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

[Torsiedelle]

Torii nodded and stepped away from Klaus. He was a little intimidating to her, but she realized that he was just letting them go. She followed Myra back and helped put away the medical supplies.

On the way back, Torii thought about what Myra told her. She felt nervous, but she new that she should see Drova. That, and maybe Tsu. She was still confused.

Inside, Torii quickly out the supplies away and popped her back, taking a breather. The clubhouse, then? Ain't hung out there in a while. I wouldn't mind chips, either.", she agreed with Myra. "I wonder if Drova will come."

She gulped. She still had something to talk about with the boy. Would he still want to see her?

[The Carlisle]

Kale looked up to the giant man in the thick armor, surprised by his sudden appearance. Wasn't an everyday occurrence to see a huge man in a metal suit. But she listened to what he said, his commanding voice making her intently follow his briefing. So they were retrieving a machine of sorts. Sounded to her like a Drone, but she lacked knowledge in that field so it remain an assumption. Plus, FUBAR was a drone and he was on their side and seemingly friendly. Or it could be different. Despite being here for some time, she didn't know everyone, so it could be theirs.

"My name is Kale," she said, "Nice to meet you...... Remus?" She blanked out on his name as per usual.

Her friendly and confused face disappeared, replaced with one of concern. She overheard what Marcus said to Varona, and she immediately started worrying. She couldn't use her magic, and she wouldn't. Too much risk, what if something went wrong? She could get them all killed with one slip up. Images of the grass impaling the people started filling her mind, trying to push them away, her face starting to go white.

"I-I... I can't use my magic... I'm sorry... but I can't," She said, shaken but loud enough to hear.

[Giovenith]

"It doesn't bother me none," Willow said. "No offense to our friends, but I wouldn't choose to be human. OH-! Pssst!"

Willow threw a forearm over his face to avoid the rush of birds flying out of the tree, protecting his eyes from their feathers and claws. He gave a quick eye narrow downward at Klaus but brushed it off, carefully hovering by the foliage itself to search for some prime fruit.

"No, nothing familiar to me," he casually answered the cat as he carefully inspected the fruits. "I just the aesthetic threw me off is all, I'm sort of sensitive to these things."

Once he'd chosen a few apples, he backed away from the tree and stuffed them into his pockets. "I know you're a carnivore, so when we get back to the Building, I can open you up a can of tuna if you'd like. We should probably get back there right about now though."

--

"That's very true," Giovenith nodded, catching some of Sandy's worry. "For all we know, we could be stepping into someone else's beef."

This was actually a fair degree more worrisome than their old battle. Culturally, there was very little trepidation enforced upon Giovenith when it came to standing against mortals who throwing a fit, but up against other powers-that-be was another. It was a bias certainly, but a bias that existed for a reason.

"It will be unfortunate if there are no uncharred remains left. But..." the godling sighed. "If we are to go by what the Mayor said, I figure we will most definitely have plenty of opportunities to gather samples." She grew a determined look. "I believe we should help them, but up better defenses and safeguards. At the very least some kind of fence, or saferooms, or something. If they will take our help at all, of course."

[Cerillium]

"Then it can be a project for Rachelle and I." Bran responded to the idea that the helicopter would need to be modified. The boy wasn't wrong in the slightest, unless some fuel could be scrounged up from somewhere nearby. "Definitely possible, but now, we've got enough to go for a few hours yet." He nodded, lugging open the cargo door to reveal the space inside.

The space inside was quite spacious, with several jumpseats right down the middle with some rudimentary seatbelts spread between them. It certainly wasn't a comfortable arrangement, but it could carry around 10 fully loaded soldiers. On the walls opposite the benches in the middle, various pouches and boxes hung from the indoor side of the fuselage. They rustled and bounced against the walls as the chopper was rolled back to the landing pad.

"Everyone inside!" Bran shouted over the various questions being asked, trying to make eye contact with everyone, including Romulus. Bran's eyes widened, the burly brute of a man was intimidating enough, but would he even fit in the chopper, and what of Marcus?

"If you can't get the seatbelts on, just uh, hold onto stuff, I'll take it easy as we get over there."

Hopping off of the passenger-step up to the cargo bay, Bran's trench-coat fluttered as he ran over to the cockpit, clambering up a few foot-grooves in the side, up into the open window. As soon as he was in, the window was pulled shut, and a low hum started whirring up, some sputtering puking out of the engines.

Minverva's Lads took shelter in the hangar as the chopper's blades scattered ash that had settled onto the roof. The clouds were impressive at a distance, billowing white and grey soot curling into intricate vortices as the aircraft lifted and hovered. Bran's vantage point allowed him to see the distant horizon once more. The greenery would be refreshing to his eyes, offset by the scorched earth below him.

FUBAR and Nila remained in the distance. Not too far from the gravel road, they had been joined by a large truck and the massive blob that was Ocho. The thade and Thaddeus diligently worked to identify lift points along the exo's frame and armor. It wouldn't be impossible but the task would be daunting. As protective measure, Nila had been aborted and was swaddled a blanket in the truck's cab. Buttons would balance her weight without need of her pilot's guidance.

Ocho's remaining ear flicked. He rose upright on his legs to face the sound, both sets of arms held akimbo. "Helicopter."

The dot in the sky enlarged as Bran approached; Ocho closed his nostrils to slits and Thaddeus slipped on his respirator. The helicopter came to hover above them, its blades exposing blackened ground and filling the air with fine particulate matter. Marcus leaned out the door to survey the scene.

FUBAR's drab hull, now coated in ashen grey, supported a dog-like creature. Heavily muscled forelimbs held her torso from the ground although her massive shoulders and withers shuddered from the effort. Marcus groaned upon seeing her posterior was down. In any animal, it was indication that life was waning.

