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

[Monfrox]

"Me?! Why me! I didn't do shi-...anything! I just stood there with a scowl the whole time. Hmmm...do I really have to? I mean, I'm not going to be able to fit in here on my own without actively trying, so I don't know how long I can go until my cover is blown. What could she possibly want with me anyway?"

Brit looked between Chrys and Clover, really not wanting to leave either of them and be alone in a very unfamiliar universe. That was like wandering out of the house into the forest outside simply because a disembodied voice called your name. She was visibly bothered, and even swiped one of the gems over to use as an impromptu mirror while she turned her the makeup into a sort of camouflage war paint since it wouldn't come off.

[Swith Witherward]

LOBBY
Volker smoothed his grey woolen nazi uniform before curling a hand to stifle a short cough. The droid's title of address for Dora was a good enough clue for the front desk cultist. He had no intention of prying Septimus away from whatever mourning process he currently endured, however. Sometimes a man needed to strip off his mantel for his own sake. "Right, Opa. Confederation? You seem too high tech for Torsiedelle. My guess would be the cyborgs. Brother Itum of Agymnum, no doubt, though he's indisposed right now. We'll leave a message for him, and leave it at that."

Now on to bigger fish. His blue eyes twinkled as he regarded the panicked Astra.

"Good evening, to be exact," he pointed towards the front windows where the darkness of night cloaked the view. "I am Volker, and I run the front desk here at Demens' Towers. You are here because this is where you are called to be. It's a rare honor, madam. Each of us was called, through one means or another."

He folded his hands in front of his belly and offered a warm smile to the woman. "It's very confusing, we know. Do not be afraid. Whatever gods you call your own - they have not abandoned you. You are simply chosen above the rest of your people. For what reason? I can not say. It's not my place to second-guess Demens. I also don't know what the future holds. The present, however, isn't too bad. You're among friends here in the Building. It is your sanctuary, a place of refuge, a place to refresh and renew."

[Swith Witherward]

OOC: Leaving quote in for Cer to refer to.

Rache and Willow

"Mmmmhm." Aurora Mist deemed Rache strange, but nothing more of it beyond that. He was an oddity outsider, so it was to be expected. She didn't elaborate on the status of the Commander... she was under orders not to.

Ordering the other team members into a new direction, the lieutenant explained some of the basics of the boundaries along the way, carefully pulling out a map from her satchel to better demonstrate. "Even though Cynisca itself is in the sky, we still retain ownership of the grounds directly below it, though we're not very protective of it. None the less, Earth ponies generally respect those territory lines. If the reports about where you and your companion landed are accurate, then you were both well within our vicinity territory, meaning that even if you had landed on the ground instead of the sky, you'd still be in pegasi territory. If we're lucky and your guess is correct, your friends might be wandering around down there somewhere. That's probably a best case scenario..."

Her hoof moved downward and jabbed at Groundtown. "However, if they wandered too close into Earth pony territory, there's no telling what might have happened. Sometimes the township lynches, sometimes they turn wanderers loose. We believe that there are likely opinions at war among them, on whether or not attacking and killing outsiders is acceptable, meaning that while there is a danger, we at least can assume it's not directly institutional. The mud-dwellers may have very well released your companions or are at least holding them hostage, so there is some hope if it turns out they wandered to far into the other territory."

She looked at Rache. "I must give you an unfortunate warning: If it turns out the Earth ponies have killed your friends, there is very little we can do about it. Many of the pegasi in our city would like to go to war with the other cities, but there has never before been war between the tribes, and only the Commander has the authority to ever declare it, so should anypony ever go rogue and attempt an attack on either Groundtown or Caer Gloriana, they are disowned by Cynisca for the greater protection of the city. Tensions are high though. This is a very dark and difficult time for us all. If however they are merely imprisoned, we can easily cook up an ambassador to negotiate their release."



Rusted locks and chains pooled to the pavement after a brief ticking and tinkering with their inner levers. It hadn't been too difficult to pick, as they had only served as a minor deterrent to an otherwise unassuming building. The opening was just with a wet little alley and the indication that it lead to a 'museum' nonexistent, leaving Willow feeling very confused. He was used to seeing museums as these prestigious, towering, well-kept things, but this felt like they were breaking into some abandoned shack.

"I thought you said you had a key," Pansy remarked critically to Cloud Duster, who was flipping back in the blade he'd used to pick the lock.

"Oho, Pansy, everypony has keys," he explained with a slightly condescending niceness. "The question is whether or not one can utilize them!"

Willow tentatively pushed the door open a few meters before it hit something blocking it. It felt like a box. He tried to give an extra shove to the door to push it out of the way, which succeeded but also sent a flurry of dust into the three pegasi's faces, irritating their eyes and sending them into coughs and wheezing. The space inside was pitch black, as somepony had neglected to position the cloud plaster in such a way that light could get in.

"Oh, this can't be it!" Willow backed up a few steps, irritated at the lack of glamour to the place. "You've brought us to the wrong place."

"No, no, this is it, see?" Cloud Duster pointed to a brass sign that had been bolted atop the door that was engraved in Greek script (Μουσεῖον), which Willow could not read. Though guessing from Pansy's calm reaction, he had to assume this was correct, and reluctantly followed the two into the dark, dusty, crowded room.

Barely five steps in Willow's hooves were already kicking into more boxes, which all clattered and tinkled from the unceremoniously piled artifacts within them, as well as piles of them brushing into his feathers if he tried to open his wings. Pansy managed to wiggle herself enough room to fly her way up to the low ceiling and use her hoof to drag along a long, slitted opening across it, letting in the dim winter light and illuminating the room. Sterling would have had a heart attack. The whole place was less a museum and more a supply closet, with all the supposed "important" antiques, plates, and papers carelessly tossed into disposable boxes that had either be stacked or just left on the floor. Larger items that could not be fit into boxes, such as a set of seemingly outdated armor or two, were pushed up against the walls and in corners, many leaning against one another haphazardly since whoever managed this place couldn't be bothered to give them actual independent supports. Dust, rare in cloud cities but not impossible, completely bathed the place, the particles visibly dancing and swirling in the light.

"Great, this is just great," Willow huffed, falling low and roughly grabbing a box to begin digging through. "Some museum! Why is this place such... such... trash?" He moved aside several faded metal vases before concluding none of his antiques were inside it, pushing it aside and grabbing another. "All the museums I've seen were places of respect, they kept the treasures behind glass and gilded fencing, there was respect. This is just... gah! Why?"

Pansy descended from the museum and gently ran one of her hooves down some abandoned spear in a corner. "I guess ponies just don't care about these sorts of things here..."

