn our sights to elevators."

Perhaps it'd be a good idea to talk tactics, seeing as they may be fighting alongside each other sooner or later. This new realm wasn't friendly in the slightest. Like the first city surrounded by untamed wilderness, always under constant attack from 'savages'. It was a narrative she was used to, preferred. Could always paint oneself as the hero that way. "So, I take it you're more of a firearms user? You don't strike me as much of a dyn cryf." She paused for effect. "No offense."

"Dyn what? Never mind, forget it I do not know and do not care now, what is important is if we can get our gear and get moving out. As for preferences I prefer weapons, but if need be I can kill as close up as hand-to-hand. As for questioning orders, that is none of my concern. I have a job that was given to me from birth and I will follow through and I will never question orders of my superiors. If I have concerns I will express them at a more convenient time. As you can see, this is not convenient. As for my training." Max paused for a moment he looked down at his feet, watching them keep moving up the staircase that felt as if it was never ending. He lifted his head, glaring at Crysal, "Hardly spoiled considering the training and the trials, and keeping experiments in check, especially the class Delta type, can be dangerous; life threatening."

By this time, the duo made it up to the sixth floor. Max's pace remained consistent, he barely felt the gear that was meant to burden the beast during his run.

"It's an old term for 'strong man'. As in the circus type." She said, twitching slightly. Oh, he was so unbearably DEDICATED to never questioning orders. Crysal wondered if Max wasn't just a remote controlled toy by his superiors and she was really just talking to some scientist hiding in a closet with a joystick and a microphone. Finally, they hit the sixth floor. One more and she could grab her gear.

"I'm just saying, they were controlled. I had to learn through trial and error out in the field against vastly superior forces. And lost repeatedly until I figured it out. Then again, I suppose there's quite a difference against leadership and being a glorified agent, so... suppose it's comparing apples and oranges." She scoffed. Crysal was glad she wasn't wearing her armor during the run. Well-protected as it was, the noise of clanking would drown out the conversation.

"By the way... suppose I meant to ask what sort of weapon you'd be using if things are as bad down there as I'm expecting. Just so I have a little better idea of who I'm working with."

[Giovenith]

Building

Despite all the previous reassurances, it was still hard to walk in and see Marcus in such a state. Sleeping was for cozy beds with fluffy pillows, for when you needed to be safe and somewhere familiar, not all this. The face that had given her smiles, promises of protection, and kisses was tossed off in a dream state of who knew what quality, and Giovenith felt pressure over her own powerlessness. How would she learn to deal with all that she had learned today?

Sighing, she was about to nod to the two cyborgs for the moment when a very miraculous sound came out: The last two syllables of her name. Losing her breath, Giovenith immediately looked back and forth between the bed and the adults, before dismissing any acknowledgment that might have come and gently rushing over to the bedside. Her heart pounded, and she shakily put a hand on one of his arms.

"Marcus...?"

[Giovenith]

Brit and Chrys

"AH--!"

Brit made the correct assumption that most unicorns, at least in this era, were not prepared for surprise physical attacks. Even Arrow, with her already low judgment of Brit, had at least expected the other (non-)unicorn to be in enough control of their own telekinesis to primarily rely upon it rather than charging like, like, some animal!

But that is what happened, and in the split second before Brit collided into her, Arrow was forced to make a quick decision: Wink out. Brit hit her, Arrow willed her teleportation, and in a flash, they were both gone.

It was dark where they wound up landing, and very claustrophobic. Arrow immediately untangled herself from Brit and lit up her horn to light up the room, though she quickly found that was all she could do - her magic! It was being blocked! As hard as she did to will it forward, it could not. In a panic, she used her hooves to inspect the walls, and apparently upon registering something, turned to Brit with clear anger.

"Well that's just great!" she sneered. "Look what you've done! You've trapped us in the unfinished labyrinth! Nice job breaking it, duchess."


Rache and Willow

Valoria briefly considered strangling Cloud Duster, judging herself strong and fast enough to snap his neck before any of these ponies could do anything about it, but figured her life was difficult enough without juggling the charges of murdering a Private in the streets along with everything else. Instead, she swiped the jar from him and took a swig, before looking at the group with judgmental eyes.

"It takes a day and a night to get there," she began, cracking her neck and positioning herself to a more comfortable seating. Despite her ragged state Valoria was clearly a well-built pony who had likely been once a force to reckon with, and probably still was, if she managed to actually someone the willpower to do so. "Way, way, way deep in the north-west mountains, where even the sheep and goats don't dwell. Going straight ahead will ultimately lead you to there, although you wouldn't be looking for an oasis or anything. They live right in the bare, rocky, crooked heart of mountains, and dig around in the caves."

"Would their presence there be immediately apparent, or would one have to keep an eye out?" Willow asked.

"Was obvious last time I was there," the veteran took another drink of the cider. "The buzzing trash was crawling all over the place, lounging and fighting in the open and darting in and out of their caves. Don't know about now, though. I'd be staying more inside their holes though, if I were them, with this weather."


Yuna and Aegis

"Usually about an hour or two, but honestly, I'm sure I could find a way to sneak you two out earlier than that." The secretary lead the way out of the refreshment cabin and through the snow, which had piled so high that it was now practically to the ponies' knees. Frowning, Smart Cookie ploughed through the white, occasionally doing little hops ahead to quicken her navigation. "And lucky for you, the place we usually hold the meetings also has a supply of public use wood, so you may be able to put that to use. I wouldn't recommend staying out too long though, it's cold..."

Captain Obvious. But she had a point. Night had fallen already, and although the stars of a winter black sky were always lovely, the effect of the land was more threatening than gentle and ethereal. Although the initial blizzard had calmed some, the wind was still howling in long, high, screeches. They were imposing, ever-present... and if one listened closely, a bit like conscious mimicry of the cry of the agonized.