Buttons pinched her jaws and vibrant blue eyes shut. Ears laid back along her skull tightly enough to be indistinguishable from the quills crowning head, neck and spine. Twin, rearward-facing nostrils bordering her atlas labored to intake oxygen. Her flanks violently stretched and receded as her diaphragm spread her ribs, each inhale stretching tight the chains linking her obsidian-hued armor's shoulder plates, and each exhale blowing soot from her back and scattering mucous droplets into the air.

"It might be best if Romulus and I disembark. That area looks like a total breathing hazard. Varona and Kale, would you mind serving as spotters to each side? You'll be able to tell us if things start to go sour, plus you can see if any Fiends are moving towards us from the distance. We'll drive the truck back to the Building."

The boy regarded Romulus' power armor. "If you can withstand it, Sir? Meaning no offense or implication that it's inferior."

He pulled his satchel forward and extracted his own respirator. A soft click indicated that the magnets embedded in his facial bones had secured the device in place. His head tilted. An internal static burst indicated incoming communication to his processor. Marcus relayed the message from his father. "If we touch down first, they'll put the pilot and Thaddeus on board. He's the only one knowledgeable in her physiology. Heh. Nifid medic, anyone?"

The exo's head lifted and her lips parted to expose multiple rows of needle-shaped teeth, several of which were longer than Romulus was tall. Marcus was briefly treated to a view straight down her gullet before Buttons snapped at the helicopter. They were too far away to be touched but the violent display and wicked sound sent a shiver down the boy's spine.

"Let's avoid the business end, shall we?" he gulped and then grimaced beneath his respirator. "The thade produce the strongest armor this side of the galaxy, and exos bite and claw through it like it was butter."

The helicopter touched down several meters from the group on the ground. Marcus disembarked and covered his head as he jogged towards his awaiting father.

[Fvaarniimar]

<No, I wouldn't choose to be human either...although it was interesting seeing things from that perspective at the Carnival this year. Honestly, I think I mostly like the colors they see.> A bird swooped fairly close to Nick; instinct and careful timing allowed him to swat it with a paw, although he retracted his claws at the last instant; it was in sport. A tad sore and with a few bent feathers, it flew off, cheeping indignantly. This did have the effect of disrupting the contact as the paws shuffled around. Nick reestablished it. <You're alright? Huh...It's weird that you don't find it weirdly familiar. We as Residents share a lot of experiences - if it's not familiar from Bielefeld or something similar - and that familiarity has lasted too long without any cause for it to be my recognition - then it could be familiar from before that -

<In which case just what would something from my past be doing on another world?!...I don't want tuna right now. I just ate -> and it resembles cat food - <but I honestly would like to try a tiny slice of apple...> Something else said registered. <We're returning already? Why?>

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Burrows

"Demens isn't one to ask for worship," Klaus leaned his elbows on the top of the fence. "My guess is they do it anyway. Chaotic gods aren't like Creators. Fickle. Very fickle. I haven't been inside the church to see what it's about. For all we know, they embrace a philosophy or engage in meditation rather than praying to a deity. I prefer to worship the mighty coffee bean. There's a pub in the inn here, but I think I might skip in in favor of Minerva's special blend."

Amanda nodded along with Klaus' suggestion about the Demens and the church. There weren't many better people she could ask about gods or the beliefs of people on new worlds. She made a mental note to see if anybody was in the church... after finding out if the inn served breakfast.

She broke into a knowing smile when Klaus mentioned the Sacred Path of Coffee. "Ah, a fellow true believer! I belong to a different sect, though: I follow Saint Sandy of Vanilla. I swore up and down that I hated French coffee, but he found the right way: just the tiniest drop of vanilla. Perhaps we can compare theologies some time."

He pushed off the rail and neatened himself. "Beside, my beloved is due to die soon. Next verse, same as the first, and she sings that song twice a day. I hate being apart from her when she goes."

Amanda's smile melted away as she tried to make sense of that, and she gave Klaus a baffled look. I must have misheard... No, Minerva has a literal inner demon. Maybe he means that literally too. "Well, I guess you should be with her then." Amanda wasn't sure that was the right thing to say, but she had no idea what would be.

"The strangeness occurs when you get down into the gritty details of what actually just happen. On paper its not that unusual, but do remember the average apartment dweller has fought off alien invasion, but when you look at it all under a microscope it can shatter your very basic understanding of nature and reality. The piecing together of disjointed facts and events can suddenly lead to revelations that cause such stress on the mind that it snaps like a twig. Luckily people in the modern age are slowly eased into crazy notions about things like this so its less damaging but if you jump in the deep end or meddle with the wrong things it can be very strange."

"You see i'm not super, just well informed, anyone or anything could do what I just did. Did you know that using arcanotech you can control your gravitational field the same way you can control you breathing? That's all I did a little bit of focus and a minor sacrifice and I shifted the small amount of gravity my body has into several different locations causing the apple to be stuck in a gravity well and float over her. Theoretically if I had enough resources I could do it on a larger scale and cause all sorts of crazy things to happen."

Amanda listened intently to the first part of Primordial's explanation -- she'd only ever heard Sandy talk about the guts of magic before -- but then her face momentarily flashed a sour expression before becoming carefully neutral. After he finished speaking, Amanda seemed to study the apple tree for a little while before turning back to him. "What do you do when you're not on the sales floor? For fun or relaxation, I mean. I sing. Sandy plays basketball. We both cook and bake. How about you?"

The Building

She grew a determined look. "I believe we should help them, but up better defenses and safeguards. At the very least some kind of fence, or saferooms, or something. If they will take our help at all, of course."