"Don't cut yourself now," Cloud Duster gently grabbed one of Willow's hooves from plunging too quickly into a box that held a few parchments and daggers. "No sense getting an infection when resources are already scarce."

Willow roughly pulled his hoof away. "Infection would just be another drop in the bucket for this place!" he snapped. He glared briefly but Cloud Duster's eyes only took on a kind of glassy look as he slowly tilted his head, causing Willow to soften and sigh. "I'm sorry. It's just, really, really important that I find what I'm looking for. My... family's, way of life depends on it. It was my job to care of the antiques too. Honestly, it's really my fault we're back here in this dire situation in the first place..." He pushed the box away, looking and feeling defeated. "I've had plenty of time to figure the things out that I was supposed to. But I haven't. I'm every bit as clueless now as I was in the beginning. I don't know if I'm just an idiot, or inept, or whatever, but... I'm just not right to handle this. I'm not. I've never been right at handling anything."

Although he often hid it well, whenever Willow was especially upset about something, he had a tendency to regress back into the insecurities of his youth. Childhood had been plagued by self-exaggerated but powerful feelings of ineptitude and disappointment for him, manifested even in even normal situations by his regular dedication to hyper-competence and logic. Willow did not like letting others down. Especially not now, not when it meant he could cause so many people to lose everything, including the loved one of Rache's host, including both his and Giovenith's close friends. Rache was going to return soon likely without any clue about where the others were and if Willow didn't have anything to show himself, they were right back to square one, and it was all because of him and his stupid antiques.

The painter from the future sighed deeply to release the growing tension in his chest and tried to disguise a quick wipe of budding tear as wiping dust from his eye. Across the room Pansy's eyes had begun to grow wide and glossy, hoof sliding off the spear and ears and mouth lines drooping in clear sympathy. Before she could get a word in though, Cloud Duster had already swooped in, making himself comfortable next to Willow and pulling the box back close.

"You don't seem incompetent to me," he reassured in a controlled, relaxing tone, much akin to that of a friendly teacher or counselor. "Sure, you've never been in the agoge which means you can't do objectively as much as some of us, but for what you have experienced, you're quite the prodigy. Most untrained ponies don't just fly in down a slope and whack a bunch of ghoulings for fifteen minutes straight and come out alive."

Willow snorted. "Yeah, well..." he grumbled dismissively, unconvinced.

Cloud Duster's simplistic little smile didn't waver, his marble-like glassy gaze only rolling down toward the box as he began to search through it. "You also have a comparatively very exaggerated way of speaking compared to us, so if you lived here, ponies would probably slap you for whining a lot. You're also one of the smallest built stallions I've ever seen, so I assume you don't exercise well. Most of our Domestic mares could beat you in direct confrontation."

"Okay," Willow accepted the criticisms, but with some annoyance. 180-degree, much?

"I also could tell the sign out there didn't register to you, so there go your reading skills."

"Okay."

"You're also way too old to catch up in agoge at this point, so you better hope you miraculously meet a nice random mare from outside your family out there in your little travels, 'cause you're not getting married otherwise."

"Cloud Duster! I said ok-"

The younger soldier cut him off with a hoof to the mouth, ending Willow's protests in mumbles. He continued: "You're right. Okay. It is okay. Acknowledging your flaws doesn't mean you can't still like yourself."

Willow shoved off Cloud Duster's hoof with narrowed eyes, but his expression began to soften as the other young stallion's words sunk in. Acknowledging your flaws doesn't mean you can't still like yourself. Nothing about those words actually changed anything. Rache was still gong to come back empty hooved. Willow was still stuck in a mountain-load of meaningless, disorganized nick-nacks with no clue about where to start. Pansy was still in danger of falling by fate's hand any moment and completely obliterating his entire existence. He was still frustrated and afraid. But that was okay. Because just because these things were all true didn't mean he couldn't still find something good in himself. He was trying, wasn't he?

Pansy flapped over from her spot by the corner onto the floor near the two colts, tentatively taking a few steps forwards and lowering her head in attention and slight anxiousness. Willow sighed and gave her a small smile and nod, reassuring that it was okay to approach. He wasn't the type of guy who let his own ill feelings negatively restrict others. That was a good thing about him. Smiling back for the first time since he'd met her, she pushed away two other boxes and made herself comfortable as possible in front of the two guys.

"What do you think you're good at?" Cloud Duster asked, smiling and putting a hoof on Willow's back.

"Ahh," Willow waved dismissively. "I'm not going to sit here and brag about myself when we have so much work to do. We should be looking for the antiques I lost."

Cloud Duster pointed out the lighting from the ceiling slit. "It will be curfew very soon, we honestly don't have all that much time to efficiently search all these boxes. You and Rache are staying the night at my home anyway, we'll have plenty of time to come back and look tomorrow, early in the morning. Most of me and Pansy's agoge training has been canceled because of the weather, so we'll be right there with you."

"Eh, I don't know."

"Come ooooon, it's not like you're being arrogant or anything, you've clearly got a good sense of humility. It's not bragging, it's pep talk. Give yourself a pep talk! You deserve it. Besides, aren't we all way more likely to get a task done quickly and efficiently if we're feeling good about ourselves? Pansy wants to hear." He calmly gestured to the young mare, who perked in surprise.

"Oh, uh," she smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her head, not expecting to have been addressed. "Yeah, sure, I do."

"Ehhhhh," Willow thought about, feeling surprisingly flattered. He smiled slightly, finding himself on board with Cloud Duster's logic, if only because this day had been so long, confusing, and hard that it would be nice to just stop, sit down, and dwell on the familiar for just a little bit. "I guess, yeah. Well, I'm a really good artist, that's the most obvious one."

"An artist?" Pansy blinked in surprise. "They never let us focus on art here."

"That's just one of the ways Willow is special," Cloud Duster said to her, so plainly and obviously.

"OH! Pfff!" Willow waved that away. "Come on!"

"Pep talk, remember? It's okay to be corny," the blue pony egged on with a teasing smile. "Tell us about your oh-so-forbidden art, Private Special. It's intriguing."

Willow wasn't sure if they would have any concept or grasp of abstract painting, so he decided to bend the truth a little for the sake of his cover. "I mostly sketch things that we see on our travels, you know, for future documentation and reference."

"Ohhhhhh. Anything else?"

"Well, sometimes I like to take inspiration from things I have seen to create new ideas. Like, uh, using different parts of birds to draw an imaginary new bird?"

