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

by **Giovenith** » Fri Nov 06, 2015 4:47 pm

On account of them all already being well on their way out the door before he'd even approached it himself, Giovenith didn't respond to Drova's demanding questions. Even if she had heard them she had no had intention to answer to them, because she had no intention to referee whatever those two said to each other--she wasn't in the mood for theatrics. Like she'd told them both, the hour was theirs', they could talk to the rest of them when it was up. Her focus was on shepherding the rest of her friends, being strong enough for them to latch onto in this wild storm.

"Ohhh, this isn't your fault," she finally switched to a comforting tone as she reassured the mewing cat. "Or your's, Myra. Nick, you were just asking an innocent question, you couldn't have known, and Myra, I don't think you even lived in the Building when that happened, there's nothing you could have done about it. Torii didn't like talking about it because she was a tough girl, she didn't want to be defined by her moments of peril."

Though she didn't have anymore arms to hand out, Giovenith also tried to gesture towards Yuna. "You also shouldn't worry about anything, Yuna. He's your brother and you can approach this however you want, the rest of us won't be mad at all. Siblings have special ties, but the rest of us must judge them as individuals. You are just as special a friend. Come everyone..."

She lead the rest of the club only a few doors over to the Building's gym. It was empty as usual, and she summoned her strength to move a few exercise machines out of the way so that she could lay down a blanket for the rest of them to sit on. She pulled out various snacks and utensils from her pockets, doughnut holes, brownies, cookies, even some milk and a saucer to offer to Nick, setting up a little private picnic for the rest of them to calm down around and get whatever they had off their chests. It was a safe place.

--

Willow pushed raven bangs from his eyes and offered a deep sigh. It wasn't a gesture of meekness, but rather one of buttressing, as he found himself having to muster up to carry the heavy concepts Klaus' words conveyed.

The situation with these cosmic beings was a confusing stew of hypocrisy, irony, and a lot of ivory tower syndrome. In some ways, he saw what the Greater Beings were complaining about as good things. If the gods of the humans were choosing to either actually take input from the mortals they ruled or stay out of their business, that was great, better than showing up whenever they felt like it, looking at the mess they made, and screaming, 'You guys are a bunch of fuck-ups! CLEAN THIS SHIT THE FUCK UP, I'M GOD!!!' then killing a few guys just to drive the point home as the policy seemed to have been so far. Giovenith wasn't "controlled" by Willow or any of her friends (if anything, she was more adept at benevolently controlling the rest of them), but if she chose to take their word on certain subjects and incorporate that into her worldview, then so the fuck what? What, only they were allowed to tell her what to do? She was still an individual.

But then it was as Klaus had said--there were darker things out there that had malevolent intentions for this universe, things the mortals couldn't fight away themselves. Humanity, and probably all other life, had been saddled in a bad situation of choosing either apathy and total annihilation, or attention and oppression.

"Don't you think," he dared to offer his opinion. "That the relationship between gods and their mortals is in dire need of a reformation? Just not in the way they want. I'm not from here, but if I had to muster a guess, then I say the gods turn away because the mortals turn away, and the mortals turn away because they live in a harsh and ever-changing world. I think, Mister Klaus, that mortals aren't inclined to give power to those they feel aren't giving them good enough in return..."

The pony held out a foreleg to point into the distance, letting it wave over the skyline, grass, and structures.

"We, or rather the humans, do not live in a world where they need to pray during a drought or a famine, but only need rely on one another. We live in a time where people are more protective of themselves and their own dignity, and more likely to demand justification for actions. We live in a time where people can see that very little is impossible if you only have enough time and dedication. If I may be blasphemous, we live in a time that is outgrowing the old need for magic and gods."

Willow didn't blame Klaus if he wanted to nick him on the head for that, but the pony wasn't necessarily excluding himself from that statement. If there was anything he learned at all in his time on Earth, it was that his own imagination wasn't quite as vast as he had originally assumed--there were thousands, upon thousands of ways a world could work, thousands of ways that his own natural role as a magical steward of the weather could displaced. The difference was pegasi weren't as important on the scale of things they were concerned about.

"I'll admit it: I am no traditionalist," he said, pulling back his foreleg and turning to the avatar. "I believe that the ways of old need to prove themselves to be of continuing use to the new age, not the other way around. Adaption. If this is the state we are in, then perhaps it is because all of us, Greater Beings and lesser beings, are trying to measure this universe by outdated standards. If it is truly a matter of cosmic survival that humanity keeps it's belief in magic and the divine, as Demens apparently believes, then maybe the answer is to stop bitching about one another, and give them a reason to believe before the end is upon us."

by **Primordial Luxa** » Fri Nov 06, 2015 4:56 pm

Woods
Aegis nodded at the man’s introduction and gave slight smile mixed with a looked of pleasant surprise at his description of Old Sam’s clever yet insidious entrapment curse based on footware. As he untied his thick military styled left boot he thought about other similar effects in the magical realms such as fairies and vampires which could be weakened permanently unless they acquired permission to enter a dwelling he wondered if Sam’s spell relied on a similar principle or if he had a different style.

Aegis calmly soaked in the surroundings of his patronages folkish home which was brimming with the wizardry and witchcraft of a semi-druidic, partial-wiccan combination with the sprinkling of a arthurian legend. He was almost paralysed as he records and memorized as many sights and sounds as he could in the place knowing that later on such details might be important. He found the Imp to be indeed very curious mostly from its fearful expression since his own experience showed them to be creatures more given to acts of rage rather than fear when uncomfortable. But perhaps this Sam fellow wasn't as immediately nice as he seemed at first and Aegis thought how clumsily he would move with his one shoe and how hard it might be to flee from danger. But he didn’t let his concern show.

Hall
“I heard things got pretty hairy out that from Aegis.” Insidious said when the elevator chimed and the doors slide open “I was inside actually tending to the wounded, i’m more of a surgeon than a butcher but i’ve been known to dabble in it when forced to. Any way I was spending most of the time stitching prepared artificial limbs and flesh onto the most damaged people. That actually reminds me that I should probably make some more artificial meat.”

Burrows
“Amanda what do you make of all this sheep business. I suppose we could talk with these hunters when they return and see what kind of help we could offer these poor folks in exchange for some food and supplies?” Primordial said while reaching into one of his vest pockets with the Fist of the Beyond One and grabbing one of the grape sized rubies he stored there. He caused it to slink out and float around his arm in a slinking manner out of both boredom and to emphasize his next point. “Or we could try and buy things the old fashion way.”

by **Highfort** » Sat Nov 07, 2015 2:12 am

Well, that had come out way better than he'd expected.

Not that Septimus had ever doubted Neste, but hearing her slip back into the professional cadence that he'd heard on Dyste was jarring. Why was it jarring, though? Hadn't she been a diplomatic envoy? That was her job under Ambassador Sage, wasn't it? Perhaps, then, it was that her professionalism seemed to bounce back in spite of Scel's absence. Her logical side was missing, yet Neste seemed to somehow get along just fine.

The key word being seemed, of course.

Though he didn't want to broach the topic of the fallen exo, the cyborg knew that losing part of herself would no-doubt have serious repercussions on Neste and her ability to function. At the back of his mind, the paranoia that had been beaten into him through decades of conditioning under Ophelia warned him that losing such a significant part of herself might mean death. Though she seemed fine now, everyone was fine for a moment when the severance happened. It took time for the crimson to flow, for the wound to bleed and choke the life out of the victim. He wondered if that was the case with her.

The smile Neste offered to him when she was finished speaking didn't encourage him any. She looked tired - frail, and worst of all she didn't look like herself. At least, she didn't look as radiant as she'd been over the past few days. Of course, that could be attributed to battle fatigue and nearly-dying, but Septimus' gut was gnawing at him. Something must be wrong with Neste. But what?

If only his damn processor was online. But could he trust it to provide a valid prognosis? It had ulterior motives - and they were obviously not friendly toward the lovely lizard, if the trip to the Klingon homeworld had been any indication. At the very least, having it there, nagging at him near the base of his neck, would distract him long enough to forget his paranoia and focus on the job at hand. There was time for worrying, but later.

A sip of tea to calm the nerves, and then he met Neste's golden eyes with a glance before turning back toward the manager. Septimus cleared his throat.