Sandy nodded once, then seemed to stare off into the middle distance for a second before speaking again. "Mercer said they're safe enough if they lock themselves in their houses, and with their sheep gone, there shouldn't be anybody else out at night. But maybe we can station some people in their village, or use it as a base of maneuver. We really need to find out about the Fiends' leaders, if any, because--"

Septimus coughed ostentatiously. "The common kitchen will do for breakfast. Nothing we're discussing needs to be kept behind closed doors, and if it does then we need to reconsider exactly whether we can trust people in the Building."

Sandy looked a bit embarrassed: they were going to eat breakfast before they'd gotten distracted. He followed Itum into the dining room. Somebody had run clothes lines and hung sheets and tablecloths from them to divide half of the entrance wall and the adjacent wall from the clinic area. Most of the common kitchen's storage was along the longer leg of the screened off L-shaped area. A few tables had been moved into the corner, where there was a bit of room. Something on the clinic side played sounds of falling rain and ocean waves to mask noises that would disturb Ogoti's patients.

"I haven't been in here since we moved in. Where is everything?" Sandy started to search for food and things to eat it with, eventually coming up with an economy-sized box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs, a bowl, and spoon. He eyed the cereal suspiciously, shaking his head and muttering something about kids these days. Sandy sat down, poured the cereal into a bowl, conjured some milk to cover it, and trepidatiously tasted a tiny bit. "Mmmph! Sweet!"

[OOC: Septimus Itum appears courtesy of the Confederation Collective Council for the Promotion of Unity and Truth
and
The Office of Plot Advancement, Department of Modern and Emergent Arts, Culture Agency, Northwest Slobovian Ministry of Tourism]

[Primordial Luxa]

Amanda listened intently to the first part of Primordial's explanation -- she'd only ever heard Sandy talk about the guts of magic before -- but then her face momentarily flashed a sour expression before becoming carefully neutral. After he finished speaking, Amanda seemed to study the apple tree for a little while before turning back to him. "What do you do when you're not on the sales floor? For fun or relaxation, I mean. I sing. Sandy plays basketball. We both cook and bake. How about you?"

"Mental and physical stimulation mostly" he said bluntly "Either that or indulge in various hedonistic pastimes, TV, radio, exotic food so on and so forth. Mostly I just try and get myself back to a state of emotional anguish and spiritual elevation through whatever sort of substance or art I can mange to create. However recently I've been too busy to just relax...I probably should when next I have a chance. My friends do much the same, Insidious is very good at synthetically controlling her emotions in way I never can she can stagger her chemical intake...well its just this indescribable sensation. Aegis normally just exercises while doing all of that however." He paused here and began walking towards some of the stalls trying to see exactly what was being sold around here. He also changed the topic because he got the feeling that in hindsight it might have been a bad idea to speak so candidly. "What do you sing exactly?"

[Torsiedelle]

Ugh, she was tired...

Katya slung the heavy rifle over her shoulder and brushed her hair with her free hand. There was still work to be done, it seemed. She'd also have to clean their apartment once they got back.

That would wait, however. The woman spotted the little girl who she'd talked to once before. What was she doing? It made Katya curious, of course, so she decided to walk over and scoot into a seat, setting the rifle against the wall. "Hello.", she greeted Rwmtyllin. "Long time no see. Were you as surprised by the attack as me and my sister were?"

[Fvaarniimar]

"...Ttoo." 
"Also," Duncan translated.
"T-hee."
"Laugh sound." 
Why, the girl wondered, do so many sentences have these laugh sounds?  A sense of humor?
...Maybe she was making a mistake.  She sighed, pushing out her lips. 
"Bu-illdin-g."
"Scary noise sick loud noise..."
"Ohn."
"To possess."
"T-he."
That red-poop-covered laughing sound again.
"Corner."
"Corner.  Hello.  Long time -"

"Ohf."  Rmwtyliin, at last noticing Katya's presence, marked her place with a finger - marking it with ink would have been convenient, but the material was surely very expensive and she feared trouble were she to mar it - and turned around.  She knew that she knew this woman... Something nice... A spoon... Tea... Right. The memory was faint, and she was uncertain as to the name... Would it be politer to pretend full memory of the woman? She seemed to be a person of significance. She drank enough tea to know how it was drunk; she lived in the Building -

"No see. Were you as surprised by the attack as me and my sister were?  Oaf."

Relief. The woman had asked a question. No need for pretense to avoid insult. "I was very surprised, yes. It was early in the morning -" Would continuing be wise? She did not wish to bore this woman. However, Rmwtyliin seemed to recall her being patient and listening - "And some force threw the pillow Duncan sleeps on across m - the room. It hit my face. I thought -" she gulped - "I thought it was my brother...Uh - and soon after there was a very loud yell, and Duncan translated, and..." Her eyes widened as she thought back. "Wow. It all happened so fast!" It was polite to ask people about themselves... "You said that it surprised you and y-your sister as well?"

[Torsiedelle]

Katya chuckled and nodded. "Yes, it caused quite a commotion, but we're were just shaken up. I'm sorry for your, um, pet, however."

Her gaze shifted to the lobby door, outside, thenear back to the girl. Katya curled up, putting her legs up and getting comfy in her seat. "You have a brother? I didn't know that. Oh, and are you reading something? I'm awfully sorry to disturb you."

[Swith Witherward]

Torii nodded and stepped away from Klaus. He was a little intimidating to her, but she realized that he was just letting them go. She followed Myra back and helped put away the medical supplies.

On the way back, Torii thought about what Myra told her. She felt nervous, but she new that she should see Drova. That, and maybe Tsu. She was still confused.