"How queer! But very, very interesting. Pansy is correct, we're very much discouraged from such things around here," Cloud Duster suddenly grabbed Willow by the shoulders and leaned in by his ear. "I once saw a little colt lashed with a switch thirty-five times for stealing some coal and parchment to draw a rabbit..."

"Oh jeeze, that's awful!" Willow recoiled in horror.

"Aftó eínai Kyníska! He was alright. Do you do anything else?"

"Well..." Willow rubbed his chin. Again, he didn't want to reveal anything that could displace him. "I, like to think that I'm a logician and a skeptic. I don't really believe in a lot of popular myths or fairy tales or anything. I need for things to be presented to me, or argued well. It leads to some arguments sometimes with my, uh... sister. But we still get along pretty well most of the time?"

"Is your sister one of the ponies that got lost out there?" Pansy asked, tipping her hoof to her lips worriedly.

"No, we left her with other family in another far off land," Willow said, doing his best to not lie too ambitiously. "Because she's young. One of the reasons we need to get back soon is so she doesn't worry about us."

"Don't you have a sister, Cloud Duster?" Pansy suddenly looked up at the other Cyniscan pony.

Cloud Duster's calm expression didn't fall or budge, but he did pause for beat before answering. "No."

"No? But," Pansy winced thoughtfully. "No, you're always with a girl though, she looks a little like you. She whistles a lot when she talks because of the gap in her teeth?"

"Kiiiiiinda getting a bit off topic there, Pansy," Cloud Duster gently touched Willow's shoulders again. "We're trying to make Willow feel better."

"Actually, I think I'm feeling pretty good already," Willow reassured, cracking a few joints back into place as he stood up, shaking the dust off from his tail and feathers. "I guess you were right Cloud Duster, I just needed to sit down for a moment and pep myself a little. Thank you. Honestly, I can't thank you enough for everything you've been doing, you just kind of came out of nowhere and started helping us. I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, but... why?" He offered a hoof for the other pegasus to stand up.

Cloud Duster smiled with clear self-contentedness, accepting the offer and getting to his hooves. "Does a pony need an excuse to do good things?"

"Nope!" the born and raised Equestrian saw no flaw with that logic, smiling and nodding along at the rhetorical question. Yes, yes, somepony who finally got it! He was really glad and grateful to have such a caring new friend.

Pansy, born and raised Cyniscan, wasn't quite so decisive. Although the little talk had actually done well to make her feel calmer about the situation than before, she still sucked in her lips and knitted her brow silently in slight discomfort at the certainty Willow and Cloud Duster carried between the two of them about these 'super positive' principles. Pansy was a skeptic herself. Just much, much meeker about it.

"I do think we should probably be heading out now," Cloud Duster looked up at the ceiling slit. "It's going to be dark soon, we don't want any of the vigiles swatting us for making mischief. I'm sure when your Rache comes back, the proper authorities will show him the way to my house."

"Yes, that's a good idea," Willow nodded, convinced.

"You two go on ahead," the blue soldier urged Pansy and Willow. "Just go make your way to the square, and I'll meet you up there. I'm just going to close everything up here."

So Pansy and Willow left, bracing themselves against the wind and cold as they flew around and out the alley, then up the street while Cloud Duster remained behind to handle putting the tricky chains back into place. Some short time after going ahead, Pansy spoke up.

"Willow, I just wanted to say that I appreciate you were willing to admit how you felt bad about your situation," she said. "Most ponies don't do that. Nopony here wants to appear weak, or make it seem like they've lost control. We're expected to bottle it up."

"To be honest, I usually bottle it up too," he had to admit. "But I'll let it out if I'm at a breaking point. I'm uh, glad you appreciate it though."

"I wish I could be more open like that," she admitted, looking ahead. "I'm not a very strong pony. You saw how I fell down the slope. Lieutenant Star Catcher lectured me at the hall, she said I needed to be more careful or I could die. I'm not good at being assertive, so I'm not a very good soldier. Nopony thinks so, anyway." Her ears folded and she looked downward, clearly dejected.

Ah. So that was the reason for the constant gloomy aura. Willow had flashbacks to countless years of watching the Hearth's Warming Eve pageant, Private Pansy the Character always largely morphed into an element of comic relief despite her important role, exaggeratedly screaming and jumping around on stage at the fake sounds of thunder and howling windigo wind. He suddenly felt like shit for laughing every time. It couldn't have been very funny for her, a naturally calm and careful pony born into a harsh time and place of survival and fighting. He could relate to that with his own upbringing, and he suddenly found himself awash with a newfound respect for her; not merely as a founder of Equestria, but as a pony.

He put a friendly foreleg around her shoulders as they flew and smiled. "Well I believe that you've got a greater purpose out there for you, just the way you are."

"I thought you said you only believed in things with proof," she countered, sucking in her cheeks. "Why do you say so?"

He chuckled. "Hey, these are desperate times. And in desperate times, sometimes even I have to go out on a good hunch."


Meanwhile, Cloud Duster was whistling a tune to himself as he pushed several boxes back into place, closed the door, and started untangling the chains on the ground to lock back onto the handles. He froze when a voice came from behind him.

"Duster..."

Cloud Duster glanced over his shoulder. There behind him stood another Private, slightly older than him (maybe about a year or two older than Willow), helmet left behind somewhere and a standard scarf similar to Rache's team's fixed around his neck. He did not look pleased, though he didn't seem looking for a fight either.

"Silver Wind..." Cloud Duster greeted in a jesting tone, parodying the stallion's own severity. He laughed a little. "You need something, sir?" He managed to untangle most of the chains, and snapped the large lock shut on the end of one of them.

"During the ghouling attack, you willfully abandoned the post I gave you," Silver Wind said, clearly upset. "Several ponies saw you fly off without warning down the mountain slope without warning or explanation. That was unacceptable!"

The younger soldier wasn't phased. He continued to work with the chain, easing it's length by tying a bit of the end a few loops around his right hoof. "I had other things to do. Lieutenant Star Catcher already knows, and she was not upset. She gave me a new assignment."

"That's just it!" Silver Wind continued. "I'm getting real sick of this Private Cloud Duster, I'm getting real sick of you always just going off and doing whatever you want and never even getting any punishment for it. I'm the prefect of your cabin! You're supposed to listen to me."

"Let's talk about this some other time, yeah?" Duster's tone had dropped slightly, going from calm to full monotone, a soft, tingling metallic taste beginning to fill his mouth. He still didn't lend Silver Wind the courtesy of turning to look at him, still preoccupied with the locks and chains. "I've got better things to do."