The meeting hall was one of the furthest buildings in Groundtown. As it was also used for the occasional inter-tribal meeting, it was advantageous to keep it away from the immediate reach of the homes and businesses in case rage broke out and somepony lashed out. It was fairly packed when they entered, with a large portion of the adult population of the tribe present and socializing before business was run. Many ponies spotted Smart Cookie and greeted her with tipped hats, good evenings, and nods, though others leveled critical looks at both her and her charges, while others pointedly ignored her outright.

Somepony pulled Aegis to the side without warning.

"You look like somepony who is in need of a business!" a mare grinned, holding up a jar of black goop. "Would you like to purchase miracles?"

[Mincaldenteans]

"Might not be able to communicate with them, but I can protect those that want to try." He offered, stepping his way around the two Klingons, paying them no mind as he approached the married couple.

Bran looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place him. She started to introduce herself, but was interrupted by Opa's request for orders.

"Where can I. Be of most. Use. Sister Bela?" he intoned. Warmth projected from his arm as his plasma rifle activated, a soft glow indicating it was ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Amanda studied the robot again, taking a step backwards as heat began to roll off its peace-maker. It was tall, and heavily armed. No, those weren't the most important parts. Its shield was. "Escort. If the situation goes bad, you can provide cover for us as we get back inside. Keep your shield between us and the enemy. But wait for our orders to open fire."

The sense of purpose filled the robot with a strange feeling, though he shrugged it off and his processor decided that he was merely processing his new orders. Opa indicated he’d heard with a tip of his shield, replying, “I will hold. My fire until I. Am given orders by. You, Sister.”

Amanda accepted the choices the other Residents made, even though she didn't recognize most of them. Too many of them were speaking at once for her to sort them out anyway. If Baron Primordial did come, he'd better talk sense.

It was then that Baron Primordial ventured into the group, the gruff man chewing on a reddish breath mint as he strode into the lobby. He looked over at Cherry and Anais with an expression of both happiness and relief. Primordial was a brave soul but he liked having someone else to walk into danger with as much as any other person and the prospect of having these capable people alongside him was even more reassuring.

Trying to make himself more presentable, he grabbed up his cane and pressed it to his forehead for a moment, drinking in the sweet spiritual excretions which in order to pull some years of his face and granting him a more youthful vistage.

“Great to see you again so soon.” Primordial said to Anais and Cherry with a friendly jesting tone. The baron turned his attention to the group at large, noting Amanda, Septimus and others that were willing to join to meet their guests outside.

“Do you guys think we should take any particularly special approach to dealing with these folks? From what I know ogres typically aren't the most patient or diplomatic race and they tend to have traces of...well not to sound rude but...savagery, in their demeanor.”

“Likewise, baron,” Anais bowed her head slightly in greeting, her attention divided as the group was slowly forming to what looked to be a hasty delegation; she did not answer right away, instead gesturing for them to turn their attention to the group at large. A call for defenders to their weapons and the shout from outside would thin in patience if not responded to soon; the ritualist sincerely hoped they would be set to task rather than more debate among them.

“Ogres that can talk. In a sentence. That’s scary,” Cherry commented from Anais’ left, the riutalist could only nod in agreement to that assessment.

"What's the situation, Amanda?" Septimus saw her speaking to the crowd in the lobby and quickly made himself known, shoving past the crowd and then squeezing next to a giant robot - a new Resident, perhaps? No matter, there was a problem that needed to be dealt with first before pleasantries could be exchanged.

Amanda was relieved to hear Septimus' voice: another adult had shown up. But as he pressed in, Amanda got a better look at his face and then his clothing, and became concerned and then worried. Something was up beyond the confused mess the Ascalon trip had become, but she was out of the loop. He seemed sober, despite what he smelled like, and since she seemed to lack choices...

"There's a group of creatures nearby, and we think--"

Sandy abruptly turned from the window, catching Amanda's attention and stopping her sentence cold. He spoke rapidly, trying to spit out a warning while it still mattered. "Amanda! Ogres, fifty or more. Three of them are heading for--"

"Ruinscrashers!" the largest bellowed. "Come out, if you dare. The Har'Keth Tribe has business with you."

Amanda turned back to Septimus, exasperated by the need to respond to a complex, fast-moving set of events. "...and that would be the situation, Mr. Itum. We're on."

She looked to Primordial though spoke up to the rest of the group assembled, “Perhaps we take an unassuming approach. We know of ogres being nothing but brutes,” she gestured outside, “that one sounded a bit different, I say. We play it cautious.”

“And if they stomp?” Cherry huffed, crossing her arms, clearly not convinced this ‘talk’ was going to beneficial.

“Then we stand our ground,” Anais declared, having caught Amanda’s previous comment to Opa and agreeing to it. Force wasn’t what she wanted, but neither was being flattened by their feet.

“I see,” Septimus scratched his head, eyes slightly widened from the bellowing of the beasts and bits of disheveled hair poking out from his usually well-kept spikes. A slight belch left him and he turned away to disperse the breath, reeking of whiskey, before continuing, “Big problems, and lots of them.”

Opa quickly identified the disheveled newcomer as Brother Septimus Itum, the blacklisted former Confederation Board Member. Electing to say nothing for the moment, but realizing that defending this area was now his primary objective until Septimus could be brought to a safer one, the robot resolved to stay near the Representative for the duration of this escapade.

"Hmm, perhaps they've come for a good reason?" Rodney peered around Amanda in order to stare out the front door glass. He lapsed back into contemplative silence soon after.

Amanda gave him a deadpan stare: yeah, they'd better have a good reason. "I'd like to think so. You're on too. It's time to talk; we're supposed to be good at that." Amanda looked over the various volunteers, and then to Septimus. "Pardon me, Mr. Itum, I think we should act with some speed." She turned to Anais and Cherry: "You and you, please come with--"

Sandy cut her off again, much calmer. "Dear, this is Anais and Cherry, of Dwayna’s Vigilant, the guild on the eighth floor I mentioned. We were planning when the alarm came in. Anais, Cherry? This is my wife, Amanda."