"It seems to me, sir, that the best I can offer is a basic request," the Representative set his china down on the rather-crowded desk of the Manager, "Neste's explained why we need these things and some of what we need, but neither of us are on the Healers' staff and we need their opinions before we can give you a comprehensive recommendation of what would benefit us the most. Suffice to say, the Building and her Residents will be seeing combat in the coming days. It may even become a permanent facet of life here, and if it does then we should be ready to accommodate casualties and treat them as best we can. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, as the old Terran saying goes, and I think it would be worthwhile to prevent any complications rising from - as Neste mentioned - unsanitary conditions and lack of treatment space and supplies."

Leaning back in the cozy chair, he raked his fingers through his greying hair nervously and added, "Those can be very expensive, I assure you, and that goes double if we take in any injured locals and they only get worse under our care. We have a blank slate to work with on this new world, let's try to put our best foot forward and show these people we mean well."

As he awaited the suited man's response, Septimus focused once more on the tether.

"Neste... after we're done here... would you mind if I got one of the healers to look you over comprehensively? I just want to make sure you're alright, that's all."

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Sat Nov 07, 2015 2:08 pm

The Building

Monfrox wrote:"What is there to talk about? What happened happened. I can't go back in time and change it, I can only change how I act from now on. You've got something for me? Let's hear it. There isn't any real reason to dwell on past mistakes except to learn from them. I've learned, though that has yet to be proven to you and the others."

Sandy's expression brightened, his lips curving up into the beginnings of a smile. "Well, precisely! The reason we study the past -- not only mistakes but also triumphs -- is to learn from it! That's why I'm trying to understand your motivations and your perceptions of what happened. I have only a partial picture of the situation, and while I don't like what I saw, I recognize that that's not the whole of it. You can give me a better perspective, so we can work this out."

Sandy paused to study the girl's rigid expression. "But you don't seem to want to talk about it. Perhaps you're embarrassed by what you did, or maybe you're just as worn out as I am. Maybe you're the sort of person always eager for the next thing. Whichever is the case, so be it. I'll give you a choice of what to do next."

"One, we talk about what happened now, and I'll try to give you the best advice I can to ensure you'll succeed with your next assignment. I'll take most of the responsibility for its outcome. This is what I'd like to do, but you seem absolutely against it."

"Two, I'll tell you what I want you to do, and it's up to you to get it done. You get all the credit or blame. We'll talk about what happened another time. This seems to be what you want."

"Three, I'll get somebody else to do the job. I don't think either one of us wants this, but if you don't like your other choices, this is what I'm going to have to do. There's work that needs to be done now."

"Which do you want? It's your decision."

The Burrows

Cerillium wrote:A young lad, perhaps no older than twelve, separated himself from his peers and edged forward until he was close to the Gatejumpers' table. "We lost nearly all," he replied. "My family lost all of ours. We've raised them for generations. I- I could take you to where they run wild. My father showed me once. He'd show you now, but--"

"There's a good lad," Margaret swept from her chair to gather the boys shoulders under her arm. "You need to stay here with your mother. You leave that quest to somebody else, and when it's over, you can be the first to pick your lamb."

Amanda watched the boy's timid approach; she wasn't used to children addressing adults in conversation without being invited. But she listened to him as he spoke: these people apparently raised their kids differently, and he seemed to have something useful to add. Amanda was just about to thank him when Margaret intervened.

Primordial Luxa wrote:Burrows
“Amanda what do you make of all this sheep business. I suppose we could talk with these hunters when they return and see what kind of help we could offer these poor folks in exchange for some food and supplies?” Primordial said while reaching into one of his vest pockets with the Fist of the Beyond One and grabbing one of the grape sized rubies he stored there. He caused it to slink out and float around his arm in a slinking manner out of both boredom and to emphasize his next point. “Or we could try and buy things the old fashion way.”

Amanda watched the ruby rise from Primordial's pocket, and her eyes immediately widened. That must be worth a fortune! But as the stone drifted where others might see it, her eyes narrowed, and her expression hardened. She hissed at him, hoping to keep her voice low enough that Margaret wouldn't hear while she led the boy away. "Don't flaunt your wealth like that! It's tacky! These people have just lost everything, they don't need to see you showing off."

She relaxed, continuing in a whisper, "They've offered to help us out of the goodness of their hearts. We should accept that with good grace, in the spirit it was offered. We should help them catch more sheep with the same generosity. I agree it would be better to pay our own way, but if we're going to sell valuables to do so, we should do it discreetly. One of the shopkeepers should be able to tell us who deals in precious stones, and you can sell to them out of the public eye. Sandy and I have a little silver we could sell; we'll take care of that in the same way."

Cerillium wrote:She shooed him towards his friends, watching the sorrow press his posture down, then softly explained to Amanda and Primordial, "Pierce's father was one of our chief shepherds, and was one of the first to fall when the Fiends first came. He's the man of his house now. The hunters usually return by nightfall, and they gather here at the pub. I'm sure they'll speak with you."

Now the reason for the child's approach became clear: he was an adult of a sort. Amanda shook her head, trying to imagine would it must be like for a twelve-year-old to run a household. She couldn't; that was a task for adults, the more mature the better. Maybe Sandy could help the poor kid, she'd ask him at home.

Amanda turned to Margaret, and nodded crisply at her. "At nightfall, then. We'll return, and we'll bring others with us. We'll do our best for you."

"One last question, if I may. You called us 'gatejumpers' before. There are, then, 'gates'? What are they? What do they do?"

by **The BranRiech** » Sat Nov 07, 2015 3:23 pm

Yuna nodded, sniffling a little. Seeing her brother, and one of her best friends fighting over her other best friend was heartbreaking to say the least. They left them in the teen-club to continue the little tirade in peace, but Yuna didn't really like the thought of simply pushing the problem somewhere else. She didn't know much of what to think of the matter. She loved her friends, and her brother about the same amount, and couldn't find it within herself to take sides.

"I just don't know why Marcus got so angry . . ." She sighed, clutching the camera's film-roll she had been holding since Torii's departure. The camera was safely back at their apartment, but the photos still needed to develop.

The Priestess sat down, crossing her legs on the blanket as her friend pulled a variety of snacks from her bag. "But thanks for understanding. I-I'm not going to choose a side to take though, not because of you guys, but I just . . . I just can't."

by **Swith Witherward** » Sat Nov 07, 2015 11:20 pm

GYM
Myra folded her legs under her as she claimed a spot on the blanket. Torii and Marcus were the only ones she knew well. She felt awkward, an outsider on a field trip with classmates who had the good fortune to sit with the popular kids only because everyone was forced to share a table. It was a childish notion, of course, but old habits died hard. Her fingers wandered towards her ear to draw down a curtain of hair, but she stopped short of hitching it from behind her ear. What had Marcus told her not too long ago? You can't win if you don't try.

"It's not my fault, but I feel badly," she selected a cookie, then sighed. "And I don't understand what's going on. When we were walking to the village earlier, I thought Torii wanted to figure herself out instead of being in a relationship with anyone. I mean, it sounded as though she had a few prospects but hadn't settled on any of them. So then, like within an hour, she's suddenly in a relationship. I... just don't understand."

She nibbled at the cookie in halfhearted fashion, not really tasting the sweet crumbs between her teeth. The sting of the earlier mental pictures was still very real. "I- I guess I'm just shocked because I was bullied all through school, and I just - I suppose I couldn't be with anyone that let that happen to me. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be such a downer."

TEENCLUB
"I didn't try to kill you. Why are you such a fucking drama queen?" the words were dark clouds hovering over Marcus' mind. They blocked the sunshine filtering through the windows, suppressing any cheer the warmth could have brought him. Shit, if he wanted to kill Drova, he would have shot him. Or shot him in the knee and torn his wings off. Fuck, for all he knew, Torii hasn't realized the prince witnessed her ass-beating. The storm began to build again, its thunder manifesting in the teen's broody expression.

"You know what?" his gaze slipped from the window to settle on Drova's face. "We all jumped into fights we couldn't win. Today. Giovenith couldn't save all those people. I probably would have died trying to reach the villagers and exos. And then there's you."

Marcus tongue drew back in preparation for some arrows. "Where were you, Drova, while the rest of us put our reputations and lives on the line? You never engage in anything you can't win. And there you stand, claiming to be her best friend."