"No!" the minor superior snapped, stomping a hoof on the ground. "You know who gets in trouble when you disobey orders? Me, me and everypony else in your group too. We get in trouble because we didn't stop you, but you always freaking sneak off before we can stop you. We get in trouble, not you. That's not fair Cloud Duster, and it's ending right now. I'm in charge, and I'm not going to leave you alone until you come back to the barracks and apologize to the other-"

Four teeth went flying from Silver Wind's open mouth as the big rusty lock collided into it, turning his muzzle into a red waterfall. Loose chain bits soon flew in after it, heavy metal links shocking his skull and old brown rust ripping up and out long, ghastly red tears across his face's skin, his left eye only just reflexively closing in time to save it from being permanently smashed in and blinded. It would blacken deeply in short time. He fell to the ground and was only given enough time to shakily try to push himself up for a blue foreleg knee caught him the face, breaking his nose, and then straightened out to push him out with enough force to slam him roughly into the opposite wall of the alley, winding him, which was already made worse by the profuse bleeding from his gums.

"Maybe later, sir," Cloud Duster breathed monotonously, carefully unwrapping the bloodied chain from his wrist. "Maybe later."

The younger stallion bent slow to quickly snatch Silver Wind's scarf from him before it could become too thoroughly soaked with blood. He used the cleanest end to meticulously clean away the little splatters that had backfired on him, licking his hoof to rub away any stains that might be in his coat much as he would wash up in the morning, seemingly ignorant of Silver's coughs and trembling moans. He wipe down the chain a little too. Once through with clearing the immediate evidence of his assault, he tossed the scarf back over the prefect pegasus' face. "I told you, I've got more important plans to take care of."

Now hurrying so as to catch up with Willow and Pansy, Cloud Duster quickly fixed back the chain and lock on the door before sniffing, ruffling his feathers a bit at the chill, and turning out onto the street to head toward the square he'd instructed the two of them to go. He left Silver Wind there. He wasn't worry about him snitching about the true circumstances of his injuries. It was as Pansy said: No weakness. No loss of control. Silver Wind was just as conditioned as any of them, even with his current state, he wouldn't dare publicly admit to such a loss of control over an inferior. Cloud Duster didn't care, he was fine with lies.

He was always fine with lies.

Rache took stock of the primitive map. While it lacked important details, it did serve to outline the three territories. It was likely that these three zones had existed for a very long time. Though Caer Gloriana had not been mentioned, the Daemonpony thought it wisest to not inquire about it. He fell back on Willow's stories, and presumed this to be the land where the unicorns reigned.

"Let us hope they are captive or free then," Rache tried to gulp, but his mouth had gone dry at the prospect of Hans' beautiful Chrys swinging from a noose. Would people transform back into their human forms once they died? Did the Earth ponies now have strange bodies to explain away?

Frustrated by the thought, he closed his wings and swooped lower through the swirling snow, bending his mind this way and that. Chaos had no presence here. Not his own brand of power. The energy fields were terribly weak. He thought perhaps he had sensed them, this way and that, but his mind carried too many doubts. There wasn't any sense in straining himself, however. Not now. The Lieutenant had a good point: weather was the enemy tonight.

Nopony has ever gone to war. Balls. Cynisca was welcome to disown his sorry ass. If the Earth ponies had harmed the Residents, there would be a Rache Smackdown Festival of epic proportions.

This thought, and the wind, buoyed him higher once more. Rache rejoined the other Pegasi. "I won't risk your lives any further this night, Lieutenant. Let's return home. I'll set out at first light, if the blizzard has passed."

[Giovenith]

Yuna and Aegis

Smart Cookie shook her head. "It's got nothing to do with you two. If I know the ponies here, they've probably already forgotten all about you two, 'cept Sundae of course. This has been an issue long before either of you two arrived, and long before this blizzard even started to plague us." She narrowed her eyes and gently tapped Yuna's nose and mouth. "And you have got to be more careful about what you say, girl. Ya almost blew yerself up with overreacting to "filly" back there, how'er ponies gonna react if you start talking aloud about having had wings?"

The green-haired pony took a moment to close her eyes, press a hoof into her face, and sigh. She wasn't angry with Aegis or Yuna, but she was beyond confused and frustrated with her own circumstances, and more than a little skeptical of her own reasoning behind why she was buying into the idea that these two ponies actually were 'inter-dimensional beings' and not just too folks who went crazy from living alone in the woods for so long. Inter-dimensional travel was, she knew, a serious theory - as the Chancellor had commented on before, not far from here the unicorns had a dumping ground for all their old and outdated books and papers, as scribes were constantly reprinting shiner, fancier, more calligraphic editions, and the privileged ponies of the mountains knew little else to do with their old copies other than carelessly toss them out the window. Smart Cookie had habit of picking them up and exploring what they said. She learned a lot, including the research Clover the Clever had told to Brit and Chrys yonder off, but had little reason otherwise to assume any of it was actually true. Could Yuna and Aegis be from another dimension? Sure. Did she have any reason to believe so beyond a yet undemonstrated theory in some books she'd found? No, not really.

The most Smart Cookie had were her instincts. The secretary had, all her life, been a good judge of character, and a pony quick to spot out lies or confusion. In the pit of her gut, she felt the two were telling the truth and knew what they were talking about, but that didn't stop her intellect from screaming otherwise.

If anything, the best reason for going along with their claims was the simple desire to protect. Crazy, inter-dimensional beings, whatever, Cookie still wasn't keen on seeing them make spectacles of themselves and suffering. She valued the truth, but she would rather play along with a delusion to protect a life than anypony beneath the wagon wheel. Whatever the truth she had to continue helping and see them through to the end of whatever life's quest they were currently on.

But it was stressful. Damn, it was stressful. Cookie already had so much to juggle: Keeping the Chancellor sane, keep the townponies sane, making sure nopony lynched in the night when the government wasn't awake, keeping track of food and trade, and of course, managing the dead. That was the worst. The ground outside their cultivated little areas was frozen solid, there were no burying corpses as long as this blizzard raged. The dead had to be carried far, far out into the wilderness and stacked carefully, for all the obvious reasons.

"Nope, nope, nope," the Chancellor shook her head to each 'nope' some paces ahead of the others. "It must be done soon, once all the foals are tucked in for sleep! I'm sure ponies already no longer suspect you, and there are important things to be discussed!"

Cookie slowly dragged her hoof down across her face and briefly glared daggers at her boss's back. Between dealing between Sundae, two possibly crazy/possibly alien ponies, the Chancellor, and all the other crap this blizzard was throwing, she really, really just wanted this day to be over. But no, it couldn't be, of course not.

"I will be notifying a few neighbors, you prepare the hall," Chancellor Puddinghead demanded before running off, leaving the three behind.