The ritualist gazed upon Amanda and bowed her head, with only a slight murmur from Cherry to acknowledge Sandy’s wife. To anyone else, it was a polite greeting. To Anais, it meant no world of good in the mesmer’s books. Necessity called for focus on the present and Anais went straight to topic, “My guild are set to join us outside. I believe Alexia has spoken to those…”

She pointed at the Klingons who had only listened on rather than input anything of note, so far. She continued, “And they are willing to accompany us as well.

"Maghrl with with diplomatic team" the squib jedi told the rest firmly, stepping behind the man wearing epaulets since he seemed to be taking the lead.

Sandy agreed with Maghrl, nodding as he did so. "Yes, take Maghrl, he's a Jedi." Amanda's gaze darted to Sandy, completely stunned. "A... Jedi??"

Klingons, and now Jedi? She had no idea what to think. Sandy explained for the others’ benefit, tossing his head uncertainly as he tried to figure out what to say. "He's a ... holy warrior. Amanda and I ... knew of his religion, but didn't expect to ever meet one. I was talking to him at the feast. He should be a good person to take. He's a healer as well."

"You don't know me."

His shoulders rolled back in a shrug, the red-star pins holding his epaulets on rose with them, as he turned back to look out the window. Business with them? Had the building pissed off any Ogres recently? Bran let out another sigh, and quickly popped the magazine from the gun, checking to make sure it was loaded.

"So, who goes out there?" He asked.

“May I suggest,” Septimus interjected, “That we establish a clear chain-of-command. As I am not in the best of shape right now and Mrs. Bela appears to have awareness of the situation, I suggest that she take over the current mission with us serving as her fellows. Would that suffice?”

Primordial nodded in agreement. “Sound like a very good idea to me. Should we explain that we are new and try to act friendly and accommodating unless they get violent?”

Anais shook her head, not liking the idea of divulging more than was necessary. Omitting facts wasn’t lying, per se, just a matter of not exposing themselves if they could help it. “Best we don’t explain ourselves unless asked for it. We present ourselves, and ask what has befallen to prompt their presence. By saying we’re new, we open ourselves to accusation; best we play their words against them.”

She turned her attention to the Klingons and her guildmates. Alexia quickly gave their odd names and she offered a small smile as she called them, “Mezran and Tavana, please join with Reyna and Erick and everyone else. If you could, please pair yourselves and stand by the doorway.”

Mezran understood and nodded. Tavana on the other hand, had other comments to offer Bran and sneered at him with a feral grin, “It has bark, but does it have teeth. Care to find out?”

“yImev!” Mezran barked at her. Tavana huffed, ignoring Mezran and left to toying Bran with a smirk as she crossed her arms and refocused her attention toward Anais who continued.

“Traxt, Alexia and Cherry, you’re behind them.” She looked at the group, “Alexia is a healer, Traxt and Cherry are spellcasters, they’ll provide support from afar, it is best they stay clear of the ogres at all possible. My other friends will provide defense as needed but away from the talks. We don’t want to provoke them; but I see no reason not to show strength.”

“I’m going with you!” The mesmer protested with a hiss.

“No,” the ritualist shook her head, “Stand with Alexia and Traxt.” Anais offered a tender smile, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

The mesmer huffed and pushed past her and Primordial to stand by her other guildmates. Another issue for another time, Anais noted to herself. “We will be small in number to talk to them, but it be best if you were all ready should things go awry. Please be by the door, but do not come out unless warranted. I think it’ll be clear when we need the help.”

“What is my. Position in the. Formation. Sister?” Opa unrolled his back armor to allow a gaunt, mechanical hand to emerge and tap on Anais shoulder, “Shall I cover. The back of. The formation? My capabilities are. Long-ranged as. Well as in. Close combat.”

Anais thought about it for a moment, the odd construct was the first true mechanical being she had ever laid eyes upon. She didn’t know which but from the look of his metal plating, Opa looked sturdy. Perhaps not the back team if his tough exterior was anything to go by. She looked at the Klingons and her team, a hulking figure like Opa would benefit them, “If you could, please join Erick’s team. I’m sure they could use an extra hand if we are attacked.”

Opa offered a slight tip of his shield before retreating from the diplomatic group to join Brother Mezran and Sister Tavana with the other defenders staying in the Building. His processor questioned this move - Septimus was, after all, going out to meet the imminent threat. However, the combat android concluded that, given Septimus’ apparent status in this tenement, the disgraced Brother knew what he was doing. No sense in provoking conflict now.

“Would this be fine with everyone?’ Anais asked the group; time wasn’t on their side and the ogres were likely not going to wait for long.

The Luxan Baron moved to stand next to Septimus and then turned to look around the room one final time trying to take in the variety of names and roles that were being given to people he had only just met. The company of someone like Septimus was enjoyable because at least he was a person that he felt he knew reasonably well. Primordial then nodded to Anais “Sounds fine with me. Lets try not to leave our guests waiting too long.”

“Gentlemen, ladies, shall we?” Septimus gestured at the imposing giants on the front lawn of the Building, rubbing his tired eyes as he added, “Hopefully, Demens hasn’t sent us more than we can chew.”

Anais nodded in silence, taking a deep breath as she gripped her staff tightly in one hand and walked out with Septimus, Amanda and Primordial.

[New Aksarben]

The flurry of activity in the lobby was a tiny bit disorienting, but like humans seemed to be good at, organization soon came out of the chaos. Squib tended to do the same of course, but their version of order was pretty much chaos with a few suggestions. There was a reason the translation for their government was the Squib Polyanarchy after all.

Maghrl was glad he voiced his choice to go with the delegation when he could. Jedi were trained as diplomats anyway. Though Maghrl's training did have plenty of lessons in diplomacy, most of it had been more for a mechanist sort of pursuit to go along with his built up interest in the field. He'd often helped padawans on their transition to knighthood by teaching them how to properly construct a lightsaber, though many of the ones not familiar with his accent and manner of speaking. Besides that he'd helped with programming and building drones to help around Jedi enclaves and temples, and various other things. But besides that he did know the basics of diplomacy as a Jedi.