Inside, Torii quickly out the supplies away and popped her back, taking a breather. The clubhouse, then? Ain't hung out there in a while. I wouldn't mind chips, either.", she agreed with Myra. "I wonder if Drova will come."

She gulped. She still had something to talk about with the boy. Would he still want to see her?

A little effort produced a few bags of chips, some soda in the mini-fridge, and ice from the freezer. Not a bad breakfast considering all they'd gone through. Myra sprawled onto the comfy chair under the window and basked in the sun's warm glow. Shit just didn't feel real yet. This was all like some weird dream. Were it not for her shoulders hurting where the bag straps had dug into them, she could have sworn she was still fast asleep in Bielefeld. The girl kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes to circulate air between them.

"I haven't seen Drova or Yuna in a long time," she said at last, turning her head to see Torii. "Or that rabbit girl. Or Kale. Or even Giovenith. I see Marcus in passing, sometimes, but never for long, and not all all since his parents divorced. Naomi took the kids, so I don't babysit for them anymore."

Her fingers noisily pried the open the chip bag, and then she plucked a good one from the batch and popped it into her mouth. "Hell," she said between chews, "My income is down to almost nothing. Everyone's gone. Miss Charumati's twins. Miss Naomi's Eva and the new baby. I hardly ever see Rachelle roaming the halls these days. Miss Minerva and Mr Klaus have a new baby, but they haven't asked me or Chi to babysit him or Sophie recently. It's kinda depressing, having nothing productive to do."

Another chip, more crunching. "So I write stuff. Stories, and funny news articles that'll never get published anywhere. Now I suppose there's a major story, but I'm too damn tired to try to cover it."

Myra paused and blinked at Torii. "But, if you miss Drova that much, you should hunt him down and see what he's up to. Was he part of the Building defenses?"

[Fvaarniimar]

"Duncan seems alright. I have a brother and sister...They are not here. It is...hard." She took a deep breath, fiddling with a fold of her skirt.
"Ah-ee honestly am grateful to you for the distraction - Ah-ee am trying to improve my speaking of Inn-gllish."  Another sigh.  "... and it seems that more than a fifth of the words are this strange laugh noise, T-hee." Reopening the pamphlet, she pointed to the next "the..."

...Subabsurdus and Main, the very last structure found in the Market District and the home of the Heroes of...

"You speak Inn-glish. Do you know why? I wonder if I am making some mistake."

[Chedastan]

"... Remus?"

That was a name Romulus haven't heard since his Lieutenant years while under General Titus Everest. Remus was his fellow rival Lieutenant all throughout Titus's later campaigns. The two of them were always in friendly competition with one another to curry the most favor from the former old General. Looking back at it though, Romulus didn't think old Titus really noticed or cared for there efforts that much, and in fact he would occasionally confuse the two with one another. When Titus was on his deathbed and the two were present with Wilhelm XXIX, along with several other Lieutenants. Remus was ordered to leave by Wilhelm XXIX himself, saying he had an important task for him to preform that needed to be now. Wilhelm XXIX didn't go into any further details than that, but Remus accepted the task eagerly, and left to do whatever it was. And That was the last time Romulus saw him, right before Wilhelm XXIX made him the new General when Titus's heart gave out. He wondered since then where he was, what he was doing. No doubt he heard of his promotion at least. He wondered if there were any hard feelings from it, he hoped not. He saw him as a brother almost, a valued coworker, a friend. Maybe he's General now, if he was gone long enough for them to declare him missing and likely dead? Assuming he was still alive at that point. It was a mystery that will likely riddle forever, if he can't find a way home.

"No, that was a name of friend of mine actually, a good man. My name is ROM-U-Lus, Kale." He said to the small plant girl, hoping she'll remember better this time.

Romulus could sense some doubt in the hooded cyborg's voice when he mentioned this FUBAR. What an unorthodox name, he wondered who the fool was that came up with it. But what the cyborg said didn't assure him in the slightest of this task, already looking like it might turn out badly somewhere. He hoped it didn't ended up being the case though, as being cut off from the Wilhelm Imperium and being in uncharted territory would hamper him already, and he didn't need some living/bio metal whatever monstrosity to make things worse for him. Hopefully this retrieval goes smoothly though, if nothing goes terribly wrong on someone's end.

---

Romulus was by the hooded cyborg at the door while they surveyed and scanned the surrounding area below. The sunlight reflected brightly off The General's power armor where it was exposed to it from unobstructed beams, as is the intent for most armors in the Wilhelm Imperium's military. As originally the reflective paint for armor was thought of to give the psychological warfare idea that the Imperium's foes were fighting godly beings, or that to show that the Wilhelm Imperium are the chosen of Maccabees, and were thus the beacon of him, and were furthermore unstoppable.

He looked down at what were apparently the biomachine monstrosities, and from the looks of it another crew nearby. The entire area around them looked like scorched earth, and in fact the helicopter was picking a lot of soot and ash from the ground below, was this the destructive force of the Fiends? Dear Wilhelm! The hooded cyborg was right about the hazardous air, as it look like it would likely choke the other two to death, or at least give them a bad case of lung cancer. When the cyborg then concerned himself with Romulus's armor. Romulus politely pointed out the filtration vents on his helmet, to him. "Boy, Wilhelm XXIX damn the maker of this armor if it didn't include a mandatory filtration system for his General." He addressed his concerns, returning his attention back at the monstrosities below. He stared at one that lifted it's head at them, and showed it's many long needled teeth. Then it violently snapped it's jaw at them with an added odd sound.

What the hell did I get myself into?