Cookie winced and paused for a long while before asking Yuna and Aegis, rather randomly: "Are you two hungry?"


Brit and Chrys

Briefly turning from Chrys, Clover approached Brit to put a hoof on her shoulder. "I assure you, though the princess can be... just-so, she is not malevolent. Let's not avoid trouble, go to her, and be back in a jiff. It won't take long..."

However, the apprentice leaned in and took on a more critical expression: "... but keep your chalk close."

There were suspicions afoot.

Rache and Willow

The team soon returned Rache back to the city, all the while reminding the disguised daemon of his options in the matter.

"If you go down to either of those places tomorrow, take this," Aurora Mist pulled a small simple necklace from her satchel, some carved wood on a string. "Back before the blizzard, traders and weather patrols used this to go into Groundtown and walk free of assault, as it indicates that you were there on business. It is still considered valid even now, but just barely, you must still be careful. Preferably if you go down, you should ask for assistance from one of us."

With that, the Lieutenant dismissed the daemon and one of the team members, the later following to show him the way to the home of Cloud Duster. On the way they happened to run into the three young adults though, which prompted the team member to leave Rache to them, saying good-byes before flying off.

"Rache!" Willow greeted, waving an arm. "You're back! Did you find anything?"

[Saleon]

LOBBY

(snip)

"Of course you will," Dora said crisply, having dropped her arms to step in front of Enali. The dark gray fabric of the sports bra (what other color would any self-respecting Conservator, former or not, have worn?) hid everything, and she straightened up, ignoring any further reactions about her appearance.

The other woman in the orange uniform, clearly unnerved, had reared back into the furniture, and now the ex-priestess fell back on what she knew.

"I enjoy my poisons, I must say," she drawled casually as her hand emerged from the armband iPod holster. Not with a music player, but with the enchanted cigarette lighter she never went anywhere without. Flicking it for the cigarette to materialize from thin air, she caught it casually and lit up. "Though mine are a bit less malicious and a lot more relaxing - this, or some alcohol. Perhaps you'd like some, any of you? I would like to stop by my apartment at some point to change, and you could get refreshments there. Not tainted, trust me."

Her gray eyes turned to Astra as she said this. "Volker's a good sort, so are most of the cultists, generally speaking. You'll see as you go along. They've got a bit of a bad name, but that's deceiving. Trust me - my Sister shares rooms with one. But I'm sure you all have questions, old and new alike. And oh please, don't call me madam. I may be old, but I'm going to deny that until I actually look the part."

Astra looked up to see a lady in gray come to meet her. It was quite obvious she had made a scene, so other people being concerned was not out of the question. The girl seemed quite oddly dressed. It was nothing she had ever seen. She was more in awe over the whole situation, almost speechless.

It took a moment to collect her thoughts. She was almost going to say something, when the cultist continued.

LOBBY
Volker smoothed his grey woolen nazi uniform before curling a hand to stifle a short cough. The droid's title of address for Dora was a good enough clue for the front desk cultist. He had no intention of prying Septimus away from whatever mourning process he currently endured, however. Sometimes a man needed to strip off his mantel for his own sake. "Right, Opa. Confederation? You seem too high tech for Torsiedelle. My guess would be the cyborgs. Brother Itum of Agymnum, no doubt, though he's indisposed right now. We'll leave a message for him, and leave it at that."

Now on to bigger fish. His blue eyes twinkled as he regarded the panicked Astra.

"Good evening, to be exact," he pointed towards the front windows where the darkness of night cloaked the view. "I am Volker, and I run the front desk here at Demens' Towers. You are here because this is where you are called to be. It's a rare honor, madam. Each of us was called, through one means or another."

He folded his hands in front of his belly and offered a warm smile to the woman. "It's very confusing, we know. Do not be afraid. Whatever gods you call your own - they have not abandoned you. You are simply chosen above the rest of your people. For what reason? I can not say. It's not my place to second-guess Demens. I also don't know what the future holds. The present, however, isn't too bad. You're among friends here in the Building. It is your sanctuary, a place of refuge, a place to refresh and renew."

The cultist also came to console her, rather than attack her. She'd dealt with a number of cultists, so this was out of the realm of what she had expected. She mumbled impatiently to herself, "I only came to look for my partner... I never asked for refuge. She disappeared." She stood up, tidied off the dust on her shirt.

"So let's say that entertain this idea that I was not kidnapped, but transported here," she shuffled, "where in the world is this hotel? Mr. Demens has to exist somewhere. Brigheim? Andersaund? maybe, Deneistelt?"

[Cerillium]

LOBBY

"Apartment Building, not a hotel," Volker smiled. "We're all Residents here."

He gestured towards the main entrance. "You'll find you already have a mailbox in the foyer, though the mail has been delayed now that we've arrived in this dimension. And this dimension is far apart from the one you come from. Demens is a sort of god here, considering he created it. He's technically a Greater Being, which is a bit higher up on the power scale. At least, this is what we suspect. None of this has been confirmed yet."

The former nazi held up a yellow legal pad. "I'm aware of everyone that enters the Building. No one has come from your dimension except you. If your partner is here, she's elsewhere. We know very little about the world outside the front doors. We only arrived recently and-"

A tremendous squawk announced the arrival of a bright yellow parakeet. It appeared out of thin air to land on the pad. Volker regarded it coolly, wondering what on Gallimaufry the Building's Manager was bitching about now. The bird tweeted and deposited a large, watery turd onto the paper, and then exploded with enough force to coat cultist and Residents with tiny yellow feathers.

Volker glanced at the now-dry shit and grunted. "Ah, Mr. Opa? Apparently there was a mistake. You're assigned private quarters in the Maintenance hall. It's where all the non-humanoid machines live. Take that door marked Maintenance. There's a freight lift in that hall, and you can access the lower level through it if you're not too keen on stairs." He tapped the pad to knock away remaining feathers. "Of course, you have the option to request transfer to your previously assigned apartment. You have rights, you know."

His eyes drifted towards the aforementioned door. "And if you decide to go with the garden level apartment, tell FUBAR to fuck off and let you by. You can't miss him. Massive Drone armed beyond belief."



LOYALTY III

Building

To say the situation was tense would have been an understatement. Like most residents there was only so much Giovenith was in on when it came the de facto leaders and larger organizations that revolved around the Building. While she did more than her fair share when it came to emergencies and management, she was still largely on the innocent, receiving end of much of the upper politics, and thus had no way of knowing how she should have possibly reacted to all the implied heavy background information being tossed around.