He pushed himself from the chair's back to settle his elbows on his knees. His hands folded together - a fist was out of the question, unless the nance decided to attack him. He tucked his rage to the side, speaking levelly to the other boy.

"Friends. A friend watches you take a hit, and then tells you to get up and run because the big guy's coming back for more. And when that guy arrives, a friend bolts. A best friend takes offense at the sucker punch, and says "Stay down, man. I got this", and then he squares off against the big guy. Best friends are there when shit gets real. And if you were any kind of friend at all, you'd know how hung up Torii is on her friends. You would have raced down the stairs because you knew she'd do something stupid, like going out against the Fiends with only a gun and her determination. You would have squared off against the bad guys because you care more about her than you do yourself, and you would have fought beside her. And that's my issue with you. You only think of yourself. You want me to respect you? Fine. Do something besides holding your limp cock in your hand and whimpering whenever shit gets too real for you to handle. Because as it stands, all I ever see you you do is sit around the Building and pull selfish stuff, then run away and cry when it reflects badly on you."

ROOF
Klaus steepled his fingers and pondered each of Willow's astute observations, nodding in agreement at times as the Pony expressed what was undoubtedly good, old fashioned common sense. He pressed his index fingers to pursed lips, only removing them once he'd finished his own thoughts on the matter.

"You're absolutely right, Willow," he said at last, "Although each pantheon is different and not all of them engage in a god-follower relationship. My own, for example, is fed by the emotions of all beings. It doesn't matter if they believe in us - or even if they don't know we exist. But yes, the standards are extremely outdated. The whole program needs an overhaul. Perhaps it is time to prune away the gods that do nothing."

Realizing how cold that statement was, he quickly added, "No, not kill them. Simply let them fall away into obscurity if they can't be arsed to do their job. As for the rest? You hit the nail on the head, Master Pony. We need to give them a reason to believe before the end is upon us. The question is, How? Gods are vain beings, mostly. Do as I command, and worship me alone! How do you give a moral freedom to believe or disbelieve without compromising his free will?"

It was a philosophical angle that plagued most pantheons. "John is an atheist, meaning he does not believe in God or gods, although you'll find his disbelief mainly focused on Elohim. I manifest. Does he then believe in me, and will he follow me yet still cling to his disbelief in Elohim? Or will a Christian give up on Elohim completely and follow me simply because Elohim can't be arsed to put in a public appearance? Trust me, nothing chaps an angel's ass more than when one of Elohim's believers strays into the arms of another pantheon. Power stealing. That's how some gods see it. It's a malicious slant drilling game that, thankfully, hasn't been played in full force for a good two thousand years. Even within pantheons, you'll find competition. Rache here - you're not fooling me with the Hans puppet disguise, Rache - would tell me if one of my followers darted off to worship one of my brothers after I'd bestowed so many gifts upon him."

The lips pursed again. "'Me', meaning the being I stem from. I'm only an avatar of that. Anyway, how would you go about doing it? We need to give them a reason without taking away their free will. But how?"

The fingers intertwined to serve as a platform for his chin. His question was sincere. When all else failed, turn to the mortals and ask them what would work best.

MANAGERQUEST
A silent, relieved sigh escaped the lizard's nostrils as Septimus picked up where she had left off. They made a good team, not that she'd ever consider herself on his level regarding the diplomacy game. She had just about decided that this might be an interesting career, and was considering ways of asking him how to improve her game, when he posed his question through their tether. An ear quivered. Was her outward appearance so revealing?

Neste dearly wished they were far away from the damn manager and the business at hand. She needed her moment of weakness, to perhaps rail at the world and shed her tears, and to seek comfort in the cyborg's embrace. Some things were inevitable, and it was better to explain them all before they occurred, but now simply wasn't the time. She wasn't more important than the whole.

"That would be good," she struggled to hold back her sorrow, "Although the magic users won't be of any help. Perhaps Thaddeus? He's familiar with my kind."

The manager was still considering their proposition by time Neste's eyes return to him. Even the birds flopping around his desk had grown still. He hummed through closed lips, his mind weighing the good and the bad, and factoring in all the little things that most people overlooked, and then he snatched a vibrant purple bird from its companions.

"So, you need a space for this hospital," he restated as thumb and forefinger latched onto the squawking bird's head. "And a space, I can give."

Fingers compressed and then twisted, snapping the neck with a muffled pop! in order to pull off the creature's head. He tossed the noggin over his shoulder and offered the body - now a large, iron key - to Septimus. "Take this, and then take the elevator to the fifth floor. The doors won't open there. Not without this key. It is like any apartment. You must focus on your needs, and they will be there. I suggest you make a list before you go."

He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet upon the desk, scattering the remaining birds. "Believe, Mr. Itum, and the Building believes with you. I believe we're done here today."

BURROWS
Margaret accepted the payment. She wasn't a greedy woman, though. "This is more than enough, and I'll add the remaining value to a tab for you."

She also didn't doubt Amanda's sincerity regarding the offer to help. So far, the Gatejumpers had proven their willingness to assist. Their offer of sanctuary earlier, coupled with their unselfish healing acts, had convinced nearly everyone that these newcomers wouldn't take advantage of the situation, nor would they attempt to dominate the village itself.

"Aye, there's gates," she smiled. "It's how all things get in and get out of this dimension. They're located in Gatehouses scattered here and then, and those are kept secured by the Gardians. But I should warn you - They can not be bribed. They can not be enchanted. They can not be pleaded with. They can not be slain. The holy books say they're an extension of Lord Demens himself. It isn't too doubted by us; we've heard stories of them slapping down gods that come here to meddle. Demens, he don't take kindly to external forces messing with his realm. But he's kindly, or so the holy books say, because those that worship other pantheons, well, their souls are lifted up through the Gates in order for them to find their right heavens."

AAAND LOBBY
"The lease!" the front desk cultist slid a clipboard towards Cat. The paperwork was standard, and written in whatever language his people embraced. "You'll be in 7A."

As for those other questions? Volker knew nothing about Cat's home, thus he wasn't sure he could explain anything properly. He watched the man as he read the papers, and then chanced some answers. "You're not dead because you're not dead. You're here because you're here. And you got here because it was better that you were here than where you were when you left. And the stylus? Is that it, over there by the desk's corner? Everything else you need will be there when you stick your key in your door. Oh! Key."

Volker rummaged through a drawer until he find the properly labeled key. He'd exchange it for the signed lease, of course.

DINING ROOM
[Mmm... to be continued!]

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Sat Nov 07, 2015 11:56 pm

Swith Witherward wrote:Margaret accepted the payment. She wasn't a greedy woman, though. "This is more than enough, and I'll add the remaining value to a tab for you."

Amanda tried to hold a neutral expression, but a tiny smile escaped as Margaret took Primordial's ruby. Whether he meant to offer that gem for breakfast or not, it was now gone. That would teach him to show off.

Swith Witherward wrote:"Aye, there's gates," she smiled. "It's how all things get in and get out of this dimension. [...] But he's kindly, or so the holy books say, because those that worship other pantheons, well, their souls are lifted up through the Gates in order for them to find their right heavens."

Amanda listened to Margaret's description with mixed incredulity and fascination. She had no idea what to make of Demens now, but she'd definitely have to see if anybody was in the church. A living god who literally made this world just happened to be their landlord? That would take some thinking about... and asking about.

As Margaret finished her explanation and waited to see if her customers had any other requests, Amanda let her smile grow with sincere and gracious warmth. "Thank you for the lovely breakfast, Margaret. It was most welcome. I think I'd like to take a look at the rest of the Burrows. Perhaps the shopkeepers have opened for business. We'll be back for dinner, I promise." Amanda rose to leave, hoping Primordial would join her. He may be an odd, sometimes rude companion, but he was better than none at all. And it probably wouldn't hurt to keep him from giving us a bad name by accident.

by **Monfrox** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 12:03 am

"I know why we study the past. I was studying to be a history major in college back home before I came here. But, today has been a long day. For all of us. We need time to rest and recuperate. Take stock of ourselves and our surroundings. I've never seen someone die in front of me, so...I'm...I'm dealing with that. But, if there's still work to do then this isn't the time to be sitting here discussing what could've been. Let's save that for when we don't have much on our plate. I know you may not trust me so much now, but...I like to think that I got a good head on my shoulders, and that I had a lot of knowledge I've gained over my years. I guess the execution in person is the main problem. Anyway, I'll take door number two. What's the job."