A thought ran through him as the helicopter came in to land. It's not like the Wilhelm Imperium didn't have it's full share of living metal horrors too, like with whatever the deal was Overlords and Leviathans, and that rare machine virus parasitic that spreads around that often makes more complex equipment messy to use . But this was something very different from that, as he had no idea what he was looking at, let alone dealing with. He wasn't necessarily afraid though, just really unsure of how they're going to do this if this is the case. Well considering they were actually doing, someone must have a good idea of what to do, right?

The helicopter landed, and Romulus got out with the hooded cyborg. He causally walked close behind him, ignoring the biomachines as he walked by, showing he wasn't intimidated by the earlier display. His armor still brightly shined from what light that pierced through that could be reflected, making Romulus almost a beacon in the ash and soot cloud. He saw that the hooded cyborg was jogging towards another cyborg, taller than he is, maybe that hooded cyborg is a subordinate to whoever this is? When he got to them, he remembered that the hooded cyborg said someone named Thaddeus and some pilot will be boarding the craft. Maybe this figure was Thaddeus?

"Thaddeus is it? Allow me to introduce myself to you as General Romulus Aphrodisiac of Wilhelm XXIX, of the Wilhelm Imperium. I see these biomachines here need retrieval." He introduced himself to Thaddeus, looking at the monstrosities nearby.

[Torsiedelle]

"So you're lonely a lot, right?"

Torii took a soda and curled up on the couch. "I didn't know that Marcus's parents were split up. I guess that's something we all have in common, huh.", she said. "It's not fair. Parents need to be there for their kids."

Her gaze fell on the TV in front of them. Torii turned it on to provide some background noise. "I don't think Drova was helping with defense. I was hoping he'd find me. I think I might give him a chance, after our talk."

She took a few sips of her drink and cleared her throat. "So, you don't see us a lot? You can always hang out with me and my sister if you want."

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

Katya nodded in understanding. "I see. I can imagine how you'd feel. I get upset, just being away from my sister for a day or two...well, now I do, anyways. I'm sorry."

She smiled. The girl was sweet, and she would be happy to help her. "Do you mean "the?", She asked. "It's a word that you use before a place or thing. For example, the building. It's a place; a general location like a building is like that. Now, "the" doesn't have to be used for places with names, like Subabsurdas. You could all it "the street", if you were referring to it, like if you were in the lobby, going out. If you wanted to be specific, however, if you were telling directions or reading a map, you'd say it's name."

She shook her finger. "Same thing applies to objects. Let's say that book you have is titled "Bielefield" okay? You could call it by it's name, or you could call it "The Book", and that would work in context."

She chuckled. "You must have quite some trouble with English, if you still need help. Don't worry, I had trouble at first, too. My homeland speaks Russian."

[Giovenith]

"I don't think I could handle the wiggly, crawly, soft-claws," Willow winced, inspecting a hoof and uncomfortably imagining a hand there with a grimace. "We'll have to go soon because it's only a matter of time before business is wrapped up and we actually have to make a plan for how we're going to go forward with being stuck here. Why, what we'll do, if we can make it back. We don't have to go right away, but we can't stay long."

Apples collected, Willow gently flew above the tree line to the other side and descended on the ground, sliding Nick down on one of his wings. There, he shook an apple from a pocket onto the ground and carefully pressed down on it with his front hooves. The fruit cracked open messily, rigid rather than the neat slices that would be made by a knife, but far from being gushy apple sauce. It worked well enough, and the pony gently pushed over the slices to Nick.

"There you go," he said, rolling another apple down his foreleg into his own hoof, taking a bite into it raw. "You know, I actually did meet two other talking ponies here. You never know, maybe we can find someone like you too."

--

Not in the mood to cook, Giovenith popped some toaster waffles, and sat down to wait for them to be through toasting.

"Not sure about all this," she admitted to Sandy, looking around. "Must be very recent, probably the extra room for all the refugees."

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Burrows

"Mental and physical stimulation mostly" he said bluntly "Either that or indulge in various hedonistic pastimes, TV, radio, exotic food so on and so forth. [...] He paused here and began walking towards some of the stalls trying to see exactly what was being sold around here. He also changed the topic because he got the feeling that in hindsight it might have been a bad idea to speak so candidly. "What do you sing exactly?"

Amanda gave Primordial a funny look, then glanced down, trying to make make sure she caught his meaning. "So... you're a gastronome and an artist?" She spoke with decided hesitation, uncertain of what to make of Primordial's description even after thinking about it. She was tempted to write him off as a hopelessly eccentric spellcaster, but it was hard for her to do so when the god from downstairs had just mentioned that his SO died twice a day, and he felt he should be with her when she did.

"I mostly sing popular songs. But also some church music, show tunes, and even a few arias, though I don't really have the range for many of them."

She caught Primordial's gaze as he looked over the stalls. "Why don't we walk down the street to the inn, looking at the shops as we go? Then we can get something for breakfast, and try to talk to people at the inn."

The Building

"Not sure about all this," she admitted to Sandy, looking around. "Must be very recent, probably the extra room for all the refugees."

Sandy glanced over at the crude room divider, then back to Giovenith. "Oh, almost certainly. This is our main hospital. Triage was downstairs, then on the roof after all the spellcasting outside. Gretta Von Eldritch took over Ogoti's surgery downstairs as well. She seems to have a deft touch with a knife, but the Grim Reaper's bedside manner. We'll have to do something about that; we need all the hands we can get, but we can't have her frightening the people we're trying to save."

[Highfort]

Septimus grunted as his stomach growled - even without a generator mounted on his shoulder, the cyborg still had to eat. While not as much protein nor calories were necessary, he still favored a full breakfast over frozen morsels reheated in the microwave or, worse, cereal. The representative's disdain for the sugary concoction was deep-seated, a result of a lifetime spent carefully maintaining protein levels to be sufficiently balanced with carbohydrates. Crunchy, sugary cereal - and sugar bombs, of all things - annoyed him.

