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

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Giovenith
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Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Fri Jan 29, 2016 12:43 am

Brit and Chrys

A folded paper smacked Brit in the face. It was a professional doctor's notice by Arthur, stamped across with big red letters, 'LOST CAUSE'.

"You can get out yourself, or I can call in the cultists to drag you out," Willow snapped, dropping back to his chair. "Why would I want to waste any more of my time on some sad little girl with nothing to offer the world?"

A black tendril suddenly materialized and shot up from the ground, wrapping itself around Brit's wrist and tugging roughly at her. The pony artist didn't seem to notice or care.

"Probably the worst part is how you got into your delusional little head that you somehow understood me," he continued to berate, readjusting his table set-up. "Or that I cared to understand you."

Another tendril appeared and assisted the other in trying to drag Brit down, as the whole floor began to writhe and morph into more and more slither black forms.

He chuckled with little amusement, opening a book and concealing his face behind it. "I mean, how sad is it when the one from the fucking children's cartoon about friendship-obsessed horses doesn't even want to be your friend, huh? My species exists to teach goddamn six year olds about how to stick through friendship till the end, and yet here you are, the one thing even I couldn't be bothered with."

The nightmare became more surreal, more twisted, more horrifying, the walls and corners of the library twisting and morphing into disorienting angles and shapes, the tendrils pulling her down into the slimy floor, and the air becoming heavy with the mish-mashed, muted sound of groaning, growling, and mocking laughter. Willow lowered the book from his face to reveal new eyes; no longer their watery blue, they had taken on a heinous glow, his iris color replaced with dark red, his whites with green, and a twisting violet smoke seeming to curl out from the sides of them.

"But I guess there are some things you just can't fix," he said, slamming the book shut and flying over to her. He regarded her with callousness despite her nightmarish situation, lifting her gaze upward with a tug on the area between her cheek and chin. "What unfathomable choices you make too. Tell me, what were you hoping to get out of me? Empathy? Pity? Admiration? Some relief for your own damn guilt over your condescension of my people?" He leaned and hissed a whisper by her ear. "Love?" A twisted smile cracked along his face. "You're pathetic." And he pushed her aside, allowing the darkness to fully entrap and consume her...



A bottle full of cold water splashed over pony-Brit's head.

Arrow tossed the bottle aside and kept shaking the girl, desperately trying to bring her sobriety. "Snap out of it, snap out it!"

Slowly, the color of possession, the same color the imaginary Willow had had, faded from Brit's eyes and the nightmare ended. Inspecting her, Arrow held the other unicorn close like a sick child and began to look around them in aggressive suspicion, and yes, fear.

"It's even worse than I thought," she growled. "It uses fear. Personal fear. It's grown more powerful and toxic than even I could have predicted. This changes everything..."
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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Fri Jan 29, 2016 1:26 am

WHAP!

Brit peeled the piece of paper from her face and looked at it.

"Lost...cause..." She said to herself before looking up at Willow. "Look, mother fucker!"

And then he cut her of again, right after she referred to him by something she ironically used for her closest friends, the difference was that was in jest and what she just said was with force. And yet, it had no effect.

"Hey! I said-!"

She went to ball up the note when that tendril latched onto her. That snapped her out of one mood and changed gears in her mind. She looked back at Willow with fear in her eyes. And yet, he kept talking like it wasn't even happening. Then the next one relieved her of her movement privileges of her upper torso. For brief moments, she considered the fact that she probably watched enough cartoons of ill repute from the land Nippon to guess what was going to happen next as she watched the floor change under her. She looked to him again.

"Willow...please stop..." She begged in almost a whimper were she not so concerned about trying to keep her cool. Or sanity. One of the two.

But as Willow, if it even was Willow at this point, kept going on and on about all the thing he had been earlier, she fond herself more and more entrapped by the tendrils. Truly, this was some Silent Hill kind of shit or something. It still fazed her as she twisted and turned. And then he grabbed her by the face in a manner she had seen done many times, yet still barely knew. And then the whisper. She paled. Her mind raced even more and eventually she just shut down as everything started to come down on her. Come down like a waterfall. A cold one.

Brit jolted, blinked, and shook her head. Her breathing was staggered and shaky. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes as the events of the nightmare replayed through her head. She hadn't had a nightmare in years.

"I wanna go home..." She murmured.
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Giovenith
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Fri Jan 29, 2016 7:37 am

Brit and Chrys

Arrow lifted herself and Brit to their feet and looked around, seeing if the tunnel around them had fully stopped shaking. It had. "Keep your left hoof on the left wall at all times. It'll lead us out without getting caught in any dead ends.

Weird or not, Arrow did have some small degree of conventional morality. She didn't like like Brit and fully intended to destroy her and her little friends if they stood in her way, but leaving her here to starve and be psychologically tortured to death crossed a certain thick line in her mind. Most of all though, she didn't want to stay here long enough for another umbrum surge to hit and torture her next.

"Hurry, hurry now," Arrow dragged Brit along more by her magic than anything else, keeping her hoof to the wall. "What did it show you? Your past? Your flaws?"
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Capitalist Paradise

Postby Germanic Templars » Fri Jan 29, 2016 3:24 pm

The BranRiech wrote:
Germanic Templars wrote:Thriller stopped himself. He stood close to a window decorated with blue curtains made from a tough material Thriller brought from Gliese (after all, two kids with magical powers can tear through a lot of things). His head, which was looking up at the blank ceiling (a common thing for a man who ponders more than that is needed), turned and looked back at the Prince. Suddenly his whole body slowly shifted towards Drova, pivoting off the the heels of his recently scuffed black boots. His eyebrow raised as to give a more inquisitive glare. Now we are getting somewhere. He passively nodded his head."Now what makes you think you will fail your people? In what aspect? What way? I want to know so that we can start working backwards towards the true root cause and help you out."

Drova

"It's just that . . ."

Why did he think he'd fail?

It was a hard thing for Drova to pin down, something he was unable to do ever since he started having the visions in his mind. Were they just the product of an active imagination? Or was there something more mystical about it? "Oh, I don't know. It's just that, every time I close my eyes, I see it, myself as a horrible failure." The Prince gently patted his hand against his thighs, the delicate (For a guy at least) hand pressed his pants in slightly. His ears drooped somewhat as well, joining his wings in a look of disappointment.

"And I don't really know the root cause, right? It just feels like too much . . . Pressure. Yeah, I know I have to do it, and I know I want to do it, but how can one person hold all the power to run an entire nation?"


Catastrophising maybe?" The thought of failing leaves you demoralized and sacred. However, it might be that you haven't made too many tough choices. I recommend reading some books. More preferably Art of War, On War, and my favorite, The Book of Five Rings, because if you can lead men into battle and control them among the chaos and confusion, they leading civilians in time of peace will be easy." Thriller remarked as he circled around the prince eyeing his slumped appearance.

"But first" By this point Thriller was standing behind the prince. "We need to work on posture." He slipped his hands over Drova's wings, gently grabbing his shoulders and pulling them back while pressing his thumbs on his spine. "The way you carry yourself reflects on what people's first impressions are. Plus it is the first step to confidence, friend."
--
Cerillium wrote:LOBBY

"The lake of blood belonged to the fallen warriors. The dark mages used it in their spell," Rudu the shaman wistfully replied. No ogre, no matter how brutal, appreciated the work of dark sorcery. "As I said, it has very little power at the moment. The longer it rests in the mortal world, the more likely it will regain power. Your folk mustn't delay, shaman."

"MacDoma?" the Möf snorted at Amanda. "You don't have time to drag the Bean Nighe from her nightly haunts and then track down ancient tomes. We expect your party to leave at first light."

"Travel to the meadow where you procured the sheep, and then beyond it, heading due east," the shaman pulled a rolled parchment from his robes. "This map is rudimentary, mostly because the paths in the woods like to shift, but will still bring you to the old cave deep in the mountains. Dress warm. Winter has arrived."

The Möf rose, and the shaman took it as the cue for their time to depart. Both ogres thanked the Residents for the tea before making their way back outside to collect their weapons. The Lobby shifted back to norms once they set foot on the stoop.

ROOF

"That was entirely unnecessary," Klaus murmured to Max. The avatar hadn't left his position nor taken his eyes off the ogres in the distance. A plume of smoke drifted over his shoulder as he tapped an ash. "There is never a good reason to dynamically exit a building, especially as the door could be damaged, thus allowing the enemy an unsecured entry point."

Snow fell from his shoulders as he gestured to a dark corner near the hangar. "Also, the noise has drawn all the ogre's eyes up here. You've given away our snipers' positions. We've been quiet as church mice for the last hour."