She was still weighing, but she carried that leadership with her. Even if she wasn't in the official position, she'd still perform her leadership qualities. This time, though, there was no half-assing it like before or she knew what would happen. Still, she'd have to get out of the group eventually. Either that or hope that the constant exposure to wounded and gore would desensitize her and help her get over her deal with blood. That was best-case scenario.

by **Zarkanians** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 12:14 am

Cat's mouth opened, then closed. His eyes, invisible behind his goggles, darted from the clipboard, to the Cultist, to the desk, to the walls, to the lights, back to the clipboard (which was written in Colonial--the Zarkanians hadn't bothered to develop another language, and Colonial was very similar to English, due to its widespread influence at the time of the fall of Gaia and rise of Ouranos). He picked it up, removed his right glove, and felt the lease with his hand.

"This is paper!" he exclaimed. His forehead had begun to ache again, and his vision was growing black around the edges. He felt like he'd topple over if he even tried to lift his feet. This was stupid. This was so very, very stupid.

He signed the lease with the attached pen in all the indicated locations, automatically. The contract was in English, which was also the language he was speaking, at present; the Colonists had created a generalized, simple language, to help prevent conflict between the various nationalities that had escaped Gaia's death, but English had remained the most commonly spoken language, and it had survived the fall of the Colonial Empire. He handed him the clipboard, took his key, and grabbed his stylus. He felt like he was going to throw up.

"Thank you, sir. Do you think, um... Do you think you could tell me what "7A" means? And how to get there?" He cleared his throat; it was feeling dry for no good reason. He knew this place probably had a staircase, if nothing else, but he was stalling--trying to come up with a question that would get him some information about where he was. It didn't help that everything was beginning to curve up and around in his head. He looked like he was in danger of collapsing.

by **Swith Witherward** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 12:52 am

DINING ROOM
The centaur's ears flattened. He didn't know what a "geddo" was (or was that "get-toe"?) but it sounded insulting. He was about to open his mouth to insist that they were incorporated properly, and always paid the proper amount of tax - on time, too! - when Thaddeus slapped the table with his metal palm, startling Jalo into silence.

"Enough," he growled. "We won't get anywhere if we offend our closest neighbors. It's likely that the lingo differs enough. Misunderstandings are bound to occur. We also don't know the nature of the relationship between Ascalon and the Burrows. We don't want to damage that relationship. If I understand things correctly, the Major may have spoken to Representative Itum regarding it when she first arrived. Neither are here now."

The meeting had worn on long enough. Nerves were frayed, and exhaustion was bound to catch up with all of them sooner or later. Thaddeus himself was due for a maintenance cycle. His strange, silvery orbs took in each person present, noting their frustrations, apathy, or desires to be helpful. He also wasn't clueless regarding Romulus' reasoning, given that the old cyborg was once counted among the Astartes. Ah, but that was a lifetime ago, and none of his concern now.

"Romulus offers sound reasoning regarding the city. As far as their technology level? We won't know until we see it. It would easy to presume it to be akin to what we find on earth, but my view from the helicopter tells me they're probably more advanced than that."

His gaze fell upon the list, the contents of which elicited a dark grunt from him. "Seeing how we're obviously under-gunned and lacking ammo except for a few Residents, it would be prudent to pay the city a visit. We can attempt to gain an understanding of their policies regarding the village and Fiends, but we can also look at procuring weapons. For now, I suggest we all allow ourselves a few hours to rest and recuperate. The villagers have given plenty of warnings regarding going out at night. I have no desire to find out why. Let's figure out what we need, and depart for the city in the morning."

He paused to consider what Jalo had mentioned earlier. "We should also consider getting off our asses to help these good people recover their losses. After all, it was our botched bullshit that cost them all their flocks. I have a feeling this isn't going to be easy, or else the villagers wouldn't be fretting over failure."

His chair creaked as he gained his feet. Ocho pressed closer to the table to allow him to skirt by. Thaddeus pulled to blank sheets from Nila's stash, then borrowed a writing instrument.

"Let's keep the city party small," he suggested as he wrote a heading on each sheet. "They'll need to fit in my truck. We're taking the diplomat, and his fiddlehead secret service agent. He's a government official at home and in Bielefeld, and he excels at brokering trade agreements and other nonsense. We might need him to broker a deal with Ascalon. This leaves room for three or four more."

He taped the sheet to the wall, then added the second to it. "This other one is for those interested in Operation: Bo Beep. We might need a mix of magic users and fighters."

"Put me down for that one," Ocho interrupted, then smiled as Thaddeus complied.

"Right," Thaddeus stifled a yawn with a metallic hand, "The rest of you, sort it out. We'll need people to remain at the Building in case shit hits the fan here. Also, if Septimus succeeds with the building manager, we'll need people to sort the clinic."

He was done. He was so very done. "Jalo, thank you for coming all the way out here. I'm sorry you caught us on a bad day. We're usually more organized than this."

The centaur managed a smile. He understood. "Thank you as well. I'll head back to the village now."

Thaddeus followed the creature out the door, content to take an hour or two to rest his mind.

Ocho rose as well, regarding the group with his half closed eyes. "Apologies, but I'm nocturnal. I need my rest." A curved claw wagged at Nila as he added, "And you! No mischief. Behave."

The lizard's head bobbed and she fluted. Of course she'd behave.

For maybe ten minutes.

Thus the meeting came to an end, and each person in attendance was granted time to figure out what they were going to do, and what they required from the city. Time was fleeting, indeed only a skip away...

by **Swith Witherward** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 1:00 am

LOBBY
"7A? That's your apartment number," Volker chuckled as he traded clipboard for key. "Elevators to your right by the stairs. Take it up to the seventh floor. Look for the door with an "A" on it. There's a common kitchen and dining room on the second floor, as well as a recreational room with a piano and television. We have a library, a gym, and a clinic here on the first. Back garden's nice in the summer, although it's probably changed since I last saw it. And the roof offers a patio."

The cultist's head tilted as he regarded Cat's behaviors. Then it clicked. The dark goggles made sense. Light! Somehow, this smaller man was in the same boat as the large thade. Why else would he keep staring at the fixtures?

"You know, this lobby becomes ideal in the eyes of the beholder," he ventured, not wanting to insult the new arrival. "Magic, it's real. If you need it to be more dim, tell yourself it is. It will be, but only for you. One of our Residents prefers near-dark, so that's how the lobby is in his eyes. Same goes for all the common areas, and it goes triply for your own apartment."

by **Zarkanians** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 1:34 am

Oh. Well, that explained the decor.

He'd heard of illusory magic. The disciples of Envy and Lust, in Arathaea, were quite proficient in it. But he'd never heard of illusions so strong that you could touch them, and he'd certainly never heard of any that responded to the desires of the observer, rather than the spellcaster. But, sure enough, as he twisted his mind into a shape that believed in a dimmer lobby, the lights dimmed, then faded away entirely. He was left in almkst unbroken darkness. His polite smile twisted into a grin; he pulled his goggles back down around his neck, and allowed himself to see naturally, again. He could feel his eyes shining, both literally and figuratively--they were emitting a faint glow.

The memory of Arathaea, and the idea of unknown magic, had brought something new into his head. When he'd been younger, he'd dreamed of exploring the ancient desert island of their magic-dependent rivals, and learning all about their culture. As he'd grown older, he'd grown increasingly certain that he'd never have that chance--that his desire to see and learn and discover, instead of serving his purpose, would result in his termination. He'd been disappointed by that, but he'd accepted it--a purposeless individual has no purpose, by definition.

But this place had new things. This place was new. There were people here who had not known that magic was real, before they'd arrived. What did that mean? This man had been ready to present him with a lease the moment he appeared. What did that mean? There was so much he didn't know about this place, and that just made his grin grow even wider. He had a purpose, now--something real and solid to hold on to. His vision didn't clear, exactly, but everything in it hardened. The world became truer, somehow. Unable to express his sudden elation with words, or to go without trying, he simply hugged the man, tightly.