The fridge was sought out and two eggs procured, both gently set on the counter top as a skillet was warmed on the range. The occasional groan of a patient pierced the crunch of cereal and the hum of the toaster.

"We'll need to expand the clinic in the days to come, if the Building's agreeable to it," Septimus cracked the eggs onto the skillet and hummed tunelessly as he watched them sizzle and begin to solidify, "Can't have people being treated in the dining room - it's not sanitary enough and the supplies have to be moved around."

Flipping the eggs with a spatula, he pulled open the fridge to procure a few slices of sausage and threw those to the side of the pan, away from the glistening tops of the whites and the yolk, "Sandy, who's in charge of the healers? I saw you, Gretta - I assume that's the raptor I saw - Prim, and a few of his kind running around while I was in the lobby. I heard them as well - you're right, our healers do need proper bedside manner. We don't want to get off on the wrong foot with these villagers."

As the eggs and sausage continued to sizzle, toast was set in one of the toasters next to Gio's waffles and Septimus turned to face the two defacto leaders of the Building, "I think we should address the medical staff especially in the meeting. I know that you don't want public condemnation but they need to understand that we won't tolerate certain behaviors. It makes the Building and ourselves look bad and we need all the friends we can get right now."

[Fvaarniimar]

<Fingers?> Paw above hoof, Nick assumed a contemplative expression. <I think they're somewhat like paws with the soft, moving parts at the end. They're much better at picking things up than my paws... > He watched as Willow pulled out the fruit. <Actually they seem to work like your hooves.>

His eyes widened and his ears flattened somewhat as one of said appendages split the apple. His nose wrinkled involuntarily, he pushed his tongue out to pick up a tiny sliver -

He gagged. Yuck!

Use the collar... "Um... Thanks. That was...nice...but...you can have the apples. I'll munch mice." Um. "It's okay whenever we need to leave..."
--

"Thank you!" Partway through the explanation, Rmwtyliin had adopted an incredulous smile. "That...that is confusing...but maybe it is starting to make sense." It was also reassuring that the woman had needed to learn English, because she clearly had succeeded and now understood the language. "So - if you were speaking of...uh... me, you would not say, 'The Rmwtyliin...'

"Is that correct? Would you say, "the her?' 'The girl?' You...we... would not say 'The Venmii...' ...I thank you also for your sympathy. It is difficult being separated from them, and harder knowing that I...have very little chance...of getting home... I expect they would want me to move forward and comport myself in a manner which would reflect well on them and on Fvaarniimar." Almost reflexively, she traced the black tattoo on her forehead - up, down like a mountain, repeat. Jump up, down, up like a valley. Repeat. "Hence I am trying to do so."

[Northwest Slobovia]

"I think we should address the medical staff especially in the meeting. I know that you don't want public condemnation but they need to understand that we won't tolerate certain behaviors. It makes the Building and ourselves look bad and we need all the friends we can get right now."

Sandy ate his horrid cereal as he listened to Septimus, occassionally looking up at him and nodding to let him know he was listening. The sugary mess in the bowl was sort of food, but he'd need to find something better after choking down as much as he could.

Sandy spoke quietly, cocking his head at the partition and the make-shift hospital ward beyond. "We should get a new hospital room, ideally off the lobby. Bringing the injured upstairs is a bad idea. We should talk to Demens about that."

Sandy glanced down at the table in front of him, shaking his head unhappily, before looking back up at the others and continuing. "I'm in charge of the healers as much as anybody is. We didn't seem to have much of a plan, so I improvised one. I'll meet with all the healers after the main meeting. We need to go into too much detail to try to do it with everybody else there. Not only is there bedside manner to discuss, but there's also mundane supplies we need to try to restock, and we need to discuss how we're going to divide up duties."

Sandy dropped his voice to barely above a whisper, and his face clouded with unease. "I'm concerned about our ability to take another wave like this one if we don't get some time off. Ogoti's been propping us up with his divine magic, and even then, Anais looked as worn out as I feel. Her ritual magic is very powerful in the long run, but it takes a lot out of her to cast. I need some time in my workroom to restock. I'm not sure about the others; even the mundane doctors may be getting tired. I'd like to check on how prepared we are before we make further plans."

He spent a few seconds stirring the soggy cereal in his bowl, before continuing with weary determination. "We'll do what we need to do if there's another attack tonight, but I don't think it would be such a good idea if this was mentioned at the general meeting."

[Torsiedelle]

"No problem. And yes, I wouldn't say "The Rmwtyliin", just your name. It's simple, really."

Katya felt sorry for the girl. She shifted in her seat and nodded again. "I guess it's important to be strong, but there's nothing wrong with feeling sad about it. Family is important. I'm lucky to have my little sister."

To lighten the mood, she noted somethig that she had just thought of. "Are you learning how to read?"

[Primordial Luxa]

Amanda gave Primordial a funny look, then glanced down, trying to make make sure she caught his meaning. "So... you're a gastronome and an artist?" She spoke with decided hesitation, uncertain of what to make of Primordial's description even after thinking about it. She was tempted to write him off as a hopelessly eccentric spellcaster, but it was hard for her to do so when the god from downstairs had just mentioned that his SO died twice a day, and he felt he should be with her when she did.

"I mostly sing popular songs. But also some church music, show tunes, and even a few arias, though I don't really have the range for many of them."

She caught Primordial's gaze as he looked over the stalls. "Why don't we walk down the street to the inn, looking at the shops as we go? Then we can get something for breakfast, and try to talk to people at the inn."