The biggest revelation there shook her thoroughly. Of course there was the initial shock of the basic revelation, and then the slower, but much deeper and heavier realization of the gaping gateway Thaddeus had opened. If this was true about Marcus, what else didn't she know about him? What happened to her simple understanding of the person she thought she understood and loved because of it? Did this mean she was in love with something that wasn't really there?

No, she banished those thoughts from her mind. No, it didn't mean any of that. Regardless of what she did or didn't know about Marcus' past, they fell in love with each other over what they had experienced in the present, and that couldn't be changed over anything. Whatever the unknown past was, it still wound up leading to the moments that had mattered, and that meant that it had to be good enough for her. Still, it was a scary prospect... she knew things were about to become very, very complicated if she went forward with learning more, but she knew now that this very basic fact was revealed to her, there was no going back to looking at Marcus and acting in the dark. That would be selfish of her. Loving someone meant loving them, and she couldn't deny an intricate part of him for her own sake and still call it love.

Giovenith sniffed and gave a small whimper, wiping away at budding tears with her sleeves and feeling very overwhelmed by all this. From the death scare, to the intense arguing, to the world-shaking revelations, she had already had quite a full day and yet still expected more, but she knew she had no choice but to tread on. For Marcus' sake and her own peace of mind.

"I promise," she sniffed hard, wiping hard at her cheeks.

The abbot grunted as he eased back into his chair. Hands folded and came to rest in his lap. Hawkish eyes bore into Thaddeus.

“I brought Marcus with me when I returned to Vaffelhelm,” Thaddeus began. “This was when Giovenith first met him. He was very young and, as I told Bran, I had recently earned him back.”

“Earned him back from who or what?” Adrastus lifted a brow.

“Are you seriously going to interrupt me every time I make a statement? We’ll be here all day,” the old cyborg growled. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to weave this shit together? Parts come from the past, and parts have not occurred yet because we were in a future time for a while. It’s a nightmare.”

“No, no,” the abbot’s hands waved to ward Thaddeus’ wrath away. “But to earn him back indicates that you had possession of him at some point prior to remov-“

“Oh, shut up and let me tell the story.”

The old abbot had a point however. Thaddeus ran a knuckle over his brow to ease the tensed muscles.

“Marcus’ mother was brought to me on the condition that I be allowed to experiment on her.” The old cyborg’s silvery eyes seemed to momentarily flicker towards Giovenith. “Surely you’re aware that I’m not sunshine and daisies. I’m an indentured assassin. More importantly, I was a prominent virologist. My work allowed us to defeat the Drones. In order to do that, Chaos needed Nifid technology. Its small scale allowed us to penetrate Drone defenses. Marcus’ mother, among a thousand of other Nifid prisoners, was to be sacrificed to that end. However, nobody realized she was pregnant at the time.”

“You experimented on a preg-“

“Fucking shut up already!” Thaddeus’ snarl silenced the old abbot once more. “I’m not that unethical.”

Thaddeus’ lips imparted a heavy sigh as he attempted to recapture his train of thought. Scarred eyelids fell to curtain off the world. “My wife had recently died. I was duped by Chaos into believing they would revive her if I did their bidding. I betrayed them by bailing on their plans once I learned the truth. Fuck the Drones, fuck the Nifid, and fuck Chaos.

“That said, the boy’s mother reminded me of my dead wife. Their shared mannerisms were uncanny. I brought her to my sanctuary until the child was born, and we stayed there a time. I did not count on the Nifid paying a personal visit to exterminate the colony, however. They were displeased that the mother lived. She had been slated to die. Too much was at stake, and they would not risk war with another nation over one woman. We had no choice. We had to return to Chaos or risk the Nifid taking the mother and discovering the boy’s existence. I had grown rather fond of them both, you see.”

“You double-crossed the bloody Nifid?”

Thaddeus’ gaze contained nothing but daggers as he fixed his eyes on the old abbot. “I chose to return to my work, to return to Charumati’s claws provided she keep the boy safe. I did so because I loved Marcus’ mother. She begged me to keep him safe, and offered herself up as a test subject that he might live. That’s hardly a double-cross. The only way to keep him hidden was to claim him as my own, the offspring between my dead wife and I. So his memories were altered to reflect this, and his DNA signature adjusted to cloak his parentage. Shortly afterward, the Nifid sent in one of their project managers to guarantee that everything would progress according to their wants. This is where Rodney Bodkins enters the picture.”

He paused and waited for Adrastus to volunteer more exclamations, but the old abbot had grown silent. Thaddeus shrugged. “I suppose it wasn’t an easy transition for Marcus. My laboratory wasn’t a pleasant place. Chaos-controlled and filled with insanity. His only solace was his Mama Neste, the construct. Bodkins blanked all the constructs’ memories upon his arrival, but she was drawn to Marcus. I insisted he be placed in her care while I worked.”

“You entrusted the boy to a machina mortifero?” Adrastus leaned forward to regard the old cyborg. “We’re talking about that bitch that just died, I presume? Neste?” He growled as Thaddeus nodded in affirmation, and added, “She’s a butcher. Slaughtered hundreds in her colony-“

“Killed insurgents in a witherward before joining their cause,” Thaddeus corrected. “This was one of the reasons she was assigned to me. She also managed to blow up an Agymnum ship. Her history is quite… colorful, especially as it pertains to Brother Itum. And yes, I entrusted the boy to her. I had several valid reasons, but the primary was that Charumati loathed Neste and her exo. It’s hard to be a badass god when butting heads with an Overseer capable of tearing your matrix to shreds. I have never trusted Charumati, and I knew the boy would be safest under Neste’s care.”

A halfhearted smile perched on Thaddeus’ face as he turned to Giovenith. “The constructs are Nulls. Magic doesn’t affect them. Neste wouldn’t back down to physical attacks should Charumati attempt to snatch the boy. The avatar you know as Charumati is weak in our current time period. She has full power in the future, and is prone to cruelty. She was also cunning, and eventually found a way to get her hands on Marcus. He was a useful tool to her. She knew I would stay loyal to keep him safe. She deceived me into thinking Neste had gone rogue, forcing me to drive Neste away. That was when I brought him here, under her insistence. That was when you first met him, Giovenith.”

“Coffee?” The thade returned with a tray in hand.

Grateful for the momentary break, Thaddeus leaned back in his chair and accepted a cup. “I’m sure the both of you have questions? Ask them now before I go any further.”



RACHE AND WILLOW

Rache accepted the talisman without question, though he did offer his gratitude to the Lieutenant. She'd been a good sport in his eyes. Now reunited with Willow, and all the happier for it, he could only speak somewhat cryptically in front of Cloud Duster and the sullen future hero. He waved in greeting and trotted towards the trio.