"Thank you, sir!"

Then he bolted for the elevators.

by **The BranRiech** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 9:35 am

"I can break my hand by hitting a wall too hard, you punching me in the face could have killed me! Why do you think I can fly?! My bones are fucking hollow!" Drova shouted back angrily, tensing up as Marcus moved within the chair, eyeing the boy for any hostile actions. He could have very easily jumped from the chair and finished what he'd tried earlier in the day. "And why is it up to you to make judgement calls about all this shit anyways? We don't have to be best friends with each other, fuck, we can hate each other as much as we all want, but are you going to be a piece of shit and try to alienate all our other friends!?"

He scoffed, feet taking cautious steps around the room, settling in back on the couch. His wings tucked in behind his back, back resting into the cushions. "You're a piece of fucking shit, Marcus. You know? You fucking started this. I saw you as a damned friend! You fucking went off and tried to hit me for saying I felt bad about Torii leaving!"

His anger was releasing again, pouring out of his mouth like a raging torrent.

"I hope Gio hates you now, you don't deserve her." He said, almost like a petulant child. The argument wasn't going the way he'd wanted, and there was nothing left in Drova's rattled mind to resort to other than petty assaults. "No one else judged me . . . They're real friends. I didn't judge them, and they didn't judge me."

--

"Unless I'm needed, or my helicopter is needed, I'll remain here." Bran responded with a nod, the first words he'd said in a while after zoning out slightly. Chalk it up to lack of sleep, he figured it was a combination of the sleep, and having to fly his helicopter in the rather stressful battle. "I'd rather not waste fuel flying it into the city, so I won't be taking it there unless there's like, a fueling station there." He stated with a shrug.

The man yawned, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair.

"Besides, if the building is attacked again, we'll have the Twinblade here as well, for defense and such."

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 2:58 pm

Monfrox wrote:"I know why we study the past. I was studying to be a history major in college back home before I came here. But, today has been a long day. For all of us. We need time to rest and recuperate. Take stock of ourselves and our surroundings. I've never seen someone die in front of me, so...I'm...I'm dealing with that. But, if there's still work to do then this isn't the time to be sitting here discussing what could've been. Let's save that for when we don't have much on our plate. I know you may not trust me so much now, but...I like to think that I got a good head on my shoulders, and that I had a lot of knowledge I've gained over my years. I guess the execution in person is the main problem. Anyway, I'll take door number two. What's the job."

Sandy nodded sympathetically as Brit finally opened up. It seems Brit really needs to be drawn out before she'll say anything important about what's on her mind. We'll have to talk about that too. "Yes, I can see that that's not going to put you in the best mood for talking. Take a few days to deal with it. If you want to talk to me about it, just come by."

He gave Brit a few seconds to absorb that, which gave him some time to organize his thoughts. "So, your new assignment: a few days ago, you rattled off a long list of medical supplies we should have gotten for the previous crisis. That was a good idea, and a good list. I'd like you to make a new list like that, then round up and inventory all the medical supplies in the Building. The difference between what we should have and what we do have is going to be a big part of our shopping list for Ascalon. I'd like you to present the lists when the healers meet later today, so we can discuss them. That's your job."

by **Cerillium** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 3:12 pm

HALLS

Ocho wasn't certain he still had a weapon. The thought niggled at him. His species was known for weaponsmithing and, although not the best nor the most advanced, they managed to produce some delicious firearms. Yet, that said, they were more renown for tooth-and-claw. He supposed that might come in handy while procuring more sheep (perhaps taking one or two for lunch) but it might be time to pay Klaus a visit. Surely the bastard had a means to obtain something to fit his hands?

A fat knuckle pressed the lift call button, but the thade himself was barely paying attention to the elevator's hum. He had to frame his argument. Klaus wouldn't smile and thrust some deadly shit into an outstretch palm. Bah!

His mangled ear listed forward to pick up the tattletale noise of a frustrated machine. The lift's noise indicated that the car was only one floor up but the mechanisms groaned as though they bore a heavy load. He rose to sniff the door's top edges, inhaling the flavors left upon the floor by Residents' feet, tracking the car's descent until it reached the midway point between floors. A horrid squeal sent his ear flat against his head, and he backed away from the doors just as the car beyond them came to a harsh stop.

Deuce opened his mouth to question Insidious about her methods, and whether or not she was familiar with gene-seed, but all thoughts of it vanished as the elevator slammed to a full stop. He's knees buckled to absorb the shock. The cabinet rocked and pitched backwards, catching the Astartes off guard as well as impacting his chest. Furniture and man found themselves momentarily pressed to the wall.

"You alright, Insidious?" His face loomed over the cabinet's top, eyes trained on where she'd been standing. Poor thing probably didn't appreciate the ride. The cabinet creaked as he extracted himself to stand beside the Luxan.

The alarm bell inside the elevator shaft wailed out jangled noise, delighting Deuce's senses yet causing the thade on the other side of the door to growl in discomfort.

Deuce raised his voice to be heard, "At least we didn't-"

Plummet!

Of course, as any fool will tell you, the only way to possibly survive a lift drop is to lie flat on the floor - provided the occupants weren't overly large and extremely heavy. Insidious wouldn't have a chance. Fuck the cabinet! Deuce scooped the Luxan into his arms to cushion her impact. It came quicker than expected and, despite his prepared, squatting stance, his knees gave out and dropped the pair to the floor. The noise could be heard throughout the Building. The whole structure seemed to recoil and shiver in that instant.

She continued her downward plunge but the progress was much gentler thanks to his muscles. He felt her weight lessen as her backside touched the floor. Deuce groaned and released her. It was only one storey (the elevator's final stop was the lobby floor) but it was far enough to be uncomfortable.

"Lift fell!" Ocho sounded the alarm loudly enough to be overheard by any remaining in the dining room. Forgoing the second lift, he vaulted to the stairs and catapulted his body over the steps to land heavily on the bottom landing.

MANAGERQUEST PART II...AND GYM

"BLOODY HELL!"

The manager didn't need the distant boom to tell him that something had gone awry in the Building. A muffled buzz erupted from under the desk's clutter. He lurched forward to swat birds, papers and stale tea cups from the surface until exposing a recessed glass panel. His eyes roved it, taking in the Building's displayed schematics.

"BLOODY FUCKING HELL! DON'T THEY READ THE BLOODY FUCKING SIGNS POSTED?! MY POOR LIFT!"

His wrath was apocalyptic. His hands snatched a black parakeet, and he brutally threw it at the wall. The hapless bird screamed in terror as it sailed through what should have been solid material. (It would arrive in the lift car a few seconds later to morph into a bill for damages, alighting on top of Insidious' head.)

"Aussteigen! Sortez!" he barked at Septimus and Neste, and thrust the key into the cyborg's hands. "Get out!"

The chairs pushed them to their feet before transforming into birds once more. The manager's hands curled into the fabric covering their shoulders, and he all but hauled both through his office door.

The steam room door slammed open, startling Myra from her personal sorrows. A small parakeet cloud flapped from the depths as the manager emerged, pushing Septimus and Neste ahead of him.

"VOLKER, YOU STUPID BASTARD! WO BIST DU??!" his face twisted in rage, making him almost unrecognizable to Giovenith. He didn't spare any more words. Livid parakeets trailed in his wake as his legs carried him past the teens and into the lobby.

Myra gulped. Wide eyes met Yuna's. Holy shit!

TEEN CLUBHOUSE...AND LOBBY

"Bullshit," Marcus grumbled. Birds landed hard all the time, and they fought, too. Hollow bones sounded like a lame excuse in his ears. And Drova didn't say he felt bad about Torii leaving. He said he shouldn't have asked her to be his girlfriend because he wasn't pleased about the pain it caused him.

The potshot didn't go unnoticed. That was it. He could tolerate tears and sulking - barely - but bringing Giovenith into it? That. Was. It. He was out of the chair in a heartbeat, his hand finding purchase on the prince's shirt. An arm hauled back to properly pummel Drova.

BOOM!

Something heavy pounded the ground on the other side of the clubhouse wall. Plaster splintered and fractured, sailing outward to strike both boys. Marcus coughed as dusty silt from the ceiling railed down on them. He released Drova.