"More of a pharmaceutical connoisseur, an emotional sybarite and a spiritual voluptuary. I have a blend of methods to instant change my mood to whatever I like so in my free time I try to achieve feelings and mood i've never felt before. But I do enjoy some very exotic food which my physiology allows me to survive ingesting and I would be lying if I said that I pass up staring a surrealist painting." He said in a cheery little tone. He was growing to like this Amanda person mainly because she was refreshing normal compared to most of the things which he normally dealt with. Although one might think that Primordial would enjoy strangeness in all things he actually preferred that it remain isolated to a manageable degree that didn't pollute his ascetic tastes. So people like Amanda who were the perfect mixture of normal and abnormal were quite enjoy company for him.

"Oh how lovely I simply can't resist a good hymn or carol. They have this dreamlike texture to them that just tinkles me to no end, you simply must show some time." He said smiling and following her towards the Inn. He lagged a bit as he investigated the various stalls and ogling interesting looking people as well with a his typically sly expression.

[Cerillium]

THE FIELD

The Wilhelm Imperium? Is that what this place was? Thaddeus grunted in acknowledgment.

He was more machine than man, a massive figure ensconced in a black leather duster whose ends billowed in the prop wash. The preponderance of his visible augmentations were gun metal grey - he was never a fan of chrome - most most of these were covered in thick black fabric and heavy tanker boots. He stood at nearly seven and a half feet, this failed space marine turned tech priest, and bore a gruff expression that furrowed the hairless brows of his pallid face. Silver-grey orbs tucked behind scarred eyelids regarded the new arrival. Or perhaps they regarded the sky behind him? It was difficult to tell without pupils for a reference point.

"I am Thaddeus Usseio," he growled beneath his respirator. He might have doubted the other man's purposes had he not arrived in Bran's helicopter. "Only one biomachine needs extraction. The other is Drone and is fully functional."

A heavy hand gestured to the twin monstrosities, each the opposite of the other in composition. "We'll lift the exo and set her down behind the Building. Priests there have received instruction."

There wasn't more time for chatter. Thaddeus tucked Nila into the helicopter and then the crew went to work rigging the exo. A half hour's effort soon had Bran flying back towards the Building, Buttons swaying gently beneath the bird. A half hour more, and she rested upon tarps the priests had laid out for her. They would eventually move her to the parking garage, once she was strong enough to ambulate some.

Thaddeus returned to the clinic with Nila, and found Neste right where he'd left her. Good. No sense in her roaming. He thanked the villager guards and sent them to find Septimus, and he hung a "do not disturb" sing on the clinic's doorknob (which Ocho promptly ignored after arriving back at the Building).

The truck, driven by Marcus and with Romulus as a front seat passenger, was soon parked once again inside the garage. The boy, lost in thought, wasn't very communicative, although he did invite Romulus up to the dining room for breakfast.


And so it was that the helicopter crew, Marcus, the minotaurs, Romulus and whoever else was caught up in this whirlwind adventure arrived in the kitchen in hopes of something good to eat.


THE BUILDING

Myra watched the static on the television set. It occasionally supplied a fleeting image of a face. The image flickered across the screen with the speed of a highway lane divider slipping under a car as it raced along the road. It was just as scrambled as the background, and it reminded her of a newscaster speaking into a camera. Fascinated, she let her eyes relax as the TV's speakers hissed and shooshed at her.

"I don't think he got eaten," Myra rolled the top of the chips bag and set it beside her chair. "He has wings, so he would have flown away. You should give him a chance, Torii. You've known each other a while now, right?"

The warm sunlight, coupled with the TV's neutral noise, left her feeling heavy and content. A yawn formed her mouth into an O. "Y-Yuna's missing. Which one is your sister? Has she hung out with us before?"



Adrastus needed more information, and information was best gained through cultists. Alas, there wasn't a single one in sight as he strode through the lobby and to the lifts. There weren't any upstairs, either, and Ogoti seemed too preoccupied with his craft to spare the old abbot a moment of his time. Defeated, the cyborg followed his nose towards the kitchen. Perhaps someone there could tell him what the fuck was going on.



THE BURROWS

Normally the village would have bustled with early morning activity. The Fiend raid had disrupted most of it. The grocer's shop remained shuttered tight, although voices drifted from behind the front door. The blacksmith's forge sent smoke from its chimneys but the man himself chose to keep the fires low; he had gone to the inn's pub for a bite and a pint. The Market square had picked up in pace, with nearly eighty villagers choosing to gather near the old well to trade gossip. The village's diversity became readily apparent there.

Most of the inhabitants were human and lived within the village proper. The larger creatures, such as the minotaurs and cyclops, preferred to remain on the fringes but conducted their business at the market square. Nobody seemed willing to do any sales today, however, and so Amanda and Primordial's quest for goods went unfulfilled.

"Did you see it up close, Margaret?"

"Aye," Margaret's eyes widened. "I'm telling you, the ruins were solid again. There's a whole building there filled with people. Most human. Some weird."

"What kinds of people? Ascalons? Freywolders?" another voice asked.

"Or were they from Alessio, or one of the xeno groups come up from the south?" chimed in another.

"Oh no, these were totally foreign. Gatejumpers."

Several loud gasps and a cough followed this dreadful pronouncement.

"Margaret, are you sure, now? Gatejumpers come in ones and twos. And they don't bring entire buildings with them. By Demens, that's just not natural!"

Margaret huffed in indignation. "I know what I saw, Parnesius Frimm! Go back to your Greek market and be done with it! Don't you tell me I saw other than I didn't! I was standing right there, in a lobby. It had lights on. Lights, in the ruins! But they weren't ruins! And there were a host of people there. A girl with glittery hair. A dinosaur or two. Some cyborgs. Most were human. There was a dark haired bloke, with an optical like Ignatius Jones'."