The avatar's knees creaked as he rose from his squat. No sense in remaining in position. Klaus tamped the cigarette out in a flowerpot and approached the anthro dog. "Max, is it? I'm sure you're used to working solo, but Building defenders work as a team. Let me know if you'd like to join us. Otherwise, I'll have to ask that you don't take it upon yourself to wage a one person crusade. I'm not requesting this to demean you. Not my intent. I'm advising it because our numbers are few and I'd rather not lose men to friendly fire. You're welcome to ask Rudolf about it," he gestured towards the hangar again, "or find General Romulus. Speaking of which, I need to pay him a visit. Good evening."

He stepped past Max and trotted down the stairs.


Lobby

After the ogres left, Dr. Smith headed to the third floor to meet with a neighbor. His feet carried him to the door of room 3J. He knocked on the door and waited a minute until Lucius opened the door. He greeted the cyborg and welcomed him into his room. Behind the doors Smith briefed about the ogres and the discussion that happened in the lobby. Smith knew that this task was smothing he couldn't do and that Thriller wouldn't allow, so he had no choice but resort to another person interested in learning the lay of the land.

Roof
Max sneered under his helmet as Klaus passed him. "Tch, shows how much you know about me." He mumbled to himself. He slung his rifle on his back as he walked to the edge of the building. He glanced down at the ogres below, giving a small salute to them before he headed back for the door.

Thought of joining the defense for the building left a good taste in his mouth. To him it sounded as if it was like home - almost. New people to work with from different backgrounds, each with their own tactics, plus a different chain of command he would have to deal with. Never-the-less he would chose to join, but first he wanted to get answers.

Max entered into the hangar Klaus pointed at earlier. He scanned the area, keeping his head on a swivel.

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TotallyNotEvilLand
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Ex-Nation

Postby TotallyNotEvilLand » Fri Jan 29, 2016 4:36 pm

Lobby, Crysal
Of course she'd been late.

Crysal had dressed herself up in her fine, enchanted armor, had her axe ready to go, and even brushed her fangs to make them look as terrifying as possible for whatever enemy laid ahead, and when she rushed into the lobby, ready to start cracking heads, it'd turned out the situation had been solved with diplomacy.

Of course she knew that peace was the more desirable option whenever possible, but... ah, it just felt like a letdown. The screaming of 'alarm' had the Arkadacian's mind set on the Building's equivalent to Thermoplyae. Perhaps it'd just been too long since she'd seen action, she felt.

Now looking very much out of place in the lobby, the grizzled warrior widened her eyes and placed her axe on her back, and found somewhere to sit.

Adrisal's Apartment, Adri

Slowly poking her head out of her window, Adri looked around. After hearling "ALARM" shouted down the hallways she ducked under her bed and prepared for the worst, but it seemed to have been resolved without bloodshed, which she was certainly thankful for. The perpetual youth had spent the past several days working on ways to pitch her faith. After the failure of the mission in Bielefeld (well, to be fair, it was primarily because they were thrown out of the city and into somewhere else entirely), she figured she'd go with a more personal approach to sharing the joys of Arkchil with the local populace. As mildly sickening as it felt to prey on the weak, she couldn't deny the effectiveness of preaching to those just recovering from injuries and illness in the sick bad.

Of course, that required leaving her room, something that Adri was, up until now, not very fond of. Her teal hair a shaggy mess, she slowly stepped out of her apartment and made for the roof, mostly to get a taste of what the weather was like.
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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Fri Jan 29, 2016 7:09 pm

"I don't want to talk about it..." Brit said quietly as she followed Arrow.

This was not how she wanted to spend her day, but she had to make the best of it. Really, that's what she had been doing all this time. Making the best of her situation on a day-by-day basis. Be it transported to Equestria and turned into a pony, or struggling to save the life of a dying woman with a gaping wound, she had been always keeping her energy focused on trying to not let it all bog her down. The past was set in stone, but the future was flexible. Fuck destiny and fate, she'd make her own happiness. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to at this point. But for now, there was the task at hand.
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Northwest Slobovia
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Anarchy

Postby Northwest Slobovia » Fri Jan 29, 2016 8:23 pm

Cerillium wrote:The Möf rose, and the shaman took it as the cue for their time to depart. Both ogres thanked the Residents for the tea before making their way back outside to collect their weapons. The Lobby shifted back to norms once they set foot on the stoop.

Amanda rose with their guests. "I'm glad we were able to work this out peacefully."

There was still the matter of looking into their claims. While it seemed unlikely they'd have fabricated the story, Amanda knew the old line: trust but verify. That seemed especially apt, as they were claiming the Burrows-dwellers had used them, which was no small matter. If their neighbors were slipperly, they'd have to be on their guard dealing with them.

Amanda saw the ogres out, then stood quietly as they retrieved their weapons. Once they seemed to be done, Amanda politely asked, "A question, if I may. Does the Burrows also follow the Law of the Wold? I ask not to satisfy my own curiosity but on behalf of others."

"Some of us did wrong to the Burrows-dwellers while trying to help them. They're already punishing themselves, because they're sorry for what they did, and unsure of how to make amends. I was asked to help them make things right, but I didn't realize their might be another legal system... ethical system -- I'm sorry, I don't know what to call it -- in use. If the Burrows holds by the Law of the Wold, my advice would be worse than useless, so your answer would help us tremendously."



Sandy stepped to the side so he didn't block the elevator doors, then took stock of what he saw. Amanda and company had apparently succeeded well enough, as she was outside talking to two of the ogres, and it looked like a meeting by the windows had just broken up. Maghrl and Nicanor were chatting, and there was a rifle propped up against the wall next to them: not the image of Residents bracing for battle.

They did it! ...And we live to fight another day. Sandy sagged as the adrenaline high that had been propelling him wore off. He looked down at the tricorder-thing in his hand, frowning. Who to tell first? After some thought, he decided that Alexia and Rmwtyliin would realize the truth shortly, but the people in the hospital wouldn't. He took the elevator back up to the fifth floor, and headed into the hospital.

Not much seemed to have changed within. Sandy made an announcement, but the adrenaline crash sapped his voice, and it came out much more quietly than he intended. He looked a bit worn, too. "It looks like we've reached an agreement with the orges, so I don't think there will be call for our services. Sorry for my brusqueness earlier; I was worried we were going to face another bloodbath, and I wanted to be better prepared."

He walked over to Ogoti. "My sincere apologies for my presumption, Ogoti. I should know better."
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Mincaldenteans
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Ex-Nation

Postby Mincaldenteans » Fri Jan 29, 2016 9:18 pm

Dan eyed the pager in his hands for a moment, its blank screen and smooth black features with only two buttons on the top was reminiscent of 90s technology. Weird thing, he wondered what it'd sound like, but inwardly hoped they'd never have to find out. He clipped the pager on the waist band of his jeans close to a belt loop. When Sandy came rushing in, the good news was met with a welcoming smile; the healer's apology was unnecessary for the summer fae, "Good to hear. Ogoti was just going over some procedures. Do you know what they wanted, by any chance? The Ogres, I mean."

--//\\--

Fvaarniimar wrote:
Rmwtyliin squeaked.  "What is happening?!  What -"  Taking a deep breath, she glanced around.  It feels like I am overlooking something important.  I should be more scared by this.  I mainly feel surprised, puzzled...  There were a few reasons for this; some part of her subconscious had recalled that the building was different to different people, for one.  Spirits, is this your guidance?  ...Or perhaps I am accustomed to strange things here.  As modern technology was commonplace and scarcely distinguishable from magic, 'strange things' had certainly become her norm.   Why, she stood with a person with the ability to mend wounds far faster than she had once believed possible.  A person to whom she really needed to respond. Oops. 

Unsurprisingly, the name wasn't pronounced correctly, although Rmwtyliin appreciated the healer's effort. "It is also pleasant meeting you, Ahllegzksia -" dung, I got her name wrong - "And I understand.  However, I thought we were to sort the wounded here?"  Nevertheless, Rmwtyliin did not feel that she had any authority in this area; she followed where Alexia was gesturing, hoping that she would see fit to explain.

"The lobby is a high traffic area," Alexia explained, recalling the previous night.  Through the chaos, there was barely a semblance of coordination.  Entering the library, the monk further continued, "While it would be easier to treat them at the lobby and move them here, it's best we were out of the way entirely.  Besides," the monk smiled, "I don't want our guests agitated at the sight of us mulling about in preparation for something that may not happen.  It'll give the wrong impression."

The girl nodded.  "That is not what we want.  What can we do here to prepare?"  Even as she said it, a possibility occurred to her.  "Maybe we could get some bandages.  Some wounds might need immediate care. Also, thanks again, Duncan."