The sound was eerily similar to a large tech priest toppling, or heavy equipment falling over. He instantly thought of his father. Why was he on the other side of the wall? There wasn't anything there, especially as it contained-

"The elevator shaft!" His eyes widened as he stared at Drova through the dusty cloud. "The elevator car fell!"

Were the girls in it? Was Giovenith okay? Yuna and Myra and Nick? The notion horrified him.

"Drova! Come on!"

He didn't wait for the other boy. Heavy feet propelled him towards the clubhouse door, and he muscled the phone booth away from the wall a bit more so they could get out quicker.

Volker had reached the shaft doors by time Marcus stumbled into the lobby. The cultist's hands pressed against the metal, and his voiced called out to Insidious and Deuce. "Hello in there! Can you hear me? How many are in there?"

The chirping rainbow and feathers alerted lobby-goers to the manager's presence. Marcus sucked in his breath upon spotting him. Oh, Weird Guy was pissed off. No doubt about it.

Marcus jogged to the lift. The doors were tightly sealed, and perhaps warped from the impact. Getting them open and getting people out would be a difficult feat.

by **Fvaarniimar** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 4:05 pm

Giovenith wrote:"Ohhh, this isn't your fault," she finally switched to a comforting tone as she reassured the mewing cat. "Or your's, Myra. Nick, you were just asking an innocent question, you couldn't have known, and Myra, I don't think you even lived in the Building when that happened, there's nothing you could..."
...even some milk and a saucer to offer to Nick, setting up a little private picnic for the rest of them to calm down around and get whatever they had off their chests. It was a safe place.

Not his fault? Not his fault! Giovenith would have felt relief. Not the fault of Myra either - wait, who was Myra? The rather quiet girl with whom he was currently sharing Giovenith, he thought. And Torii's friend as well? Wait, she wasn't - no, maybe she wasn't new. Nick thought he might have seen her occasionally. If both girls liked Myra, she had to be a pretty nice person. (He ignored the fact that sometimes nice people got pretty mean, not wishing to dwell on it now that he felt safe.)

No longer meowing, he blinked at the emergence of the treats. His scarf wouldn't have held that much. More magic? Novels underrated it. <Thanks!> The cat lapped some of it, but stopped sooner than he would have typically. His stomach didn't feel great - too much stress. Besides - he possibly could make a new friend! He liked having friends - a moment was spent wondering how his other friends were doing. Willow was cleaning the library. Or had he gotten distracted by a book, as Nick would've? Dusting, mopping? Reshelving? Had Torii gotten home yet? He found himself terrified as he pondered it. It was silly. What could have gone wrong? Cleaning wasn't very scary.

After licking his paws and wiping his paws, he approached Myra and set a paw on her knee. <Hi. I'm Nick...> A bit of nervousness came through, hopefully a mere vestige of recent events.

And THEN his sensitive ears picked something up, and then someone ELSE he hadn't seen before marched Mr. Itum and the nice person who was like him past the group.

"MRAEEOW!" Reflexively claws extended as ears swiveled and the cat jumped to his feet. If Myra's knees were bare and her heritage was insufficient protection she would have some scratches - probably fairly minor, although considering how Nick had spent his morning sterilization would be advisable.

--

Rmwtyliin had been snuggled under her comforter when a horribly frightening noise, although not so bad as earlier, startled her awake. Two in a day. The earlier one had been important. Maybe she should find out what this one was. Just in case, she grabbed bandages - or rather, in the form of some weird absorbent loopy cloth from the bathroom, material to make them. The clove oil was taken as well, as was a tiny saucepan.

Knock. Knock. Was 9C empty? She let herself in, sleepily trying to understand the situation. Insects. Not real. Home. Trees, a blanket hut - Her guardian was still scouting. "I am going downstairs." Waiting for the reassuring echo, her lips pushed out as she heard nothing -

Duncan. Retrieving the naked mole rat quickly - still asleep somehow - she set him carefully in the pan. It might be a fun ride, and she could certainly keep it balanced so that he wouldn't be jarred. Walking to the elevator, she pressed the down button...

If the car hadn't arrived within about one 3125th of a day or about 30 seconds, she would push her lips out and head for the stairs.

by **Monfrox** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 4:45 pm

"So, logistics? Supply? Sounds like what I did back at my squadron. Pretty important stuff. I just wish our military's logistics was such organized chaos, because that was prevalent even down to our level. Good for war, not so good during peacetime. I feel sorry for the next guy trying to do it, but that's all neither here nor there. Should I list personal property in what we have or just what we have in the clinic right now, excluding anything we own ourselves. Hmm...I'm gonna need to get a clipboard and some paper to write this down on..."

Brit went off talking as if she didn't have a choice in the matter and as if it was going to be her job no matter what. Still, she tried to put her heart into everything she did no matter what it was. At least Sandy wasn't entirely focusing on her slip, but she really wanted to just show him the other stuff that she brought with her. Maybe he'd ease up on her then. Wait, her other stuff.

"Shit, I still need to get my stuff out of the clinic too." She thought aloud.

by **The BranRiech** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 6:37 pm

"Hey-ay! Ah!" Drova tensed up, readying himself to at least be knocked out cold by a hit to his face, unable to squirrel his way out of Marcus' grasp. Drova's eyes closed tensely, still choked with tears as the milliseconds ticked by like years. A painful end didn't come to Drova this time, fortunately, as a renegade elevator car saved him from a nasty face injury, or worse. Silt, dust, and other manners of debris rained down like a light snowfall, and Drova was quick to yank his shirt back into place as Marcus ran off. "E-elevator?" He whispered, a little woozy from the sheer surprise of the impact.

"Wait . . . Yuna, Gio!?"

His mind flashed, imagining his friends and sister in a crashed elevator, their broken bodies laying on the floor of the ruined machine. His eyes widened, and he scurried off the chair, running after Marcus. He knew the others had left the teen-club as soon as the fight started, but did they go to take the elevator up to one of their rooms? The Prince desperately hoped they hadn't as he too, showed up to find Marcus and some others trying to figure out a way in, and who was inside.

"Hey, wait . . ."

Drova looked to Marcus, as he observed the doors.

"I go up a floor or two, and fly down the shaft to open the emergency door." He offered up a plan, remembering the few times he'd used the fickle human contraption, seeing the escape hatch a few times as he looked around.

--

"W-who's that?" Yuna asked, looking at Myra, her face cringed with confusion and terror. Was it something her brother had done in a fight with Marcus? She dared not think about how the two were doing, knowing that Drova wasn't the kind to back down from what he saw as an affront to his dignity. Drova just wasn't the one to let things like that slide. But Yuna's eyes were focused more on the angry man storming out through the gym, small-ish birds in tow.

"He . . . Seems really angry, about the crash? What was that even?" She sighed, looking around wildly.

by **Cerillium** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 8:34 pm

OLD SAM

Old Sam intently watched the expression conveyed by the mysterious man's golden mask. His companion addressed him as Aegis earlier, a word for a goatskin shield, and he had a magical flavor to him. The wizened old hermit had many questions. Oh, yes. Chiefly, he wanted to know more about the items on the Luxan's person and whether or not the Luxan meant to do him arm.

Kwa's introduced herself, but her curiosity swirled around ordinary charms rather than the bigger picture. He chuckled. How strange that she should be the other man's companion. Perhaps she was unaware of his aura. Likely. Old Sam didn't doubt Aegis had a few tricks up his sleeve.

"It's a standard charm. You'll find such things in this part of Gallimaufry Mundi. You're just west of the Feywold. The further into it you get, the more you'll wish you hadn't seen magic at all. Most people don't study the Craft." His eyes twinkled. "I perhaps seem a showoff. I'm not. My weary bones ache, so the enchantments ease my burden. I'm a Necromancer by trade, a Summoner by chance, and a Druid by necessity." He let that sink in, taking the moment to swig his brew.

"My turn again," Old Sam dabbed his mouth's corners with his sleeve. "The birds tell me your people restored the ruins, enchanted the grass, and set a brush fire. I want to know what you plan to do about replacing the sheep."

GYM

Sssss ow ow ow! Myra winced as little needles pierced her skin. You couldn't love a cat if you couldn't love his prickly toes, and Myra was no exception to the rule. She forgave him in an instant.