"Does the blacksmith have a brother?" someone ventured.

"Oh, that's not the point!" Margaret countered. "The point is, the dark haired bloke issued orders. They had a full-spectrum healer corps, too. Magic and Science and Common. They all went to work, quick as a wink! Some died, but many were saved. And the others manned the doors and went out into the Fiends to pull us in. They made a gigantic ice wall to stop them, and sent monsters wading out into them! The Mayor hopped about us all, keeping us all moving and occupied."

"Margaret's been at the bottle."

"Oh, I have not! Look! See for yourself! There's two of them Gatejumpers right there!"

The crowd around the old well parted like curtains to reveal the woman in their midst. She held her arm out, finger sharply pointing directly at Amanda and Primordial. "Look, damn it, Gatejumpers, plain as day! You ask them! You ask them about the building and dinosaurs and other people!"

Spent, Margaret lowered her arm and perched her rump against the well's lip. Fresh murmurs rose from the assembled villagers as the curious people drew nearer to the pair. Was it true? Was there more of them? What were they? Where did they come from? The villagers' eyes weren't accusatory, but their faces betrayed their nervousness.

[Highfort]

Plating the eggs and the sausages after the sizzling died-down, Septimus placed the breakfast at the table alongside the toast and a glass of orange juice he'd procured from the fridge. As he drained the oil from the pan and began washing the utensils he'd used, the cyborg mulled over Sandy's suggestion for expanding the building. A hospital wing would go nicely with the clinic, considering that the latter was far too small to accommodate all the injured villagers and bringing them upstairs for treatment was a serious logistical mistake. Simply expanding the clinic would clog foot traffic - two doors was always better than one, and those who were not as significantly injured could clog the clinic rather than taking up critical space in the hospital wing. Taking his own place at the table, the cyborg began to eat.

"Mr. Demens is not an easy man to find," Septimus replied as he mopped at the broken yolk with his toast, "The Building is a strange entity, always seeming to expand based on the Resident's whims and desires. If we could somehow communicate that we required a hospital wing expansion, perhaps it could oblige. After all, some of the Apartment doors open to entirely different dimensions and worlds. Summoning the interior of a hospital should be elementary compared to those feats."

Shoveling the toast into his mouth alongside bits of egg white, the Representative chewed for some time before adding, "Of course I know nothing about magic, so for all I know it could be impossible. But there's no harm in trying; at the very least, we'll learn our boundaries."

Nodding as Sandy summed up the healer's grim prospects, Septimus said, "We'll focus the meeting on prevention if there are attacks tonight. Fewer injured means you and your fellows will have time to restock, recharge, and what have you. But I agree, we shouldn't bring up any weaknesses of the healers. We don't want to sow any doubt among our warriors - they might have to fight if it comes to it tonight; we'll deal with casualties as they come in."

Before Septimus could add anything more to the conversation, the trio in the kitchen were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of several Residents, villagers, and - most notably - the guards Septimus had posted in front of the clinic when Neste had been brought in.

Gulping down his orange juice in anticipation of not having a chance to finish his breakfast, Septimus stood to address the cyclops and the minotaur, "Didn't I tell you to stay in front of the clinic until-"

"The other metal one sent us," the minotaur grunted, glancing at the cyclops as if insisting that the one-eyed, muscular herder should explain.

"Thaddeus, the one inside, he sent us," the cyclops explained, "He sent for you. Back to the clinic."

A rush of adrenaline filled his veins - Thaddeus would not send him for anything trivial. Something must have been going wrong. Turning back to Sandy and Giovenith, he offered a slight bow, "My apologies, I have some things to tend to. Sandy, Giovenith, send a runner for me if you need to discuss anything else before the meeting. Good luck."

And with that he was out in a rush, brushing and shoving past the teens and the other villagers as he strode down the hallway and his boots slammed on the steps. He was on the first floor again, sweat beading on his forehead, a million different scenarios worming their way into his brain. Without a processor to diffuse them and keep them in the background as a nervous hum, he went through each in turn and his mind was cleared of anything else but confirming that Neste was alright.

[Fvaarniimar]

So I am doing that much correctly. I can read this alright if I remember the pronunciation of t-h-e...

"You are fortunate, yes. Learning how to read? No. Actually, I have had lessons on the script in use here for some time, but I do not speak Inn-glish well. There are some words similar to the languages I was tut - uh, which...my mother insisted that I learn - but it does not exist in my time. I am learning - I think - but the process is slow. I feel fortunate to - oh, I have not fed him!" Digging a sunflower seed out of her pouch, the girl offered it to the naked-mole-rat daemon. Turning back to Katya - perhaps to elaborate - she saw Adrastus advancing through the lobby.

Eyes wide, she asked, "Was that a knight? The men in metal seem like knights, and they wear armor, but they are not wearing chains and one of them once said that he was not a knight." Or someone else did... It had been some while ago, during a crazy time. A boy, who was nice. Chivalrous.

[Torsiedelle]

"Yeahx we have. About two years now.", Torii nodded.

Was it really two years? They'd done a lot together. "Drova was my date for that ball on Gliese, and my Valentine this year. We kind of just went with it, since we both needed someone or else we'd feel like losers. He's a nice guy, too. I wouldn't mind trying. He's a good kisser, too.", She blushed.

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

"I guess I am fortunate. Although, if you want to learn some more, I have plenty of book in English."

Katya glanced at the man. "They're cyborgs. They're humans who augment themselves with machinery, but I think those guys are priests."