"Maghrl will help first defense line. Best Squib not to do diplo-talky. As beings tell, Maghrl not best Basic-talker, you bet." Hopefully they understood what he said, with his high-pitched voice and all. Oh and the fact he spoke at a ridiculous pace. His ear twitched and his whiskers trembled slightly at the term 'warrior' though. He looked up at Sandy with a tiny about of indignation, and shook his head.

"No no no no. Jedi no warrior. Jedi closer to Basic-term Monk. We Jedi know fighty-fight but use word-speech instead. Trained Diplowise too! But Like Squib-say beforewise, Best somebeing with grasp-good on Basic be main diplo-talker." He tried speaking a bit slower, to make sure that everyone heard him well enough. It was annoying to repeat himself.

"Though. Maghrl get dib-call if Ogre want trade. Squib excellent Trader-species! Biggies don't see us threatening, so we get best deals!" That and they tended to be a bit conniving when they wanted something. However they kept deals to the letter, or death.

The Squib jedi had also noticed Opa the moment he'd entered the lobby, and was slightly awestruck. Battledroid tech was a bit of a neglected field since the Clone Wars of his galaxy, partly as the Emperor had not wanted private armies of droids wandering around so he'd outlawed them. As a result the obviously advanced droid was immediately interesting to Maghrl. He'd definitely ask about him later to see if he could get the honor of helping to keep him in top shape, and learn how he ticked. Though, best case scenario he could haggle him away from whoever owned him... But not now. Right now the pressing matter of the ogre's called.

And so Maghrl made his way a bit closer, intent on keeping his eye on the group heading out to talk. He kept his lightsaber at the ready, his other at his hip in case he needed it, thinking softly against the pouch next to it. The small Jedi was actually planning, if needed, to rush out to save the group, or use his control of the force to pull them back if needed. Or at least he hoped he could do that. It would be terrible if they died. But hopefully they could solve this without any bloodshed, or smashing up the building. Maghrl peered out of the door to the outside, to him it appearing like a see-through plasteel door, with thicker metal framing. Relatively common for an apartment block front door in his universe, and let him see the group that was heading to meet the ogres.

"Maghrl wish know who in charge of door-block defending?" He wasn't sure if in the confusion someone had either been appointed or self-appointed to being in charge of their defense of the building or them. Either way, it would be good to have a bit of hierarchy inside the lobby.

[Primordial Luxa]

Aegis

Aegis was pleased to hear that the village had a good supply of wood which he could draw on for this esoteric arts and crafts project and their ability sneak out once things got underway was also fortunate to hear. “This sounds like a great plan Smart Cookie. Me and Yuna will depart once you give us some sort of signal. Do you have a specific location which we should build this symbol? Perhaps a crop field that's a little bit distant? You mentioned there are some empty houses if one of those has a vacant lot nearby perhaps we could also stay in that house?”

Aegis was suddenly cut off by the strange mare who pulled him aside. He snarled in visible distress ready to fight another lyncher who was bent on removing outsiders. However instead he seemed to be encountering some sort of sales pony, but this didn't lessen his suspicions. He inspected the black goop in the jar very thoroughly since where he came come jars filled with strange liquids usually had incredibly useful abilities and properties. However he simply replied “I’m sorry miss that seems very interesting but I don’t have any money.”

[Swith Witherward]

Building

Giovenith's warm touch drew Marcus from the foggy recesses of his mind. His head shifted on the pillow, slowly rolling towards the sound of her voice. An eyelid cracked and the eye immediately watered as the room's air bathed it. Senses emerged as if flicked on a switch at a time. Rubbing alcohol swirled with the sweet scent of artist's supplies, and his fat tongue tasted copper and almonds. The eyelid opened more to take in her fuzzy outline. A thousand words sprang to his tongue and he struggled to choose one.

"Hey..." It was all he could manage. Hardly intelligent, but for once Marcus didn't care if he sounded stupid.

The cybernetic eye booted itself seconds later, allowing him to better survey the godling's concerned face. She should be worrying. She had so many other - better - things to do with her time. She should be laughing with Kale and Drova, breaking bread with them in the dining room. Wasn't there a feast? Why was she in his room?

The mechanical eye looked beyond her. Okay, why was his father and the abbot in his room?

Not my father, he reminded himself that the dubious honor belonged to someone else, but he's just as good as one. Scel had laid his past bare; Marcus had never loved the old cyborg more than in that very instant.

Things quickly fell into place. This wasn't his room. The bed was too firm, and the lights too bright. He had gone out, and made a very foolish judgement call. But all was right. No, better than right. The organic eye locked onto Giovenith's own beautiful irises. Yeah, life was excellent.

A dry tongue tip flickered out in an attempt to moisten his parched upper lip. "Gioven... made a candle-" his eye pinched closed as he recalled more of his actions prior to leaving the Building "-to say sorry. I'm... an ass. I made you a candle. It's on...door. I'm sorry. Such an ass. Tell Drova... sorry."


Rache and Willow

Rache memorized the veteran's words. The directions were straightforward. It wouldn't be too difficult to find the area, provided the words were true and the weather not too grim.

"Thank you, Valoria," the daemonpony bowed his head respectfully. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, but you've helped me recall some lost moments. I appreciate your time."

His gaze met Willow's. It was time to go before Cloud Duster could mock the old mare further. He wouldn't leave Valoria empty-hoofed, however. Rache drew upon a bit of Hans' insanity, allowing it to work through him in order to leave her with a small gift - a fresh apple carefully tucked under the wadded cloth she used for her pillow.

"Let's go."


Lobby

Rodney kept a steady eye on the trio as they departed the Building to stand on the stoop. Yeah, good luck with that! The Nifid opted to reclaim his favorite chair by the window. If fireworks were going to fly, he wanted a front row seat.

His brow lifted. Would shit go down? Hmm. Rodney cast his thoughts outward in an effort to scan the ogres' surface emotions.