"Actually," Alexia said, pointing outside through the glass doors with a wide and relieved smile as the ogres took their leave and Amanda trailed behind them to see them out. "I don't think that'd be necessary, it seems our guests have no intentions of giving us a bloody nose." Her smile widened with the knowledge of a peaceful night. She glanced at Rmwtyliin, "Perhaps another time we'll go over what we need to prepare for, right now, I'm eager to find out what has transpired."

The monk gestured for them to exit the library, having no use for the room any longer. "Let's find out what exactly happened," she suggested, moving over to the ritualist, Septimus and Primordial. Alexia quickly introduced Rmwtyliin to Anais, Septimus and Primordial. The rest of the guild and the Klingons had come out from the dining room, though Alexia didn't get a chance to introduce them to the young woman. She noted a few of the guild and Tavana were speaking to Hunter, who threw his hands up with a shake of his head, something about being out of his league and bid the group a good night. It only peaked her interest to find the facts out first hand from Anais who turned to greet the monk.

"What's the news?" Alexia's expression had changed, the smile long gone when met with a concerned look from Anais.

"Undead dragon lich awoke upon our entrance last night. We shattered its bonds that imprisoned it here," Anais informed, "the Ogres are the peacekeepers in the region and according to the law, we're to make amends."

"Not an easy feat," Alexia narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, refraining to turn her sights upon the Ogres stopped at the door by Amanda.

"No, but according to them, it is weakened severely," Anais sighed, "They've suggested a team be assembled as quickly as possible and to leave by first light."

The ritualist looked at the monk and considered her options. She and the rest of the Guild could stay behind. With the exception of Traxt whose fire magic could be useful, the others would likely be casualties rather than assets in the fight against Varg. Alexia, however, was a monk whose allegiance went to Dwayna and Balthazar, the first was always the monk's preference, having been a healer longer than a soldier. "I'd like you to join whatever team comes up tomorrow, Alexia. You've studied, and fought, against the undead in the Ascalon Catacombs as well as the undead menace in Kryta before the Charr siege. We won't need the whole guild for this, your spells against the undead back home could be uniquely suited against this creature."

Eyebrows perked up, Alexia wandered how effective her spells would be. She knew it worked in Tyria, but what if her god did not deem her worthy of his blessings here? She had grown too cautious and too worried of her remaining guildmates to rush head long into battle anymore. It was the reason she handed her mantel to Anais; the ritualist had better insight and knew how to adjust the Guild according to the Residents' needs. The monk only nodded in acknowledgment of her orders, if Balthazar did not bestow his divine favor upon her, at least she knew Dwayna had a more sympathetic hand, and the team would have a healer at least.

"I best get some rest then," Alexia said with a tight nod. She bid everyone good night and quickly made her way to the elevator.

Anais turned to Septimus and Primordial, "I don't carry much of a voice with the Residents, so perhaps you two could get the rest up to speed? As you just saw and overheard," she gave a rueful smile, "I just assigned Alexia to tomorrow's team. I would assign more to assist, though given last night's attack, I believe the Guild's presence here is required."
Last edited by Mincaldenteans on Sat Jan 30, 2016 1:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Tiltjuice
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Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Tiltjuice » Fri Jan 29, 2016 10:21 pm

Chrys was a bit overwrought at this point, having just noticed her new appendages.

"I don't know - I only thought it was normal..."

The lapse of attention put her off, but she merely followed meekly along with Clover's steps and explanation. "To be honest I'm a newcomer to magic in general...will that be a problem? My own powers in my original body can rush out of control if I lose focus, or other things happen with weather, like extreme cold. That won't happen here, will it...?"

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New Aksarben
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Ex-Nation

Postby New Aksarben » Fri Jan 29, 2016 10:24 pm

Sterling had started to pace the room a bit, expecting people to be brought up at just about any moment. The pony shivered a bit from fear as he trotted, mumbling under his breath a small prayer to Celestia, Luna, all the alicorns, or just to whatever might be listening. He sincerely hoped that everyone would get out of this unscathed. He had never seen a battle before, the last real fighting Equestrians had was that dreadful changeling invasion, and there hadn't been warfare for centuries!

Then Sandy came, and delivered the amazing news! The Ogre's had left, and a diplomatic solution had been found!

Sterling grinned, and gave a little jump from joy. "Oh thank Celestia!" His hooves landed steadily on all four limbs, clacking against the floor. No one was going to get hurt, and everything was okay! But Dan's question brought that one thing to his mind. If they hadn't come here to, well, murder everyone. Why did they come? Maybe Sandy knew indeed. His expression turned to a slight frown and he huffed.

"It seems odd they'd come here all decked out in like military form or whatever and just leave, I second Dan's question." The pony voiced, stepping over besides the Fae and looking up at the human with a tilted head. His tail flicked against the floor as he had turned around, before coming to rest between his back legs. "Or were they just like.... Welcoming us to the neighborhood? Being good neighbors and all that? That might not be too far fetched might it?" Sterling followed up, a hopeful look on his face.
Last edited by New Aksarben on Fri Jan 29, 2016 10:39 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Highfort
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Postby Highfort » Sat Jan 30, 2016 6:45 am

Septimus let out an audible sigh of relief as the ogres departed. Amanda appeared to have the situation under control, though such control made him suspicious. Her political prowess showed itself yet again, as it had in Ascalon with the Judge, and he was starting to wonder if perhaps she would one day come to usurp the old guard that currently controlled the Building. Perhaps that would be for the better... and perhaps that would doom them all.

Regardless, Septimus followed Anais and Alexia as he was pulled aside by the Guild to discuss about the preceding meeting alongside the Klingons. Anais' summary satisfied him and he indicated his approval with a curt nod, tired eyes betraying the fact that while he was bound to his duty as a representative, he certainly wasn't fully aware of himself or prepared to speak at the current moment.

"The Guild would do well to remain here, as you said," he replied to Anais, shaking his head as an annoying pang indicated he was recovering from his excessive drinking, "Defeating Varg will be a priority but we also have interests to protect at the Building and those do not get abandoned just because we're being sent on another mission. Baron Primordial, you can alert the rest of the magic-oriented Residents. I'll make sure to arrange a meeting this evening so things can get sorted. Ms. Anais, do you know of Klaus or Minerva's current location? I'll need them to help me with rallying the rest of the residents so we can get this mission parceled out and a proper team assembled."

As Septimus spoke, Opa turned to follow the blacklisted Brother. Itum was still the combat droid's top priority - behind getting home, of course - and his processor reminded him that if anything were to happen to Septimus on the droid's watch that the Consul would be very displeased. Seeing that the newcomers had left, apparently with some sort of deal worked out, Opa decided to pipe up in the conversation. Perhaps he could acquire information about his current location and what piece the Building was in this most curious of puzzles.

"Excuse me," the monotone voice interjected, directing its presence at Anais, "Where exactly. Are we? What nation. Currently controls this. Sector? Is it not. Confederation. Affiliated?"

"New, eh?" Septimus offered him a weary grin, "Gallimaufry, Mr. Demens' personal playpen. He's also the proprietor of the Building and somewhat of a powerful man in this place. Your paintjob looks familiar..."

"Confederation Vigilante. Riot Squad. Vigiles Urbani-" Opa began, reciting his rank as he always did when requested by a citizen, in slow, measured steps.

"Confederation?" the Representative's eyes narrowed, "Hm. Wonder why Demens brought you here. Say, where's your apartment?"

"I am to be. Housed in the. Basement quarters," Opa replied, tilting his body in a display of curiosity designed to disarm those around him, "Is something. Wrong?"

"I assume you'll be sticking with me before you get settled in, then?" the cyborg sighed, "Just don't make trouble while we sort things out. I'll get you up to speed after we have the meeting."

Opa, for his part, nodded dutifully.
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Primordial Luxa
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Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Sat Jan 30, 2016 2:57 pm

The BranRiech wrote:Yuna

"Uh, thanks for listening, everyone!" The filly shouted, a far-cry from her assertive statement just a few seconds before. Yuna blushed furiously, and sat back down again, still holding the stick, almost forgetting the importance of the trinket.

She wasn't quite the expert peacemaker she saw herself as in that situation, but the fact that her suggestion at least held some weight was an accomplishment which furthered her goals of maybe being one someday. She turned herself around, and sighed. She was planning on tossing Sundae the stick, and nodded at the prodding of Cookie to do so. "Here!" She shouted back. As much ill-will she held towards the young mare, Yuna wasn't going to let it get in her way when the stakes seemed quite high.

Although just as a little revenge, she threw the stick at such an angle so that Sundae may have to run a little ways to get her turn to speak.

Turning to Aegis, and Cookie, she looked a little worried. "Was that good? I-I wanted to say something, and then the stick, and everything just sort of spilled out."