"Not much," he said once he met up with them. "The weather hinders, of course. I expected Aegis and Chrys to be more... standoutish. I have a general idea of where they might possibly be, but we won't be able to do much with the blizzard standing in the way. Perhaps the four of us could go down tomorrow to look around. The Lieutenant was kind enough to loan me a sort of hall pass," he tapped his chest to indicate where the talisman had been tucked for safekeeping.

He smiled at the two natives. "Let's get out of this cold and get something warm into our bellies. I'd like to hear how it went at the museum."

[Chedastan]

Amanda arrived home to find Sandy's stick propped up below the coat hooks and a note the the kitchen table reading "gone to dinner: thanksgiving feast in dining room". Thanksgiving? Is today Thanksgiving back in the States? Or is this a local thanksgiving holiday? Hm. Dinner with the other Residents would be relaxing after her long day, but having invited a guest in, Amanda was committed to staying home.

She hung a sign on the outside doorknob reading, "Welcome! Please knock.", and slid a wedge in to prop the door open for Romulus. What next? With a snort, she remembered, and unfastened her shoulder holster to hang on one of the coat hooks. Unsure what the General would drink, she instead set out the last of the homemade cookies and pretzel sticks on the coffee table, then laid out a pair of atlases, one open to a world map, and the other to central Philly.

Before going over to the Belas’ apartment, Romulus stopped by at his own apartment in 6D first, to dropped off his bought stuff from Ascalon, and change into something more appropriate for the occasion.

Having found a nice looking officer-looking dress uniform that was in his dresser, the General obviously wore it over his body glove, it feeling much more fitting for tonight. Though of course it wasn’t at the Imperium standards he would had preferred, but it should work well anyway. He kept his sword with him, it being customary for him to bring it with him for such a night, him being an officer. Now standing at the door to 6C, Romulus noticed the sign posted on it, not wanting to be rude, he followed its instruction.

Knock, Knock

[Northwest Slobovia]

Now standing at the door to 6C, Romulus noticed the sign posted on it, not wanting to be rude, he followed its instruction.

Knock, Knock

Amanda opened the door, and found that her guest had arrived. She saw he’d changed out of his armor, and greeted him with a smile. “Please, come in, General. Would you like something to drink?” She gestured for him to come in, directing him over to the living room sofa and chairs.

He smiled back at her. “A drink would be nice, what you got?” He stepped into the apartment, and saw just how different it was to his, while still sorta recognizable to him to what he seen before. It certainly had a foreign sorta taste to it, and certainly wasn’t bombed out as he had known this style more up close. He noticed her gun hung by the door, a sign to him of assured hospitality, at least he hoped it was. Still, he followed that example, and hung his sheathed sword by the gun as he waited for Amanda to reply.

Good, good: he’s not too stiff to drink. “I’ll be drinking whiskey; it’s been a long day. There’s a couple other kinds of spirits -- scotch and rum -- several bottles of wine, including one very exotic one, milk, juices, and some soft drinks.” Amanda ended up looking down at her hands, ticking everything off. Sandy had conjured small amounts of things to drink for just this sort of need for her to entertain in his absence. She glanced back up at Romulus. “There’s also teas and coffee.”

“After what I’ve been through today, some whiskey wouldn’t hurt. And an exotic bottle of wine you say? How exotic we talking here, other than y’know, something not from my dimension?” He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the end of his sentence. Really everything was going to be exotic to him here if that is the case.

Amanda’s smile returned, now with a bit of humor to it. “I’m not sure which dimension you’re from, but the wine is from far in my future, so I’m told. It’s Golden Telanaxis flower wine, and it tastes like nothing else. We think it’s wonderful. I'll bring the bottle out when I get your whiskey.”

Amanda busied herself in the kitchen. The Belas had no liquor cabinet -- there’d never been a need before -- so the hard liquor was stored in a cupboard. The half bottle of wine came out of the refrigerator. Amanda set two tumblers on a tray along with the bottles of whiskey and wine, and brought them over to the coffee table. “Come sit, General.”

He nodded and followed her gesture and took a seat on the sofa, where he saw the food treats and curious looking maps and books on the table.

As he sat down, he reached and held up the map to Earth first and examined it. It was all in font he didn’t recognize, but it looked like the language was very similar enough to Wilhelm Speech that he could read it just fine, whatever it is really printed in. His eyes scanned through it, to him it looked like the map covered about the size of small region, assuming those KMs weren’t deceiving him.

This Russia, China, Canada, and this United States of America seem to be the regional powers here, assuming those bigger names above them are just continent names… He then wondered where she was from on here, and what they knew beyond this region.

“Oh Amanda, there seems to be a lack of any frontiers beyond the large body of water your region is in on this map, was that intentional on the mapmaker's part?” He asked her curiously, and set the map down. He poured himself some whiskey and took it in. The familiarity was nice to him, and he appreciated it.

Amanda poured herself a couple of fingers of whiskey after Romulus set the bottle down, but she gave him a puzzled look when he asked his question. “Frontiers? That map is all there is: the whole planet.”

“Planet, what? So you’re saying your home is... Finite, nothing beyond it on here?” He was puzzled now too, maybe more so than Amanda. Where he lived, the idea of their world being Finite was something of a crackpot ‘theory,’ that’s been disproved even before the Imperium came to be. They knew full well their dimension stretched on to infinity with no endpoint, but could other dimensions be finite then? He guessed so, but he still couldn’t really imagine it.

“Okay you see, where I live, there’s no end on how far you can go if you walked in a straight line and kept going. Because where I’m from, we figured out long ago that we lived on a infinite plane of existence, which is probably our universe too. I honestly can’t imagine what life is like where you’re from, is it really harsh living there? How are resources even being managed, if scarcity is inevitable surely?” He asked her with a worry thought, thinking it must be more hell than usual.

“Resources… managed? Badly, General, badly”, Amanda said with a laugh. “But you live on an endless flat world? Earth is nothing like that. Here, let me show you.” Amanda set down her glass, stood up, and briskly walked over to one of the bookcases lining the opposite wall. She took a bookend from a shelf, tipping the last volume in that row to support the others so they wouldn’t flop over.

She returned to her chair, and offered the bookend to Romulus before sitting back down, smoothing her skirt with one hand as she did so. She pointed out some details of the bookend to Romulus as she described them. “The ball on the rod is Earth. The map you’ve been looking at is just a flat image of what’s printed on the ball: our planet is a sphere. There’s nothing beyond the edges of the flat map; the left and right edges join together about here, in the Pacific Ocean.” She looked him in the eye to judge his response: surprise? Acceptance? Utter incomprehension?