[The BranRiech]

"I'm not scared of you. We're on the same side, I don't owe you the pleasure of finding out." Bran snapped back, his lips curling into a slight grin as he moved towards the doorway, glancing outside at the group that was slated to head out there. Despite the calmness of the man's demeanor, his heart was pounding, like it did every time he was in danger. It really was a surprise that the slim young man had survived all those years, competing with Gods and Demons, monsters and fantastical beings, all in the same day, every day, for several years. He hadn't yet found himself as the snack of some cosmic being, hadn't yet found himself run through with some soul-sucking sword, and hadn't yet simply been killed. There was that one time though, his brief brush with mortality, and also, that time when Naomi almost murdered them all.

Bran shook his head, trying not to let those thoughts in. The more someone thought about death, and how one hadn't died yet, the more it felt like he had a chance of buying the farm. His hands clutched the rifle like a drowning man held onto a life-preserver in a violent wave.

The young man declined to say anything else to the Klingons, however, as he stood there by the door. He looked over at them, trying to judge their reactions to what he'd said. They were all residents, and there was no point in fighting within them. He didn't really know the culture of the Klingons either, and if he did, the ex-conscript would probably be a bit more careful about who he picked to unload his snark upon.

[Stormwrath]

"Demens…" Macy felt like she needed to listen to the middle-aged woman in the room—since she seemed to know a lot about this place. Apparently, the landlord that Amanda mentioned had some kind of personal dimension of sorts, and that he transported this apartment into it. This was eye-opening to Macy, as until now she had thought that she was teleported to some other place on Earth. Guess this place wasn't Earth at all.

But another dimension? It seemed to be absurd. After all, it was outside of what the Palmarians knew about spacetime and the laws of physics in general. And yet, there she was inside of it.

But before the android could ask more questions, the voice of a distraught man resonated in the hallway outside. The man cried out words like "alarm" and "to arms"—sometimes pounding on the doors of the apartment rooms. Alarm? What was this? Did a fire break out? Did people from outside break in? Macy didn't completely understand what was going on. Amanda's explanation of the situation didn't certainly help. "Fight?" she asked. "Fight what?"

The others didn't seem to give her answers, and their goal right now appeared to be reaching the lobby or the hospital—wherever the medical place was. The group exited the apartment and into the hallway, with Amanda locking the door behind her. They began to make their way in the direction of the elevator, but Macy turned around and dashed in the other direction—entering into her apartment room to look for something she could use to fight the unknown attackers. Slamming the door behind her, she moved her head left and right, frantically searching for a weapon. Thank goodness she didn't mount the sword (and accompanying sheath) on the wall yet. With the sword in hand she rushed out of her room and locked the door.

Since the elevator already left, she ran towards the stairs and rushed down to the lobby to meet up with everyone else there. There were many people that showed up here—people of all shapes, sizes and species. So these must be many of the residents of the Building, she stood in amazement. A man asked for some of them to help him bring out all the available weapons and ammo in the garage. "Guess it's going to be a big fight," Macy muttered to herself. She followed Romulus to the garage with a few others, and began to help out in passing the machine guns and ammo belts along.

[Tiltjuice]

Left to her own devices, Dora strolled casually down the staircase. The stone steps clicked under her thick-soled boots and she stopped in the turn of the stairwell. A pale-pink hand lifted slowly, and pressed against the cool stone. Just for a moment; but for that moment the crispness of the marble, so much like the magnificent interiors of her erstwhile order, streaked her palm with agony.

She yanked it back hastily and examined her palm for a few moments, but the only smoke in the chamber came from her cigarette. No mark marred her skin.

She slinked down, another half-flight. The hospital floor unfolded, Ogoti nowhere in sight, but Malaise the daemonette in her nurse's attire stood behind the counter. The daemonette looked up as a white tendril drifted past, and without further comment Dora wet her fingertips and pinched out the little white cylinder.

"I suspect we'll be joined by a few others shortly...apparently there's a group of ogres outside," the redhead confided, watching a suddenly nonplussed Malaise blink. So saying, her head turned down to continue regarding the surface of her hand.

[Fvaarniimar]

Rmwtyliin's head hurt.  Hot.  I think I need water.  The faucets were safe, but heading all the way up to her apartment to use one... Impulsively, she pressed the button for the kitchen-and-emergency-hospital floor. I likely will go there like last time so it is not really the wrong area and I will not be helpful if I pass out.. I guess I need food. I last ate... At least two-fifths of the day ago.  She'd nibbled on nuts, of course... However, it seemed that she hadn't nibbled on enough nuts.  I think it is okay to see to my own needs.  In any case it was a bit late for Rmwtyliin to change her mind - she had stepped out of the elevator.  A few people buzzed about the dining room; an abandoned set of dishes were picked up from the counter before Rmwtyliin, realizing they were dirty, grabbed a glass and a bowl from the cupboard.

Gulping the cool water, she allowed herself to briefly consider her meal.  Combining some barley with the nuts would make a pleasantly filling dish, but that would take too long - assuming there was any down here.  She'd spotted some in her pantry that morning. Hunks of firm cheese and bread could be eaten on the way... Maybe with fruit.  Fruit sounded good.

Finding the foodstuffs proved a little easier said than done.  Bread slices - some of those ends few want - took the place of hunks.  The same was true of the cheese; finding a whole/nonmessy, smallish fruit proved a little more difficut, but a plum and a few grapes sufficed.

Most of the meal had been devoured when Rmwtyliin exited the stairs (an elegant spiral staircase from her perspective) and entered the lobby.  With a less-than-ladylike burp, she started looking for Sandy.  Fortunately, she quickly proved curious enough to move towards a window - and she spotted the sorcerer on the way. Quickly changing course, the girl arrived, bursting out, "I am so sorry for my lateness!" She bent down as she spoke, setting her bowl on the floor. "Um. I cannot do the incredible things some here can. I can bind wounds, splint, and give herbs I understand." She smiled nervously. "Will this help?" It had seemed to help somewhat last time, but there had been so many to treat that almost anyone could have proved useful.

Meanwhile, Nick had dragged himself away from his litterbox and, having groomed the rest of his body, was now braving the butt. From the faces he made, it wasn't going very well.