Aegis
Aegis nodded at Yuna and said “That was very uplifting although let’s try not to get too bogged down in politics just yet. What sort of message do you think we should place in the snow once we get out of this meeting? It should be something easy to make yet also clear to everyone who might have been sucked along with us.” Aegis’s brow was heavily creased in thought and it was obvious that his mind was not focused on the politics of the region. Instead he concerned about the best way to get home and his entire body seemed to have sudden moments of tension and nervousness as time went on.
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.

Monfrox wrote:But it's not like we've known Prim to really stick with normality...

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Swith Witherward
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Founded: Feb 11, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Swith Witherward » Sat Jan 30, 2016 7:33 pm

LOBBY

"The answer to your earlier question is quite simple, Brother Itum."

The features of Minerva's face wrapped themselves up in their customary scowl as she rounded the reception desk and squeezed past the massive thade. "We aren't going to round up anyone. We're going to hand select because, honestly, the last foray into a strange land was a right cock up. People rifling through purses and mucking about with hair accessories and phones, and large armored men stepping from vehicles rather than allowing the driver to declare them back there. The only possible way it could have been worse was if some stupid cow threw all the "abnormals" under the proverbial bus. Oh, wait. That happened. Read all about it in the report. Tell me, sir, why is it that the people least familiar with this building and its inhabitants are the ones suddenly calling all the shots?"

She paused to stare at Bran. "And why, pray tell, are the old hands not asked to advise the rest?" The cultist leader snorted, and then allowed her tone to become more gentle, "I know, dear Bran. You honestly haven't had a moment's rest nor the opportunity. That's about to change."

The corner's of Minerva's mouth flickered as the fiery ginger regarded the Residents gathered in the lobby. "To the War Room, if you please. For those of you unfamiliar with its location: the dining room. We'll put on some coffee. Bran, would you mind using the PA system to call to a Residents Meeting in the dining room? Oh, and someone go outside and haul the woman back in. The ogres are rather male-centric, no? And we'll need to find Giovenith and Myra Bones. Both are related to dragons. Baron, I'll need everything you've got in your library regarding undead things, and any trinkets you can lend for sake of the cause, please. Let's all meet in ten minutes."

She began to rattle off things from her to-do list as she took the stairs to the second floor. "Need to find Kale and Deuce to see to the lawn. Oh, and the roof exit door is broken. Make note of new resources. And those bathtubs. Much to do about-"



DINING ROOM

The Building rose to the occasion, pushing around the dining room furniture to accommodate Residents' needs. The whole arrangement was identical to the last Resident Meeting (and the one before that, and the one before that!), only a white board had been added this time. Minerva poured a cup of coffee for herself and carried it down the aisle dividing the room's tables. She settled behind the table at the far end of the room, facing the others that would eventually be occupied, and blew steam from her cup.



BIOGARDEN

Giovenith's infectious giggle caused both cyborgs to smile.

"I can only advise letting him bring up things rather than trying to pry them," Adrastus shook his head. Truthfully, nobody knew what he had endured. The abbot would need to push down his own rabid curiosity. They certainly weren't going to learn anything until the young man awoke and, even then, it really wasn't his place to question everything he had been through. He also suspected Thaddeus knew much more than he was letting on.

The grizzled cyborg was about to speak when a soft cough caught their attention.

Nila stood at the edge of the garden path, her hands neatly folded in front of her as she waited for an acknowledgement. She took Adrastus' blink as such. "Forgive me for interrupting, but Morbus informs me that they've called an emergency Residents Meeting. Something about going off to kill undead dragons, and discussing Building defenses."

Thaddeus rose. Marcus was safe enough in Nila's capable hands. If Residents needed information, they'd be better off talking with one of the assholes responsible for installing a layer or two. That asshole was him.

"We should go then," Adrastus grunted as he eased his bulk from the chair. He checked his internal chronometer. "9 PM seems awfully late to be holding one, but the need must be there. Shall we go?"



OGRE LINE

The CoOP rolled badly, thus the ogre with his sniper rifle trailed on Max did not squeeze the trigger as the strange anthro dog walked to the edge of the roof and (possibly?) dropped something on, or waved his hand at, the two leaders standing on the stoop below. The ogre assumed the anthro dog was drunk. After all, in a tense and potentially combative situation, what person would walk to the edge of a roof where his body was completely silhouetted against the night sky thanks to the full moon?



RACHE AND WILLOW

Rache's head tilted as he observed Cloud Duster's odd behavior. He seemed far off, perhaps dwelling on the mare from the alley or other memories. The bitter wind kissed his face and yet he remained for some time, head lifted and the world shut out by his closed eyes. The daemonpony was about to inquire when Pansy pulled Cloud Duster from his reverie.

"No sense in catching a cold out here either," Rache kindly added.

Once they were back inside, Rache gave another veiled but pressing look to Willow. He waited until the other two were looking away, and hoped that Willow would catch on. "Would you mind showing us to our room, Cloud Duster? It's been an exhausting day for everyone, and I'm sure both of you would like some rest as well."
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Giovenith
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Sat Jan 30, 2016 9:04 pm

Brit and Chrys

The only sound for the rest of the frantic maze trip was the sound of Arrow talking to herself, an annoying habit that nonetheless managed to ease some of the tension that the darkness and looming danger created. It was hard to be completely scared shitless when you had some prissy koo-koo huffing and muttering meaningless complexities the whole way, taking the situation in from an angle that while serious, was probably not the brand of seriousness that was appropriate for the circumstances. While Brit wanted to get out of the maze as soon as possible due to emotional fatigue, Arrow was clearly still in the mindset of making certain that whatever devious little plans she had in mind came to pass.

At the very least, the sorceress was correct about the maze trick: Keeping to the left wall, they ran into no dead-ends, and it wasn't unbearably long until Arrow stopped her forward charge and snapped her head towards one of the walls. Dropping Brit out of her telekinesis, she zipped up and thrust her ear towards the wall, listening close and making out muffled voices. Yes! Leaning back, she saw that the wall was made of a different material than the rest of the maze. Rather than tightly packed bricks, they seemed to be rounded stones packed together with weak dried mud or dirt. In any case, Arrow immediately began to rip away at the wall, digging and pushing down her hooves into the bumpy edges of the stones in attempt to dislodge them. One came crumbling out, revealing a small ray of light.

"Don't just stand there, assist!" she commanded Brit, continuing to dig at the wall.



"I can't be sure," Clover confessed, worried but in thought. "If we had more time, more resources, I could have run some experiments to gauge how your own innate power corresponds with our dimension. From the looks of it, you already have some wonky side effects..." She eyed the wings. "I can easily fix that, but the rest... I don't know. My mentor might have known."

Here the young unicorn looked down sadly, her ears folding. She lowered her hood, exposing her long green and lavender hair all held up in a tight bun with a big, emerald, four-leaf clover-shaped pin. It was quite fitting of who she was, if that was the appropriate way to describe; humble and pragmatic, with no vanity for her locks, but a unicorn nonetheless, thus incomplete without even a little bit of jewely flair.

"Forgive me for being a bit emotional, but it is something of an ordeal," she said to Chrys. "I have been the ward of my mentor since I was very small, I learned everything from him and it can be hard filling in his space in his absence. It has been hard for both me and the princess, what with her father gone as well. If they had been here, I'm sure they would have figured this all out for you and Brit in a matter of mere minutes. I am sorry you are stuck with only us silly little girls."

They finally reached a spot where the surrounding outer space melted back into Clover's crystal ball, bouncing upward back into her hoof and leaving them once again in Queen Argenta's memorial chamber.

Yuna and Aegis

Knowing this was going to be bad, Smart Cookie temporarily left Yuna and Aegis to their own wits regarding the wood project to lean back in her chair and cover her reddening, cringing face over with her hat. Oh please forces that be, make this one of the least insane rants.

"Everypony! You are right when you say that the unicorns and pegasi did not purposely cause this winter..." Sundae began her speech.

Smart Cooke lifted her hat a bit. Huh? Huh. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"But they ARE responsible for it!" Sundae declared.

Nope. Back under the hat.

"Think about this now," the short horse got on her high horse, standing upon the bench and clearly readying herself to try and convince. "My friends, there is no such thing as undeserved suffering in this world. Only blessings are undeserved, and all pain is deserved, because it is only through the unending and undeserved generosity of the great Mother Earth that we dwell in her realm. Ponies are naturally slothful creatures! It is only through taught dedication that we give back to the land, that we give as much as we take from the great mother, so when the Earth decides to punish us, it because we have stepped out of line and failed to do it's bidding..."

"Chancellor, make it stooooooooop..." Cookie groaned from under her hat.