The moment became surreal. The cat had spoken. Yes? He'd introduced himself. Cats don't impart their thoughts. Do they? And the birds. So many birds. It was the godling's paper, only they looked real. Really real. Oh God, what if the explosion was Marcus? Maybe he got so angry that he burst? Myra winced, and then protectively drew the cat from the floor and to her chest.

"S'okay, Nick," her mouth pressed to his ear to murmur reassurances. "I won't let him hurt you."

The cat gave her purpose, transforming the wallflower into a brave girl willing to protect an animal. She met Yuna's gaze again. "Dunno. He was mad. Sh-should we go see? Should we see if-"

No. She wasn't going to think of the possibility that Marcus and Drova had somehow managed to kill each other.

LOBBY

Marcus' curt nod affirmed his agreement with Drova. His face became grim. "You'll need tools. I'll come with you in case the hatch is stuck. Might take two of us to pull them out."

All his prior animosity faded away as the two bolted up the stairs. There was a time and place for that shit. This wasn't it. Marcus' heavy footfalls brought him to the second floor doors. A glance at them was enough to indicate that they were old fashioned, center-opening doors, and lacked the little round keyhole that kept them firmly locked when a car wasn't present.

"We'll force them open," he advised Drova. "You take one side, I'll take the other, and we'll force them apart."

by **Giovenith** » Sun Nov 08, 2015 8:51 pm

Willow glanced at Klaus, looked to the out the distance, then glanced at the avatar again.

How would you rewrite the divine game?

To say that was a loaded question would be an understatement. Even for the most reckless skeptic, the stigma was still recognizable, it rang of what some might call hubris: insolence before the gods. Nothing quite as insolent as telling somebody else how to do their job after all, yes? Still, if it was, it was a god asking him to commit hubris in the first place, and Willow had never had trouble being insolent before--it more or less came with the package of being a modern artist. Now he had to repaint the world.

He cleared his throat. "I think before I give my piece, I will say that whatever the solution may be, it will require overcoming one very large obstacle: The sheer imbalance of power. Gods are still gods, and as you said, they're often vain and hungry for power, and they most certainly have better means than us in getting what they want. Even if you and I come up with the greatest idea here and now, it may mean nothing if a god just decides to screw the rules and knock everything over."

It was with that disadvantage that Willow delved into his imagination to find at least some theoretical suggestion. Within his mind, he separated himself from all that he was used to knowing when it came to gods (yes, even Celestia and Luna), and tried to instead to play the role of creator in making a new world.

"It would take openness, and a willing to get down on mortals' level," he finally began. "It would have be like business, I suppose. For the customers, the mortals, quality is consistently demonstrated, and feedback is taken into account--there is no blind, "get what you get and don't throw a fit," there is tangible, proven communication with the divine. If another "business", another god, doesn't feel like competing with those standards, then they can go ahead and fail to attract attention. As you said, we need to prune the ones who aren't actually doing anything, though this way they're essentially pruning themselves out of the mix. Nopony to be mad at but themselves. And like any business, nopony has to buy what they're selling, and nopony really knows what they're missing out until they try it for themselves... an atheist could still be an atheist, a non-believer, though probably to a lesser degree since they could talk with others who are being given tangible divine assistance."

He stopped to think. That was the ideal outcome, but the question was how to go about actually accomplishing it? The biggest problem Willow foresaw was gods getting stingy and pining for "the good ol' days", then going back to their old ways and setting a bad example. Either the gods would have to suddenly magically become extremely with the times and altruistic, or... he paused. Or they would have never had the chance to be spoiled like that in the first place.

Willow gave very considerable consideration to his next question, and possible answer. It was likely a stupid longshot, but they didn't have a lot of alternatives on the table. "Do you know if there are others like Giovenith?" he asked. "Like, tangible, extremely young, born-and-raised modern day gods?"

--

Upon the angry one moving out the door, Giovenith had immediately shot up from her spot and peaked out it herself, shooing feathers from her face.

"Yes, we should investigate," she said to the others. "Explosions inside buildings, even magic ones, are never a good sign. We should at the very least move out in case of danger..."

She called several paper birds to clean up the picnic.

by **Highfort** » Mon Nov 09, 2015 5:39 am

"Thank you, sir," Septimus offered a nod and a poorly-hidden sigh of relief as the Manager offered him the key to the fifth floor and ended the meeting. Things would no-doubt have gotten out of control had the proceedings been allowed to go any further, and in any case it had ended on a high note. He and Neste had managed to make a fair case for the Residents - and if they could do it to the Manager of the Building then they could certainly do it elsewhere. The Residents of the Building and of this new world wouldn't be too much to handle.

Or so he hoped.

Neste's reponse to his suggestion troubled the cyborg, however. He sensed that something was wrong, though he could only feel faint fetters through the tether. It seemed as though she didn't want to make a big deal out of the battle, earlier, despite the fact she'd almost lost her life. Still, it wasn't his place to judge how she wanted to behave, as long as no one was put in danger and she didn't end up hurting herself, she could have her private thoughts.

"I'll try and find Thaddeus before we have to do anything else, I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you a once-over. Just to be safe."

Septimus hoped he didn't sound as panicked as he felt. The pangs of sorrow he could just barely make out through the tether - like breath receding on a mirror - had sent parts of his mind concerned with pain and fear into overdrive. He forced himself to control them, however, and unconsciously ground his teeth as he stood up from the chair to take his leave. This was neither the time nor the place - and with such an excellent reception from the Manager, it would be a shame to spoil the presentation.

Before he could fully compose himself to reenter the lobby and find out how the meeting was going along, however, his eardrums were shattered by the screeching of the suited man. Makeup accentuated the rage that played across the Manager's face as he cursed and shoved the cyborg and the construct through his office door.

A lift? What was he talking about? The elevator in the Lobby? Was that the booming? Septimus was more confused than horrified, though the latter came a close second as being in any proximity to the Manager when he was angry was quickly proving to be an unpleasant experience.

Instead of emerging in the dreary basement as he was shoved through the office door, Septimus found himself staring at workout equipment and weights shoved up against a wall. A gym?

Unable to tell where he was - many of the Building's amenities were, unfortunately, alien to the comparatively-new resident - Septimus was nevertheless given little time to take in the space before he and Neste were, rather roughly, escorted into the Lobby. Pushes and shoves from the Manager reminded the cyborg that the man behind them was not in a good mood at all and that going along with the parakeet-obsessed man's whims was the wiser choice.

Septimus palmed his face even as he and Neste were shoved to the side of the Lobby so the Manager could inspect the damages done to his precious lift. Great, that's just what they needed - equipment to start failing right after they were informed that combat was a way of life on Gallimaufry. And it just had to be an elevator, one of the few pieces of equipment they needed for the hospital on the fifth floor to function properly.

If only the processor were fully operational and its snide commentary was worming its way through his head. That would complete Septimus' utterly shitty day.

"Let's not get hasty, if anyone has a crowbar or something to wedge the elevator door open, we can start with that," the Representative tiredly took up his position and walked up to the elevator doors - though he steered clear of the Manager and accompanying parakeets - to inspect them, "Someone get a healer so we can tend to whoever was inside. Unfortunate bastards are probably in rough shape."

by **Primordial Luxa** » Mon Nov 09, 2015 11:27 am

Burrows
Primordial happily let Margret take the ruby it was only one of the dozen he had in his pockets and which he had created this morning out of some mineral water and stygian nucleus’s using various disturbing alchemical procedures. He typically carried jewels as opposed to currency when in a foreign place because they transcended regular monetary rules most of the time. Who would object to a ruby or diamond the size of their fist if someone offered it. However he did want to get some of his artificial treasures traded in for actual currency for their would be surely someone who would have some reason to reject his prefered method of payment.

As Amanda got up to leave Primordial thanked Margaret and followed her thinking about what Margret had described. Her talk of gate guardians sent a suspicious shiver down his spine as he imagined what kind of horrors might dwell there and his mind conjured up revolting images of daemonic leering shapes which he had heard about in relation to the All in One who he was sure must be involved in this place in some way.

“Perhaps we should do some shopping until the hunters get back” Primordial suggested “I’d love to find a bookstore, some local oddities shop or a jeweller. When it gets a little be later there will be people I can talk to about the sheep and see if their anything to do about that. If thats interesting to you. I know I want to get as good of a reputation as I can early on perform odd things start happening.”