[Monfrox]

Brit sat back and shook her head. Well, physical contact certainly could jar someone a bit more than she thought. It always looked so easy in video games and movies. She looked to Arrow when the light shone around them. And then she tried to place the fault on her.

"Oh hell no. We wouldn't be in here if someone, I'm not gonna name names or anything but ahem, you, didn't try to play sneak attack and drive me into a corner! I'm not one to sit and play the blame game, but I guess that means more to you right now then us getting out of here alive."

Brit spat venomously with her words, not appreciating Arrow's tone nor her previous actions in the slightest. She punctuated her voice by giving her a face that read "go ahead, say something else, I dare you".

[Mincaldenteans]

Back in the lobby, Sterling nodded to Dan. "While I don't know much medicine, telekinesis would be useful in getting supplies around I'd say. Lead the way Dan." Sterling smiled weakly up to the fae before nodding. The pony glanced out the door nervously, still pawing at the floor with his hoof nervously. But then the pony shook his head and stopped his overtly nervous actions, and smiled brighter. "Okay, I'm ready to go!"

Dan gave a reassuring smile, "It'll be fine. You can stick with me if you want, or lend a hand anywhere that the healers need." He gestured for the elevator to the hospital. Moving together, fae and pony were in the elevator rather quickly, since a large contingent stood by the door and a few others with Romulus, including Hunter, that left to gather weapons as the General directed. The summer fae thought of the last emergency they had, how frantic it was. This one wouldn't have villages to worry about, but the pressure was all the same. He exhaled lightly, "Although I've never formally met him, I know Sandy's the leader of the healers, so if he places you in a certain area to assist, listen to him. Others may call on you also: use your best judgment. It can get pretty stressful, but I'm sure you'll do fine, Sterling, just keep your ears peeled!"

[Cerillium]

BIOGARDEN/LOBBY

Ocho gave the exo a final caress, then rose to peer towards the far door. Nobody had emerged yet. Very well. It was time to knock sense into the asshole politician. He stepped away and loped back the way he came, emerging from the apartment moments later to find FUBAR humming to itself. The TerrorDrone focused on the thade, weapon still at ready, before returning to its soft song.

"Something amuse you?" Ocho's nose wrinkled as he sniffed at the machine.

"The Building is amused." This reply came not from the Drone, but from Amara. Her stiletto heels' sharp toks! heralded her presence as she stepped from the shadows by the stairs. "Morbus as well," she continued in her sultry monotone, "but we have other business. Going to the lobby?"

The thade grunted, a noise that Amara took as affirmation. She trailed behind him, patiently waiting as he loped up the stairs, and then the pair joined the rest gathered by the windows.

Rodney's curiosity revealed that the ogres' mood varied from frustrated to angry, though he couldn't ascertain what the anger could be leveled at. The three in front of the door lacked any good humor, a fact that wouldn't be lost on the Nifid. They were, in fact, a bit offended. Ogres can count.


The winter breeze and the parlay groups' soft breathing punctuated the stony silence between Residents and ogres. A few determined snowflakes kissed noses and shoulders. The smallest ogre lifted a brow at the largest.

Perhaps the Ruinscrashers were slow? One did have metal and glass for an eye. Obviously the male had suffered a crushing blow to his skull. The other was a female sans any weapons. Who does that? It was entirely possible the Ruinscrashers mistook them for orcs, and thus the woman was a slave offering. Feh. The small ogre's eyes continued the slide down the line, perching for a second on the female with a staff. Hm. Their shaman, maybe. Several of the group had magic flavors coating them. Mostly, it radiated from the final male. And still the silence reigned.

"They don't know shit about diplomatic decorum, Möf," the small shaman softly hissed as he leaned towards the biggest ogre. He had finally grown tired of waiting for the Ruinscrashers to greet them. "Might as well forego the niceties and get to the point."

The large ogre was already thinking along those lines. Shaman, grizzled warrior, slave, plain human. A bevy of idiots lined the windows beyond them, exposing themselves to arrow and bullet alike, with the emotions on the faces ranging from fear to alertness to general apathy. They were a mixed bag of varied species and, judging from their attire and the weapons in their hands, they were probably as inept as Ascalonfolk. He rolled his eyes.

"Which one of you men is the actual chieftain, reigh, senator, king, president, or whatever-the-fuck you want to call him?" he set his arms akimbo and glared at all four, "Because I haven't got all night, and I'm not in any mood for talking with your mouthpiece. I am Knednar, Möf of the Har'Keth Tribe, and I will speak only to your chieftain."


HOSPITAL
"Are they good ogres or bad ogres?" Ogoti's face peered intently at Dora from the other side of a high counter. "And hello there, Dora. It's been a while since I've seen you. Been well?"

He rose and shooed Malaise into action, dispatching her to turn on exam bay lights and check on supplies. "I suppose the other healers will join us shortly?"


GARAGE

Those that had gone to gather ammo and other supplies would find the crates neatly stacked along the wall. The truck was, of course, locked.

[The BranRiech]

Yuna

"Ugh . . ."

What a waste of time. Yuna didn't really want to attend the town-meeting to begin with, and now Aegis was being accosted by some snake-oil salespony. The streets of the Pyersai's home-city was home to many salespeople just like this Pony, and it was one of the things every Pyrsai learned from a young age, with the exception of the Royal brother and sister, who weren't even allowed out into the city on their own most of the time.

Yuna remembered spending a good amount of money at these places back when she first ventured out of the palace, and regretted her purchases every time, when a potion turned out to just be water, or some juice. She knew to avoid salespeople from that point on, or at least ones selling liquid that was said to do one too many things.

"Aegis, right? Aegis, come on. We have to go, and then find a field?"

Their plan! Right, they had a plan. Was Yuna freaking out too much? "Actually, well, I think uh, we might be good."