The Chancellor merely waved her secretary off, none too impressed with Sundae's shpeel either but knowing she had no choice but to let the kid have her say.

"I have prayed and she has spoken to me!" the orange filly loudly declared, raising her forearms to the ceiling. "And she has told her humble daughter in my dreams that she has grown tired of our tolerance of the thankless creatures who consume her goods yet do not recognize her will and power, nor dwell in her abode. In clouds and mountains do they dwell, not in the dirt which all life belongs to, yet our beloved Mother's greenery and gifts they are more than happy to consume. Desecration I say! Pure greed! And for centuries we have been complicit in it! Well we were given mercy for too long, but now it is time to own up to our mistakes, stop being afraid of the judgments of the unholy, and--"

SkyWishes yanked Sundae back on her bottom on the bench, face burning just as red from embarrassment and indignation as Cookie's. Sweet holy cow mother, that was enough of that. Indeed, the entire room had been completely drowned in awkward silence, as even the most prejudiced of the citizens exchanged cringing looks to one another and concerned whispers about Sundae's views.


Rache and Willow

At first Willow was a little confused by the pointed looks from Rache, but quickly caught on that the daemonpony was probably looking forward to more planning, questions, and talk. It had been all day since they were able to talk about their situation freely without sticking to their "explorers" lies or speak in cold-reading code, so it probably was best that they hit the clouds as soon as possible. Besides, he genuinely was pretty worn out. All this cold, and ghouling fighting, and flying around... he'd be grateful for a long sleep on a warm bed.

"Yeah, I'll fix it up for you," Cloud Duster turned and walked towards the door, briefly stopping and eyeing Pansy. "Are you going to stay over too?"

"I'd honestly rather just stick around for the warmth, and wait and see if one of the Vigiles will come around and escort me back to my aunt's house," she answered.

The young stallion nodded, having no problem with this. Popping back into host mode, he retrieved several scratchy but thick blankets from a nearby chest in the main living area, giving one to Pansy and showing her to a couch near one of the front windows where she could keep watch for an escort or curl up and fall asleep on easily if none arrived. For Rache and Willow he begged them to follow him down a hall where he showed the two of them to one of the larger rooms the house had to offer, setting aside the blankets to sculpt two basic bed surfaces out of the cloud floor. They were very fancy, but they would do. They were cloud after all, what more could you really possibly ask for?

"If you have an emergency, my room is located down the other hall on the opposite side of the living space," the young host informed the two, handing them each a blanket. "I am your host but I do highly suggest you not wake me unless it is absolutely dire. I'm not very pleasant when I am tired, and the last thing I want to do is lash out at either of you." He turned to the elder of the two travelers. "Rache, I may wake you up early so that you might have a fair chance to decide on how you wish to approach tomorrow's challenges - a fair warning. That's all. I bid you both a good rest. Sleep is an escape from the day's miseries."

With that Cloud Duster dismissed himself, closing the door behind him and making his way to his own private quarters on the other side of the house.

Willow flopped face-first onto the cloud, draping the blanket over his back. "My wings are killing me," he groaned, letting the feathery appendages splay out to ease the tension in their joints. His little grey face popped out from the edge of the blanket and looked at the daemonhost in pony form. "So, what's the plan now?"


Building

"Yes, let us," Giovenith agreed, jumping into action. Emergency meeting! Marcus had wanted her to rest, but there would be plenty of time for that later. He was the one who needed rest more than anything else, and she could attend to other duties securely knowing that he was in safe, caring hands. There were other people who needed her help too!
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Chedastan
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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Chedastan » Sat Jan 30, 2016 9:27 pm

Romulus had stood silently for a moment after the ogres had walked out the front doors, and their large frames began getting smaller and smaller as they preceded away from his view inside the lobby. He knew dealing with Varg could take several days, like the ogre had mentioned, which meant less time for him to be present at the building to prepare a more fortified defense against the Fiends, if he were to join that quest. He figured in all likelihood that Varg may end up being a larger threat than the Fiends if given the opportunity, which is why it was almost impeccable that he be dealt with as soon as possible before he could regain his full strength. He didn't want to have to worry about two threats besieging them at the same time, so it was probably better that he be present to eliminate the weaker of the two, and hope that there is still time left when he gets back to aid sufficiently in the defense of the building when the tenth day mark comes up.

He stopped looking through the windows, and went to the back part of the lobby to get back into his suit of power armor that he had left briefly there. He had a pretty good feeling that the ogres weren't going to show up again at the building until at least tomorrow morning at the earliest, so he may as well retrieve his armor now so not to lose track of it. By the time he returned to the lobby's front, Minerva had made herself present at the reception desk, and was bringing up the unglamorous Ascalon incidents from earlier today to Representative Itum, he cringed slightly at the reminder. However before he could make a comment on that, Minerva was already calling for a meeting to commence shortly, and was calling for everyone to go to the dining room. He felt a bit relieved now that hopefully some well thought out planning was about to occur, it reminded him somewhat of the many strategy and tactics planning sessions that would happen between him and his high ranking officers, though he had a feeling those will be much more organize and cleaner than what could possibly be dicussed here.

He followed Minerva up to the dining room, having nothing better to do before the meeting, besides maybe having some tea. He noticed that the furniture arrangements had shifted to how they were like in yesterday's meeting, but gave no further thought to it, he had known this building for a couple things already, he wouldn't be surprise if this were the case here. He made his way into the kitchen to make himself some tea, then made his way to where Minerva was situated at. He was concerned as to what she might have meant by hand selecting people, and coupled with her added mention of previous events in Ascalon, he wondered now if she might not allow him to go with the group going to get Varg because of that.

While technically he knew he outranked almost everyone here, it will probably be poor for relations within the building if he tried to do as he wanted without any approval from the people who came before him, which was honestly a tad annoying to him given his military experience, but so be it perhaps. He sighed, then began to speak.

"Minerva, listen, about what happened in Acalon. I in no way meant to do any of what I did, it was a complete misunderstanding on my part that caused that mess, and for that I am sorry you had to read that on the report. I've been in campaigns for 17 years, I just want to keep the record straight that I will make sure that doesn't make me liable to causing another incident of that nature again, I will make sure of it this time around and onwards." He felt so pitiful, almost like he was a captain again reporting to Major Athena.
Last edited by Chedastan on Sun Jan 31, 2016 12:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The BranRiech
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Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Sun Jan 31, 2016 7:15 am

Bran

"Hey, don't ask me."

Bran shrugged at Minerva's slight hint of accusation. He didn't much know why he wasn't being much more forceful like he usually was. The man had simply stood by and let everyone else plan how the Ogres were dealt with, and now they were stuck on some quest that they didn't agree to. They'd let huge security threats waltz right up to the building, and even inside!

Yeah, he would have done more, but Minerva was totally right. All the new people, the people who seemed to have lived there for less than, even a year, were the ones running around, acting as leaders and diplomats. It was also true that Septimus, despite being rather new, was actually elected, but what of the others? Bran had lived there for almost half a decade at this point, and he couldn't think of many other residents who were also from around back then. Minerva came to mind, and most of the Chaos group (Wherever they ran off to).

"And yeah, I've got it." He responded a moment later, running off downstairs. His feet could be heard pitter-pattering as he ran through his door, which was still opened from the morning. "Ah . . . Hasn't worked in a while, haven't used it too." The man mused to himself, sitting down at the console.

A dial was turned here, several buttons pushed there . . . Aaaaaaand . . . Good!

Bran giggled somewhat as the dusty electronics sparked to life, before taking the microphone in his hands. "Emergency meeting, everyone, in the dining room. Maybe there'll be waffles, yeah? Either way, all residents to the dining room, please."

Wherever they were, all the residents (Save for those stuck in Equestria of course) would hear Bran's voice booming through the walls, emanating from old speakers, strategically placed so that anyone could hear the announcement.

--

Drova

"Agh, hey!" Drova winced, standing straight up. When did he give this man permission to touch him!? He turned his head around, and put a scowl on his face, but otherwise kept the posture going. "I-I don't need to fix my posture! It's fine!" He rubbed at his shoulders. It wasn't painful, of course, though the sudden intrusion of Thriller's hands were somewhat surprising to feel.

"And what is my posture going to help with anyways? I don't feel very much different." He sighed, looking down at his shoes, his back still held straight.

All of a sudden, the room crackled and popped. Or more specifically, the speaker in the corner crackled and popped, and Bran's voice filled the room, beckoning the residents to come down to the dining room for an emergency meeting. There was also a vague promise of the possibility of food.

"Meeting?" Drova stopped, looking around, his ears finding the speaker where the noise had come from. "Can we . . . Go to the meeting, and finish this up later?"