Elevator
Insidious skin changed from its usual grey and black serpentine pattern into a sudden splash of red and yellows which looked like fireworks detonating across her body mirroring her sudden stress and tension at being pitched to and fro in a such a violent manner after the rapid jerking of the mechanical box. She was quickly able to regain her balance but her skin began settling into layered hues of crimson and amber. “I’m fine” she said resting a hand against on of the halls while looking at the cabinet, it had an abnormal second-dimension shield that should protect it from almost anything but she did want to test that theory.

As a physical specimen Insidious was intimidating but not nearly as much as the robust and downright legendary prowess of a space marine. Normally her genetically and surgically enhanced speed and strength was hidden behind a layer of color changing skin and intoxicated movements but she could be quite athletic when she wanted to be. Unfortunately or perhaps fortunately when the lift plummeted she didn't have much response to the powerful movements of the haemastamen, biscopea, and ossmodula enhanced actions of Deuce and was carried along for the ride mostly.

When they landed she quickly scampered to her feet trying to find some purchase while calling out “Dexter are you alright. Bloody Leng what happened? I could have sworn the lifts were more stable than that.”

Old Sam
Aegis tried to keep his mask from display too much of any emotion but it raised a clockwork eyebrow when the topic of sheep came up. “Sheep?” Aegis thought for a moment, he hadn't seen any of the sheep because he had only joined the fight later on and had always been too far from the villagers most of the time to see them and had missed the sheep completely in his bloodlust. However he had heard some brief glimpses of conversation once the fight was over which he remembered now that the topic was brought up again. He was sure he had heard a centaur and one of the other residents talking about sheep missing or something along those lines so he was able to infer Old Sams point.

“Oh Sheep.” He finally said “Well if I understand right I’m sure a small group of us may be dealing with that right now or at least very soon. I have no doubt one of our girls could create a whole herd of them out an adorable drawing or perhaps the cold blooded ones might stretch their expert cloning skill and produce a couple thousand. I can say for certain but I’m sure it will get done eventually.”

“My turn. What is the most dangerous thing in the nearby vicinity? What would you say posses the biggest threat to body, mind and soul in these parts, aside from the fiends?”

by **Fvaarniimar** » Mon Nov 09, 2015 11:58 am

The birds left before the cat had regained his senses, much to his frustration. There were feathers he could chase and - maybe in a moment. He huddled closer, nosing Myra's chin. <Thanks. I uh I'm really sorry...> Confusion. Myra's response wasn't typical. <You're...> he finally ventured, <You're not mad at me? But...I hurt you... Are you okay?>

Another - Yuna - spoke. He activated his collar. "Yes. That noise - what was it?" He listened to Giovenith. Oh - like a mystery? That did sound fun, but what if someone was hurt? Someone else. Myra would feel shame, then determination.

<Then I> can <help.> Move out in case of danger. Go investigate. "It came from..." Outside this door was the lobby? "That way." He pointed, roughly to Septimus, thinking - "Elevators?" A paper bird flitted past. A paw smacked it (or tried to, if it would perform evasive manuvers.)

---

Wool. Meat. She expected the sheep were a livelihood for some - some could raise the sheep, others could prepare the wool. An ideal arrangement. Had Euphemia had said something about sheep? Kwa'a thought that maybe she had - right. She'd noticed because Euphemia's mother had been mentioned.

"When do you...cut them? Their wool?" She glanced at Aegis, who wasn't even finished speaking. Would Old Sam think her blurt was a question? "I'm sorry. Please answer...Aegis." It certainly was, as stated, his turn to ask, and her curiosity was largely irrelevant. Although perhaps we should find out when they'll need the sheep...

---

The elevator arrived quickly. Looking at the buttons - numbered in three scripts - Rmwtyliin pressed the one which sent the box to the second floor from the bottom. The kitchen, library and dining room were all there. Someone there - VIII - likely could explain.

The - VII - contraption had frightened her at first, but...VI...to peel her shell, it - V - really was incredibly useful. 4 - Much faster than the - 3 - stairs -

The doors opened with a chime. She stepped out, nudging Duncan awake with a finger. "What is happening? What was the noise?" Assuming Duncan would remain in the pot, the translation would ring oddly - that's what happens when a person speaks into, or from, a metal container.

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Mon Nov 09, 2015 5:26 pm

The Building

Monfrox wrote:"So, logistics? Supply? Sounds like what I did back at my squadron. Pretty important stuff. I just wish our military's logistics was such organized chaos, because that was prevalent even down to our level. Good for war, not so good during peacetime. I feel sorry for the next guy trying to do it, but that's all neither here nor there. Should I list personal property in what we have or just what we have in the clinic right now, excluding anything we own ourselves. Hmm...I'm gonna need to get a clipboard and some paper to write this down on..." [...] "Shit, I still need to get my stuff out of the clinic too." She thought aloud.

Good Lord, now that I got her talking, she can't stop! Brit finally came up for air, and Sandy answered her question. "Good thinking. Make the list both ways, with people's property and without. 'With' tells us what what we have for dire emergencies, but 'without' says what we can expect to use normally. Oh, and not just what's in the clinic. Since we were treating people in several places, supplies could be scattered around the Building. Things could also be left--"

The Building shuddered, and Sandy froze, trying to make sense of what happened. "What the hell??" He cast the Wolf's Ears on himself, closed his eyes, and listened intently, slowly turning his head to better hear sounds from different directions. He shook his head. "Nothing else... no smaller explosions, nothing like metal straining. We should find out what happened. Let me think for a sec." Sandy considered for a few seconds, coming up with a plan. "OK, we'll take the stairs and check every floor: you go down, I'll go up. Don't take the elevator, in case that was an explosion and there's a fire on a lower floor. I'll meet you wherever the problem is. Make sense?"

Sandy gave Brit a scant second to agree before wearily levering himself out of his chair, muttering "Never a dull moment." He led Brit out of the apartment, pulling the door locked behind him.

Sandy jogged to the staircase, pausing on the landing long enough to cast the Wolf's Nose. He ascended the stairs, repeating the same routine on every higher floor: listen and sniff at the stairwell door, look down the hall, then walk down it, checking every door. Finding nothing inside nor on the roof, he became Pegasus, and glided down to the ground in front of the main doors.

He paused there, listening to the ward Primordial had placed on the door. It was unfamiliar magic, both in structure and function, but a well thought out idea. He'd have to talk to whoever put it there, though, since the spellcasters should coordinate magical defenses with the soldiers' physical ones. Sandy returned to his normal form.

The lobby was a mad-house when Sandy entered, and he quick-walked toward the back wall, where the activity seemed densest. He called out, "What happened? Is anybody hurt?"

The Burrows

Primordial Luxa wrote:“Perhaps we should do some shopping until the hunters get back” Primordial suggested “I’d love to find a bookstore, some local oddities shop or a jeweller. When it gets a little be later there will be people I can talk to about the sheep and see if their anything to do about that. If thats interesting to you. I know I want to get as good of a reputation as I can early on perform odd things start happening.”

'Odd things'? Amanda led the way out of the inn, talking to Primordial as she went. "Shopping... or window shopping at the very least. We should learn what's on offer here, since this seems to be the only market for miles around. Let's start by heading back towards the Building to see if any of the stalls and shops we passed before have opened up."

Outside, Amanda walked a bit away from the inn's front door. She looked around, and not seeing anybody too close to them now, turned towards Primordial and whispered. "'Odd things?' What odd things do you expect to start happening?" Her suspicious expression matched her tone.

by **The BranRiech** » Tue Nov 10, 2015 2:26 am

"It uh . . . Does have a hatch, right?" Drova asked, leaning against the side of the door opposite of Marcus. He wanted to punch the other boy in the face, but he knew the animosity wasn't something to bring up in an emergency. He didn't know how it would go between the two when the whole situation was sorted out, but it was a pleasant change of pace to the hostility of the past. Lingering thoughts still made Drova anxious though, wondering exactly who was in the elevator, and whether or not they were alive.

"Pull?"

Drova looked to the door, letting his fingers find purchase in the crack in the middle, pulling towards him, leaning back.

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

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