Bran

Bran ducked down a little more, trying to put as much of his body behind a wall as possible as the Ogres called out for their leader. Did the building have a chieftain? They weren't about to have Demens popping up out of nowhere to vouch for them, so who was going to go in their place? The little diplomatic crew seemed to be in danger, as the Ogres weren't all too accepting of it. "C'mon . . . Just go away, or tell us what you want." The man whispered to himself, hoping the Ogres couldn't hear is idle musings.

"Fuck."

He looked down, and flicked at a switch on his gun, actually flipping the safety off.

[New Aksarben]

Back in the lobby, Sterling nodded to Dan. "While I don't know much medicine, telekinesis would be useful in getting supplies around I'd say. Lead the way Dan." Sterling smiled weakly up to the fae before nodding. The pony glanced out the door nervously, still pawing at the floor with his hoof nervously. But then the pony shook his head and stopped his overtly nervous actions, and smiled brighter. "Okay, I'm ready to go!"

Dan gave a reassuring smile, "It'll be fine. You can stick with me if you want, or lend a hand anywhere that the healers need." He gestured for the elevator to the hospital. Moving together, fae and pony were in the elevator rather quickly, since a large contingent stood by the door and a few others with Romulus, including Hunter, that left to gather weapons as the General directed. The summer fae thought of the last emergency they had, how frantic it was. This one wouldn't have villages to worry about, but the pressure was all the same. He exhaled lightly, "Although I've never formally met him, I know Sandy's the leader of the healers, so if he places you in a certain area to assist, listen to him. Others may call on you also: use your best judgment. It can get pretty stressful, but I'm sure you'll do fine, Sterling, just keep your ears peeled!"

The pony was a bit nervous about getting on the elevator, he had yet to be able to discern what kind of magic or mechanical principles it worked on, that's why he always used the stairs. But he kept this concern down for now. Though he did a pretty crap job at doing it, his legs quaking and whole body shivering slightly from trepidation as he stepped in behind Dan. Though the pony did his best to overcome his bit of an irrational fear of the device, breathing slowly and closing his eyes while it was in motion. Though he did open one eye to look up at Dan to continue their conversation properly.

"Sandy? I met him a bit earlier before we came over to talk to you. He's pretty nice, it'll be good to get to know more about him. He did seem a good leader though too. I'll make sure to listen to him, sure. And thank you for the vote of confidence, I hope I can learn to help people more. I hope everyone who's not a fighter's got to safety though, it would be terrible if someone died..."

He frowned and sighed, relaxing enough now as they rode the elevator up. Well, it wasn't so bad riding this thing, though it was still super weird.

[Germanic Templars]

Drova's wings twitched, the thought of popping in unannounced like he was was staggering. Was he not in the right mind? His thoughts remained private as he poked through the door. "Did you hear the shouting?" He asked rather directly, his voice regaining some of the smoothness to it. Come to think of it, Drova's voice was always rather smooth. If he was in a choir, the boy could easily sing tenor with no problem, and (If Drova were to wager), he'd be able to sing quite well if he put the effort in.

Besides the point, the Pyersai Prince ducked into the play-room, considering he had been invited by then, Thriller's tired ramblings allowing the Prince no qualms about bursting in uninvited. "Someone ran through the halls, shouting "Rouse! Rouse!" He tried copying the German accent.

His hands were idle for the moment, but not long as he stood in the doorway, one hand gripped on the handle of his sword, and the other clearing a strand or two of hair from his vision. He'd done it so much, that the motion was second-nature to him by then. He cursed his culture's acceptance of long-hair, for that one reason enough that one of the most-performed actions was the keeping of one's hair.

"I was wondering if you'd heard it, and came in to ask." Drova said, pointing back towards the hallway.

Was this the first time he'd failed to introduce himself? He figured he'd rather stick with the tradition, considering how awkward he felt in his current situation.

Thriller rolled off the table, forgetting the hazardous he made prior to going to sleep on the counter. His hard thud was drowned out by the clanging of metal accompanied by what sounded like glass breaking.

“Ah! Son-of-a-bitch!” Thriller cried allowed.

A moment of silence pass before another response from the emperor. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

The slow shuffling of feet made their way to the doorway to the mech room. Soot, grease, and other mechanical fluids stained Thriller’s coat as well as his forehead; a testament to his insolvency to his mechanical skills. A tired eye, sagging and bloodshot from countless hours of awakeness looked at the Prince with indifference. “So, a Nazi, or German screaming through the halls.. You know I feel as if that is a typical thing around this place, but i’ll take it for something important. And to answer your question, no I have not. Sound does not travel that well into the mech room surprisingly, so any noise in the hall is near to inaudible for me.”

"Dyn what? Never mind, forget it I do not know and do not care now, what is important is if we can get our gear and get moving out. As for preferences I prefer weapons, but if need be I can kill as close up as hand-to-hand. As for questioning orders, that is none of my concern. I have a job that was given to me from birth and I will follow through and I will never question orders of my superiors. If I have concerns I will express them at a more convenient time. As you can see, this is not convenient. As for my training." Max paused for a moment he looked down at his feet, watching them keep moving up the staircase that felt as if it was never ending. He lifted his head, glaring at Crysal, "Hardly spoiled considering the training and the trials, and keeping experiments in check, especially the class Delta type, can be dangerous; life threatening."

By this time, the duo made it up to the sixth floor. Max's pace remained consistent, he barely felt the gear that was meant to burden the beast during his run.

"It's an old term for 'strong man'. As in the circus type." She said, twitching slightly. Oh, he was so unbearably DEDICATED to never questioning orders. Crysal wondered if Max wasn't just a remote controlled toy by his superiors and she was really just talking to some scientist hiding in a closet with a joystick and a microphone. Finally, they hit the sixth floor. One more and she could grab her gear.

"I'm just saying, they were controlled. I had to learn through trial and error out in the field against vastly superior forces. And lost repeatedly until I figured it out. Then again, I suppose there's quite a difference against leadership and being a glorified agent, so... suppose it's comparing apples and oranges." She scoffed. Crysal was glad she wasn't wearing her armor during the run. Well-protected as it was, the noise of clanking would drown out the conversation.