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Cerillium
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New York Times Democracy

Postby Cerillium » Sun Jan 31, 2016 11:34 am

OGRES

The Möf rolled his eyes at the sound of Amanda's voice, then turned to face her. The smile affixed to his face didn't quite reach his eyes. Minerva was right - ogres were extremely sexist.

"If someone has harmed another - and not in the course of natural predation or legal inclination, such as a medusa killing a champion for bothering her at home - they should make amends. It wasn't the village that was attacked. It was the individual villager. Some might say nothing about it. Others might want compensation. That said, whoever caused the grass to attack has not violated another being. They have violated the Laws pertaining to the Wyld. Nature is not a plaything. Everything balances. By warping the grass, the person deprived others from sustenance, no? The general rule of thumb is simple: if you must fuck with nature, do it on your own damned territory. Don't fuck with things that don't belong to you. Those meadows are common ground."

He shouldered his axe and gave the shaman a nudge before addressing Amanda again. "The way to fix it is to till it and sow come spring. It is too late to till and sow now. Planting season is over. Sow seeds to benefit pregnant ewes. Orchard grass and white clover, naming a few. Sow it physically. Magic fucks with nature. Magic makes lovely green things grow in minutes. It deprives those green things from absorbing sunlight and nutrients over a long duration. Good evening, Woman Bela."

Their large feet leaving heavy prints in the meager inch of snow on the ground as they walked away to rejoin their kin. The Building's front door opened just wide enough for Volker to stick his head out. "Ms. Bela? Everyone's gathering upstairs in the dining room."


WAR ROOM

"Oh, don't let her words eat at you!" Klaus friendly German accent conveyed a bit of humour as the twinkling-eyed avatar joined the pair. "She's always grumpy when she wakes from the dead." He cast a wink in her direction before settling into a chair. "Please, have a seat General. I was on my way to look for you anyway-"

Bran's voice echoed through the room to announce the meeting, giving Klaus a moment to stir sugar into his coffee. He laid the spoon aside and politely waited until the PA system clicked off.

"As I was saying, I was looking for you. You're a good man, Romulus," War's avatar offered a confident nod to the General. "Shadows have ears and, as I understand it, we're sending a group out to slay a dragon. We need someone that won't quell at the first sign of trouble. If we're going to do this properly, we need a knight. That's you. And you'll need a squire. I've got someone in mind. And the knight needs armor - that suit of yours won't run forever in the wilderness. I have a suit to loan you. Should fit nicely, and we'll buff out my mark so you don't look ridiculous. That is, if you're interested?"

"I suppose you'll put him on a steed?" Minerva quipped.

"Ja, Knuddlemaus. That's where you come in."

"Oh?"

Klaus smiled. "I intend to put him on Vroo."

Minerva clapped her hands to her nose and mouth to stem the giggles cascading from her. Absolute delight touched every feature once she pulled her fingers away. "Perfect. We can add some armor to him, and bulk him up a bit to fit Romulus' size. Sort of draft horse-ish, though I doubt we can do anything about his seahorse snout." She turned towards Romulus, her smile nearly taking her ears, and explained, "Vroo is a Chaos steed. He's a charger. Quick, well trained, accustomed to facing the fiercest foes. His last crusade was against the forces of the Chaos God of Disease, Decay, and Destruction. But, there's a downside. He's got a quirky personality, and a clever sense of humor. Never in battle, of course! But he'll steal your shiny possessions and chew on your hair if you're not mindful."

"We'll put the rest on whatever horses or ponies the village blacksmith's willing to lend us. Can't drive a vehicle. No gas out there," Klaus continued, "And there's no sense in walking all the way."

Minerva appears courtesy of Swithwardian Productions.


BIOGARDEN

The cyborgs and Giovenith arrived just as Klaus had finished speaking. His twinkling eyes settled on Thaddeus. "And here's the man with the squire," he chimed, much to Thaddeus' confusion.

"What?" the old cyborg politely pulled out a chair for Giovenith before settling into one himself.

"The squire. Marcus!"

Adrastus eased into a seat near his companions. "I'm afraid the lad's indisposed. He's mendi-"

"He'll be right as rain once Ogoti's touched him," Klaus wouldn't take No for an answer. "Fritz says he's to go, and I'm not about to bicker with Plotter over the matter. You know he foresees things."

"Go where?" both cyborgs offered incredulous looks to the avatar.

"To slay a dragon-litch," Klaus grinned.


HOSPITAL

Ogoti got no further than "Not to worry, Professor Bela..." before the PA system crackled to life. Bran's voice spoke to empty bays and cotton squares dispensers, but also to the healers assembled around the nurses' station. A rueful smile stained the Indian's face. "It is apparent we are required elsewhere, but we can chat along the way. I'll leave Sanjay behind to tend business."

The aforementioned cast-off from Elfen High could only shrug at mention of his name. The relatively fair-skinned Indian stepped forward, a white doctor's coat now covering his customary Western style T-shirts and jeans, to offer a confident smile to the group. "Yup," he said (he was a man of few words, mostly because his handler has gone into retirement), and then settled behind the desk.

Ogoti laid aside his notes and books, and then gestured for the Residents to follow him. The group arrived in time to hear Klaus mention a dragon-litch. Minerva was already present, as was Giovenith, Romulus, and the two large cyborgs.

They were joined shortly after by Amara and Ocho. These two helped themselves to coffee and tea before finding seats. (Rodney needed to get information from his apartment. Alas, FUBAR was still guarding the hall.)


VARG

Deep within Gryhm Pass, along the Bitterswept Spine, Varg sat brooding in the remnants of his one-cozy cave. It was nothing more than a scooped out hollow now, exposed on three sides and uncomfortably rocky. Not that it mattered to an undead dragon though, to be fair, Varg saw it as just one more cruel injustice lobbed at him. Oh, he was a misunderstood thing. How could anyone treat another being so? Poor, poorly-done-by Varg!

It didn't matter that he'd waged war on every last thing in the Wold. It didn't matter that he'd gone to Ascalon while it was still a miserable wood-hut settlement and set fire to everything for his own amusement. It didn't matter that he'd sent his undead minions to rape anything not clever enough to run for its life. Nor did it matter that he tore up dwarf empires and elvish kingdom alike before setting his sights on the Fae (and trouncing the fuck out of them in the process). No, it only mattered that poor, neglected, abused Varg was picked upon for no good reason at all. The bastards! The thieves! The ungrateful pieces of shit!

A withered tongue licked the grime from his claws as he pondered all these things, and then he turned his back to the world to tuck his rotting head under his equally rotting tail. Mother nature would soon draw a snowy blanket over him, tucking his cold body in for the long winter, and granting him the ability to slowly gather energy again. Ho shit, come spring! In a few months time, he would shake the crap from back and take flight to shower abuse and suffering upon all the lands. He wasn't totally ungrateful however. He'd return to his former place of imprisonment to thank the powerful mages that had freed them - and then suck every last bit of energy from them. Their husks would blow across the meadow by time he was done.


RACHE AND WILLOW

Meanwhile, in a dimension far away from ogres, dragon-litches and vroo, two ponies rested upon their cloud beds. All four of Rache's legs stuck up in the air as he rolled onto his back. Feather wings splayed themselves on the soft mattress. The daemonpony began to wiggle as he worked the kinks from his spine while also giving himself a good scratch. He rolled his head to the side to stare at Willow with one eye. "The plan? Don't have one. Yet."

Rache rolled to the side to tuck a leg under his head. "I have many questions though, and several half-baked theories. Wait a moment."

The room's shadows seemed to grow as the daemon worked his magic. It was a protective sphere, entirely unlike the ones normally cast by cultists back at the Building, but it would do the job of keeping prying ears from listening in.

"Alright, first off: How do we know that Commander Hurricane's current mission isn't the one that leads to the cave where the Seconds taking charge? If it is the same mission, we must get Pansy there in order for history to follow course. If it isn't, we must keep her safe at all costs. You never mentioned a Cloud Duster in your story. For better or worse, we're stuck with him," Rache scratched his belly with a hoof as he considered the strange pony's inclusion, "and if we're stuck with him, you should know I don't trust him. I pick up strange emotions from him. I can't say he intends to do any harm. I can say that he reeks of the sort of mental static that would make him a suitable daemon host. Meaning he seems to have gone 'round the twist."

Rache's eyes took on a concerned look at he rolled onto his belly. "Willow, be very careful around him. He's eternally plotting in an attempt to stay several steps ahead of us. I wouldn't put it past him to harm you if you got in the way of his plans. I've pried very little because I want him to think we're taking everything he says at face value. The more pressure we apply while teasing information from him, the more he might suspect us."