"By the way... suppose I meant to ask what sort of weapon you'd be using if things are as bad down there as I'm expecting. Just so I have a little better idea of who I'm working with."

"I would not call myself strong, but more physically fit as I should be." Max pointed out, despite not knowing what a circus was or even these "strong men" were.

Max stopped between the sixth and seventh floor not to catch his breath, however. "Whatever I need to win. Knives, rifles, rope, my own teeth. Maybe a grenade or two. One lesson I will share with you is this: If you are fighting a fair fight, you are wrong."

The dog rolled his shoulders, providing a sound popping in his back. "Ah, better. Now, plan wise, I am going to the roof and provide over watch on the situation. You can join if you want, or you can get killed, either way it doesn't matter to me." Max peered up the stairs and back at Crysal, "Now if you don't mind, I am on the eighth floor. We can talk later."

[Giovenith]

Building

The godling stifled a laugh and cry all at once, cupping her hands over her nose and mouth and trying to fight back budding tears. Her brave boy! Her star mate! She had flashbacks to when they'd first gotten together, that first Valentine's Day, when she'd been in a similar position as now, hovering above him and begging his eyes to open. She also remembered the future vision, how the Giovenith of the future referenced going significant time without him, and thus the preciousness of their time together. So this was just how it was going to be then?

"Oh," she sighed, gently putting her hands on the sides of his face, and pressing her forehead down on his. "You are a... butt! What on earth am I going to do with you?"

She wasn't really angry. She couldn't be. It was him, her little Tin Man, her best friend, her future. She kissed him. The first kiss she initiated, she stayed there for a good while, before breaking off and whispering: "Thaddeus told me... about you."


Brit

Arrow's hoof bopped Brit on the nose.

"I may have jumped upon you, but I did so the proper way, with magic!" she held her hoof close in indignation. "You are the one who degraded yourself by acting like a ruffian! Disgraceful! But then what would I expect?" She leaned in close and sneered. "You are not even a real unicorn. I might consider this... shapeshifting, blasphemy! If I had not more important things to do!"

Suddenly she turned around, giving Brit a slap with the back of her cloak, and began to trot on ahead, taking her light source with her. She dragged a hoof along the wall beside her.

"Your magic will not work much more than mine here, so I'd recommend you follow," she called back. "If I cannot take you out of my way, then I might as well educate you about your options."

Brit was completely and totally warranted in possibly viewing Arrow as a terrible, terrible, full-of-self pony.


Yuna and Aegis

"NONSENSE!"

The salespony apparently had little respect for "No" or personal space, as she insistently pulled Aegis into the crowd against his will and Yuna's polite protests. Smart Cookie had trotted too far ahead and was wrapped up in some business, so she didn't notice her charges being accosted by the scam master.

"Let me introduce myself!" the mare went on with much flourish. "You may call me Moolisa Royale Featherbed North Ala’Ding Dong Marie the Sixteenth, I am a salesfilly extraordinaire, entrepreneur, and inventor! This is my latest invention, I call it... Liquid Ebony!"

Lies! Familiar lies... but lies nonetheless. She found it in a ditch nearby, nopony in town believed her amazing stories, but surely this forest pony would!

"STRAIGHT from the heart of a pure fanatic of this beautiful Mother Earth!" Moolisa wrapped an arm around Aegis' shoulders. "I have poured my heart and SOUL into this work! Miracles come from the heart, and miracles will come from it! You need not even money!" She snapped Aegis' shoulders and smashed her face into his, looking him dead in the eye. "WE CAN MAKE ANY PRICE! Tricks from your forest home perhaps? THERE ARE MANY A THINGS TO EXCHANGE! Name your price! NAME IT!" She gave an overly excited fool's smile.


Rache and Willow

Willow and Pansy exchanged looks but set off to begin following Rache back home. Cloud Duster stayed still only to make good on his promise, unloading the other cider jar, but was without warning had his person suddenly snatched and dragged over closer to the alley by Valoria. The resulting gasp caused the other two to turn around and briefly moved to snatch him back, but thought better of it, looking on in cringing worry.

"I haven't heard anything about you properly honoring Thistle Whistle's sacrifice," Valoria growled at him, her hooves just around his neck enough to keep him in place though not enough to actually hurt him.

Cloud Duster didn't seem terribly threatened, though he wasn't exactly challenging her either. He just took on that blank, straight, glassy-eyed look that Pansy had noticed before he tended to produce. "The gravestone makers are never terribly concerned about ponies less than twenty-five summers," he said in a neutral, inoffensive tone, something they conveyed submission but nonetheless lacked a kind of sincerity. A comparison finally came to Pansy's mind: It was the same act 6-year-olds put on when being yelled at. The, 'Maybe if I stare the grown-up straight in the eye and just respond as quietly and carefully as possible, they'll think I actually give a shit and eventually just run out of words and let me go' act.

"Excuses!" Valoria snapped, giving the teen a slight shake. "You've always had them, as steadily as the mountains provide rocks. Take one of those rocks, carve one yourself if it comes to that."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do something worthy

"Of course, ma'am."

"Your mother was done with you and so am I!"

"I see, ma'am."

Realizing quickly that there was no sense trying to hopelessly beat the concept of shame into Cloud Duster's impenetrably dull sensibilities, Valoria tossed the Private aside, who hopped/flew to a position of safety back beside his companions. He shook it off like a stumble and turned around to casually trot back the way they came, leaving Silvershields to her alley. Pansy and Willow soon followed.

"I'm going to be honest," Willow said, catching up with Cloud Duster. "That sounded like some awkward shit, and I'm not going to bother asking and getting involved."

Cloud Duster gave a smile. "Hey, I'm glad you understand me!" Then dropped the smile and withdrew within himself seemingly to think.

Pansy wasn't concerned about any of that. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she flew over the two and took a trot next to Rache, overcoming her intimidation to speak up: "Rache, I don't want you to go," she suddenly begged. "What if you don't come back? My mother never came back from that place, what if it happens to you too?"