He didn't give Willow time to respond before moving on to another concerning matter. "Earlier, I could have sworn I picked up Yuna's spiritual scent. She's tainted by Chaos, being a cultist in training. I didn't feel as though she was fearful, but it does confirm that at least one of the people at that table followed us here. Perhaps the artifact did it? Don't know. Don't care. She'll recognize your flank mark, and might recognize mine, but - in the heat of the moment - we must exercise care. If she's infiltrated ranks here - as any proper cultist should - we don't want to cast light on it. She might have wings. She might be one of the other types of ponies. She might still have her strange form. We've got to find her."

Rache rolled off the cloud and sat down on the floor at the edge of Willow's own bed. "And now I'd like your permission to use my magic on you. Not to harm you, of course. If this is your dimension, you will match it. If this is an alternate dimension, you'll sound slightly off-key. And, if this is an alternate dimension, all the history of yours goes right out the window. We'll have to start playing it by ear and hope we don't muck it up too badly."
Last edited by Cerillium on Sun Jan 31, 2016 4:03 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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New Aksarben
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Ex-Nation

Postby New Aksarben » Sun Jan 31, 2016 12:21 pm

Maghrl padded along behind the group heading upstairs, following Minerva's orders. She did seem to have taken charge after all, whoever she was. The Squib declined getting any coffee, just wasn't his thing. He sat down in a seat close to the front, his short stature meaning his legs were left to dangle for the normal human height chair. But that was something squib were used to!

And about this dragon business, Maghrl had long since decided to go. His abilities would definitely be an aid to fighting such a monstrous sounding thing. So once there was a small break in them discussing sending this other knight, Maghrl spoke up to the ones who seemed to be organizing it.

"Maghrl wish go fight Varg-dragon too. Maghrl be Jedi Knight, might be able to keep track of Varg-dragon pieces when Group breaks him. Make sure get all before piecewise run away. If Varg-dragon present in Force, Maghrl track it, you bet!" Maghrl grinned, his eyes bright and confident to their future success. Though he did keep it in mind he'd never faced something like a dragon before, let alone an undead one. Who knew what the fight would be like, certainly not Maghrl.

--------------

"Well at least everything seems okay for now... Wonder what this meeting's about." Sterling whispered to himself as the group left the hospital heading to the dining room. Such a busy day, and it seemed their plan for the magic conclave would be put on hold for now, with whatever had happened.

Sterling trotted into the dining room after Ogoti, catching the words dragon-litch and his blood ran cold. A dragon, here? And what was a litch? The pony was very familiar with how nasty dragons could be, even in modern Equestria they were a danger. Whole villages sometimes up and vanished during their migratory seasons! though luckily by now most ponies knew to stay away from anywhere known to be the home of a dragon. Was a dragon on its way here? Or what?

"Oh... Oh no not a Dragon..." The pony lamented, sitting down in a seat of his own after having picked up a mug of coffee. The pony's tail swished agitate under him brushing the ground as his ears laid flat back against his head. "This is not going to be good... No not at all..."
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The BranRiech
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Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Sun Jan 31, 2016 12:24 pm

Bran and Drova

The two hadn't planned on meeting, in-fact, the two barely knew each other.

Though Drova knew who Bran was, and Bran knew who Drova was. Drova was one of the strange beings that lived underneath his homeland, with their wings and white hair, and rather secretive nature (The fact that the Branriech Government hadn't even established ties with the Pyersai yet was evidence enough). Though as Drova looked at Bran, he was thinking the exact same thing.

Bran was one of those humans that lived above his homeland, a descendant of those Humans that had killed so many of his own people.

Was the Emperor from earlier in tow as well?

Drova wondered, still trying to carry his posture high, back straightened. It looked much better than the slouch he'd been walking around with earlier, and the two men passed by the other, Bran ascending from his PA system, and Drova coming down the stairs.

The two Branriechians didn't even speak to the other, as they both walked into the dining room, where others were already gathering. "I did it, comrades." The conscript announced, walking over to join Minerva, Klaus, and Romulus. "And got up here quick, is there still coffee?"

Meanwhile, Drova respectfully bowed his head as he entered, and sat down nearby.

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Highfort
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Postby Highfort » Sun Jan 31, 2016 2:07 pm

Septimus made his way up to the dining-turned-war room as mentioned, though he was disturbed by Minerva's raw words. A political shift in the Building would only divide the Residents when they were already weak, and he had little doubt that if their neighbors detected weakness they would be quick to exploit it. As much as the Building was a product of Demens' magic, so was this entire world. Who was to say that the Building was impregnable to outsider attack in this world?

Who's to say that Demens would stop them?

As he ascended the steps to the dining room, the cyborg felt an increasingly-annoying throb assault his temple. Though his processor was doing an admirable job of dealing with the alcohol - serves it right for being such a shithead and manipulating him in the first place - it did little to alleviate the stress brought on both by Neste's apparent suicidal attempt at rebirth and the newfound problem of Wold laws. The pain of the former he'd buried in drink, and now that he was nearly sober he could feel it reasserting itself at the back of his mind.

He shook it off as best he could, though he had to wipe away stray tears. Septimus Itum was the Building Representative. He had work to do - personal concerns came later. They always did.

This behavior was not lost on the bulky combat android as he ascended alongside the Representative, following him to the "war room" that Minerva had mentioned.

Silence reigned on the steps, punctuated by the clanging of Opa's metal feet. He was not a consolation or a psychotherapy droid; he had no such training for this. The best he could do was ask how he could help - but as Septimus was blacklisted, Opa was not to help him. So long as the former Brother lived, that was all that mattered.

Arriving at the dining room without much fanfare, Septimus took a seat at one of the open tables. Opa awkwardly stood, awaiting further orders and periodically scanning the room for hostiles as was expected at political rallies and meetings.

"Captain Blackwater, Mr. Klaus," Septimus nodded at them both before offering a tired smile that he hoped was disarming, "What's the situation right now? Who's going on the dragon hunt and who's holding down the fort here? I hope we're not sacrificing any of the Building's defenses to accomplish this quest; we don't exactly have friendly relations with everyone on this world yet."

"Captain," Opa picked up on Septimus' dialogue and addressed himself at the leather-clad woman, "Perhaps I could. Be of assistance? Is the slaying. Of this beast. Necessary to the. Tenement's survival?"

"It's just called the Building," Septimus rubbed his forehead in embarrassment, "Apologies. Confederation combat droids don't have the best tact programmed into them and Opa's even a newer model. Should've fixed that by now, hmph."
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Northwest Slobovia
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Postby Northwest Slobovia » Sun Jan 31, 2016 3:07 pm

Cerillium wrote:The Building's front door opened just wide enough for Volker to stick his head out. "Ms. Bela? Everyone's gathering upstairs in the dining room."

Amanda watched the ogres' retreating backs for a moment before nodding at Volker and re-entering the lobby. She took a few seconds to strap her holster on, then headed up the stairs. The ogres regarded her as an inferior, but they were willing to answer her questions. That would have to do: she knew what to tell Kale. More importantly, she had strong hints about the Woldkin's claims of jurisdiction: they may not assert jurisdiction over the Building or the Residents, but they did claim everything around them. That would be tricky to work with.

Amanda entered the dining room, grabbed a pair of empty coffee cups, and took a seat next to Sandy. His eyes were all questions. "Dragon-lich?"

Amanda frowned, shaking her head in annoyance, then whispered rapidly to him. "Demens needs driving lessons. Or he has a strange sense of humor. Either way, our arrival broke an enchantment binding it to the spot. There's a lot more to the story, and you'll have to ask Anais for the details, but the short form is that the ogres are something like the Freywold's cops, and they want us to deal with the dragon thing. They think we'll find it at a particular place in the Freywold, some days' march away."

Sandy's brow furrowed deeply: undead were out of his league. He knew nothing of necromacy. He started hesitantly, speaking quietly. "I could provide support for an expedition, but... I'd need a lot of help to contribute to the fighting." Magical help of course. Sandy wanted to know more about the Wold, but knowledge was no use to him dead.

Sensing her flying pony-prince's mood, Amanda added a final whispered comment with a hint of smile. "You made quite an impression on the Fey..." Her smile faded. "...but there's more to the story. I'll tell you later."

Sandy wasn't sure what to make of that, but he conjured coffee for Amanda and mocha for himself.
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Mincaldenteans
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Ex-Nation

Postby Mincaldenteans » Sun Jan 31, 2016 4:00 pm

WARDROOM
Alexia and Hunter strode in, having been recalled by the hail from Bran for all residents to meet in the Dining Room. While one questioned her abilities, the other felt useless in this situation, nonetheless it was always better to heed the call. The monk joined the rest of her guild, an extra seat was saved for her while Hunter joined Dan and the two exchanged quick hellos. Hunter gave a reader's digest version about the Ogres' visit, about Varg the Dragonlich, and the mention of the fae. It peaked Dan's interest that if Winter had a presence, so would Summer. It warmed the young fae to know his kind were around, though he wondered if they were the same as back home? Only way to find out was to join the quest and go part of the way. Too soon to tell as people were still converging into the wardroom.

The Klingons stood at the far end, murmuring to themselves. Neither seemed thrilled by the thought of hunting an abomination and both had considered the building's defense first rather than some wild chase. Were it a hunt for targ or quest to slay a mighty warlord (picture of the Mof came to mind even though him and his majestic people were peacekeepers); the two would have volunteered without question. Parlor tricks of the eye did not hold much sway to either Klingons despite being exposed to Chaos and grudgingly accepting the boons bestowed upon them. Tavana entertained the idea of traveling getting to know the Ogres and Mezran agreed. Perhaps another time.

A tall, lithe figure entered the room, displaying the comportment of a rightful queen. Dan hesitated a look upon her, feeling the bitter chill of Winter at her arrival. Hunter recognized her immediately, although he averted his gaze quickly. The winter queen spotted a few familiar faces, a hint of a smile as she noted the fearful Summer born and with the exception Amanda, whom she gave a wink as she passed, made no other outward acknowledgment of the others. The Winter sidhe stood by herself at the farthest wall away from the rest of the Residents, content to distance herself from the rest while she entertained curiosity from the call of a meeting.
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Primordial Luxa
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Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Sun Jan 31, 2016 5:08 pm

Primordial
“I will try” Primordial said leaning over towards Septimus “But some of them seemed very hostile to the idea of working together without some sort of large bureaucratic meeting beforehand so I’m not sure how many will participate but I can try.” His attention suddenly shifted as Minerva entered the room. The Luxan response to Minerva’s arrival was sudden and noticeable. He immediately perked up from his languid state of mental pondering and gave the woman his full attention. It was more attention then he seemed to have given the ogres or even some of the other residents. Not only that it was a natural friendly sort of attention that was most notable as the kind of look he gave to the other Luxans.

He’s smiled with a look of relief as Minerva began to give out instructions to the various people present and nodded simply at her when she requested information on the undead. He stood up briskly and ventured upstairs to the DEiMOS. He had altered much of its layout since the Luxans arrival in this universe partially to keep the device stable under these condition and also because Insidious had request “a change of scenery”.

So when Primordial entered the newly refurbished DEiMOS he smelled the clean tang of heavily polished metals and overflowing electricity. The entire place had the synthetically clean glow of an emergency room and it appeared much more modern compared to the Luxan usual Victorian and Gothic tastes. Now instead of candles to cast eerie shadows there were glass shielded tesla coils sticking out of the walls and ceiling. Walking under them sent slight tickles down Primordials spine, but he ignored the sensation as they walked down the long corridor until he reached a paneled wall with a strange Aklo symbol on it.

At the touch of his unnaturally clammy hands the green faintly fluorescent wall panel slid away to reveal an equally bare and sterile passageway to another section of the DEiMOs. Primordial followed it to the library which was one of the large rooms in the building. This time the library looked less like the study of a British noble and more like the bank vaults of a plastic shortage area. The walls extended fall and each was covered in hundreds of small thousands of boxy containers. In the center of the room was a table with a film of glowing buttons and Primordial began using this to type out the various books he needed.

As he typed the boxes on the wall floated out of their crevices and into a stack on the table he was working at. He decided on a collection of around three dozen books on any subject he thought might be useful. Among this collection he had the classic Egyptian Book of the Dead and Book of the Livings whose names and subjects were antithetical. There was Knjiga Mrtva a Serbian text written by the most accomplish vampire hunter the Baron had even heard of and the The Lexicon of Balshadnu written upon supposedly cursed vellum. The Luxan also brought the Cultes Des Goules a French manuscript written about all those things that stocked mankind's graveyards and contained their secrets and hidden knowledge. He had the De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis and the fifth volume of Revelations of Glaaki which was never to read aloud. Finally after collecting a piles of books he felt were necessary, with shaking hands Primordial requested the dreaded Necronomicon from the far side of the room. Such a book was supreme when dealing with death and the Mythos. But even Primordial hesitated to use its awful knowledge.

With the collection of books floating mechanically over his shoulder he then turned his attention towards the DEiMOS’s storage rooms in an effort to collect powerful trinkets that might prove useful in dealing with Varg. Among the items he collected were a variety of arcanotech potions, substances and powders that were known or rumor to weaken the dead or undead. Think like classical garlic and holy water were among these as well as religious icons and scrolls painted with banishing texts, but there were also more scientific Luxan items which mixed the arcane and the mechanical.

Once Primordial felt he had collected as much as was necessary to complete their task he exited the DEiMOS with a small train of floating boxes behind him stuffed with books and artifacts. He entered the War Room with this trail of boxes and using his telekinetic abilities directed them to rest in various out of the way locations where they wouldn't disturb anyone and would be disturbed in turn.
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TotallyNotEvilLand
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Founded: May 29, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby TotallyNotEvilLand » Sun Jan 31, 2016 5:32 pm

With little else to do, the sibling duo of Crysal and Adri ran into one another during their aimless wanderings about the building, and made their way to the dining room. Primarily for snacks and drinks, though as they realized a meeting was going to occur soon enough they'd decided that they would stay. Adri briefly waved across the room to Minerva, smiling softly as she sipped at a cup of water.
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Giovenith
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Posts: 19639
Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Sun Jan 31, 2016 6:09 pm

Building

"Hurting dragons?" Giovenith gasped, bringing her fists to her cheeks in distress. She looked between the cyborgs and Klaus frantically. "But... but..."

Oh no! Giovenith didn't want to choose between her friends and her pantheon values. They wanted Marcus to come and help? She didn't want to put Marcus in a bad position of having to choose sides...

"But why?" her voice cracked and her eyes glistened.


Rache and Willow

Willow was admittedly taken off guard by a lot of things Rache had said and had to commend him for catching them for him.

"I certainly would hope he didn't already make his way to the cave," he said, now feeling a sense of urgency. "Not only would Pansy not be with him, but we'd also have no way of knowing if the other members of the tribes are on their way there either. It will all be pointless if not all three races are represented."

All of this was insanely difficult beyond what Willow could have guessed at. It was trouble enough trying to balance maintaining history with finding their friends (which he held in equal regard), but it would be even worse if Commander Hurricane was blatantly going off-script for whatever reason. Could they have caused this somehow? Was time travel like in the movies where even killing a little bug could cause some great catastrophe in the distant future? No... no, Rache had experience with time travel and he didn't seem too concerned about that. Besides, they had arrived after Commander Hurricane left, so it couldn't have been them.

Rache's thoughts about Cloud Duster were the most surprising to the artist, if only due to how heavy the daemon's comparisons were. Maybe it was because of the different experiences the two of them had with the guy (what with the Private literally saving his life and comforting him at the museum), but to Willow, Duster largely came across as a normal, helpful pony who just wasn't very comfortable talking about his family for whatever reason, who maybe also suffered from a little time period-related moral dissonance.

"You really think he's so bad that you could stuff a daemon into him?" the painter cringed a little. "Don't you think that's a little... extreme? I mean, okay, I know I'm the one who told you to be careful about not judging ponies by their appearances, and you do have way more expertise in that area than me, but that's a pretty high level of twisted, isn't it? How does a seventeen-year-old pony of all things just get that crazy out of nowhere?"

The suggestion was made more chilling given their current location; it was a given that in any military-based society citizens were likely to be lacking a certain warmth to them, but Rache didn't have a problem with any of them, it was only the random teenage novice that blipped on his psycho radar. Willow trusted Rache's intuition, but it really begged the question of what could possibly be so damn wrong with somepony like Cloud Duster that he stood out and not any of the soldiers, veterans, or other ponies who were way more likely to have an extensive relationship with violence and terror than a Private.

Yuna. Yuna was one of Giovenith's friends, so he couldn't help but lend some of his own brotherly regard for the godling to the princess. You also protected the peers of the individuals you protected, yes? He hoped Rache was right and that she had put her ingenuity to the test with blending in with the natives. The best case scenario is that like with Rache, she (and the others as well) had been morphed into the appropriate pony race of whatever territory they fell into and were being treated well.

"The best chance we currently have at finding the others is using the diplomacy opening Star Catcher gave us to our advantage," he said. "We'll have to be careful about not blowing our cover, but we can't leave them out alone for too long. I mean, at least you've got me to give you a little bit of information about blending in, but they're just going on their guts. I do hope what you said about Yuna is true..."

Magic? He didn't have a problem with that, not if it would help them decide what to do. He nodded. "You have my permission."
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