He held the bookend she gave him, and examined it closely with great interest. He was actually marveled by it, as he now has good confirmation that such a world was even possible. Though of course it wasn’t really that hard to believe really, he seen many more stranger things than this in his time, in fact this something of a mundane discovery if anything. He put the book down on the table, and poured some more whiskey into his glass, and took a swig from it. He looked down on the map again, and pointed his finger at it, specifically at the countries.

“So which of these provinces, states or whatever are you from on here? And how’s life in them anyway?” He asked her before taking another swig.

Acceptance: so he’s more broad-minded than I thought. I’ll have to keep that in mind. Amanda sipped her whiskey, then answered matter of factly, tapping the map with a finger to indicate details. “Nations. Each of the major divisions on this map is a sovereign nation. We’re from this one, the United States of America. It’s a federal nation, so there are political units within it called states. We’re from this city here, Philadelphia, in Pennsylvania. It’s a major city: if you include its suburbs, Philly’s population is well over five million.”

Amanda slid the other atlas lying open on the table over a bit. “This map is central Philadelphia. We used to live right here, in an apartment identical to this one.” She pointed out a street a little north of University City.

Amanda then leaned back and looked up at Romulus’ face, shaking her head slowly. “But I don’t know how to answer your last question. The Earth has six billion inhabitants in over a hundred countries: that’s a lot to try to explain. But let me try something. Excuse me for a moment, please.”

Amanda disappeared into the bedroom and returned with her laptop, pulling the door shut behind her. She brought up a web browser and pointed it to a local site, then put the laptop on the table so the general could see it. “This is an electronic textbook Sandy and his colleagues use to teach American history. It uses Philadelphia as an example American city. I’ve got it open to the last chapter, on contemporary history. This photo is downtown. This building here is this one on the map.” Amanda pointed out a number of the tall buildings one by one, including City Hall. “Skim it if you’d like. The photographs will probably say more than I can, and the bits of text you catch will fill out the details.” Amanda picked up a cookie and nibbled at it while her guest read the e-textbook.

[OOC: Romy appears courtesy of the department of keeping the scene moving.]

[The BranRiech]

"Of course you will,"

Oh shit.

Drova blushed. Had his bluff been called by the woman? While he didn't much care, considering he didn't really know her past how she felt colliding with him when running. Or were Dora's words meant for someone else? In a perfect scenario, he'd be able to tell without asking, but the woman organizing the impromptu tour of the apartment was an enigma to him. She didn't seem very conventional, especially in her dress at least.

"Well, actually. I might head back to the feast." He scratched at his hair, shoulders relaxing, as his hands lowered slickly into his pockets. Anyone with half an ounce of social skills could tell that the Prince was trying to keep his cool, but Drova thought it was convincing enough.

"Yeah. I'll actually go back." He muttered.

At least back in the dining room was a chance to be around people he knew, considering the teen-club seemed to have fallen apart. Torii being . . . Well, Torii, Marcus hurt, Gio going to see him, and Kale nowhere to be found. And where was Yuna? He could have sworn the shrill voice of his sister was present during the feast earlier, but had she gone off to explore?

She sure as hell wasn't in the dining room. That much was sure as he made his way back in, noting the conversations as he decided whether or not he'd wish to join in.

--

Nothing to do with them?

It was a relief, but a pretty darned small one. The last thing they needed was more attention drawn to themselves, though possessing the rather unique title of "Interdimensional-travelers" didn't lend well to that fact, but it was an easy title to hide. Though Yuna was beginning to see a problem. The more they laid-low, and kept to themselves, the less likely it seemed that they'd end up either finding a way back home, or finding their friends.

She turned her head up from staring at the not-so-engaging ground, at the warning from Cookie.

"Oh . . . Yeah. I, well . . . Sorry." She put her head back down, trotting along back towards the town.

She looked for Aegis, at least for maybe a comforting look? She knew the chances weren't high for one of those though. Comfort (Indeed, all things positive and nice) seemed to be in serious lacking in the world they were whipped off to, at least besides the names of everyone they met. They were all cheeky and lovable, almost too cutesy for even Yuna's taste, someone who could (Famously for a Pyersai) find almost anything cute.

"Hungry? I suppose. I ate before we came here." She lowered her voice. Her new form seemed to take more energy to move around with though, and she already felt her stomach growling for sustinence. Again, just another feeling she wouldn't get used to. "But yeah, I'm hungry."

[Tiltjuice]

"If you see rabbit - eat it," Dora snarked to Drova's departing back, and turned to the others. Opa had a unique way of speaking, but that wasn't necessarily bad. Actually, she thought he was rather interesting, as far as desire for peace, even if his way of ensuring it was heavy-handed.

"I'm not familiar with any of those places," she admitted to Astra. "This is North Warnborough, if that proves familiar. As Volker says - " she winced visibly at the explosion " - we arrived not long ago." She blew a smoke ring in the direction Drova had gone.

"Come," she continued, casually. "I've had enough of the chill. Opa, join us if you like. I'll need to stop by my apartment, and then we can begin the tour."

Without further ado, she led the group up the back staircase. 2E was not so far away, and with characteristic quickness she was in and out, having thrown on one of Luce's dress shirts. It might have raised some eyebrows, but he was an old soul, patient and dignified in most things. Even when she wore shirts fresh from the wash right after coming back from exercising.

"Everything exciting for now is on the 6th floor and up," she confided as she guided them to the elevator. "Most of the lower floors' rooms are for Residents who have been here longer, but they're largely busy at the Time, I understand. There is a hospital on the 5th floor, but we can visit that last. I'm sure that's what everyone hopes for, any case."

Both the cheery ding and the motion of the elevator doors helped to calm the skittish woman, Dora hoped, as they all ascended. The walls seemed to grow out to accommodate Opa a bit. Another ding sounded announcing the lift car's arrival on the 6th floor, and lo and behold, a Welcome sign came into view. Furrowing a coppery brow, Dora rapped once on the ajar door and poked her head in.

"Hello?" she called.

[Tiltjuice]

Brit and Chrys

"Ark?" Chrys blinked instinctively as Clover tapped on the sides of her head. Her eyes lightened fractionally and nearly invisibly by reflex, and then the other unicorn's words came to her. What was she best at? Well, the answer came a bit clearer to her with Clover's advice. Her wings rustled somewhere in the distance, or so it seemed to the concentrating Conservicorn. The silent whisper and metallic clattering of swordplay fired her up; but it carried an energy rather than a peace of mind.

And so the emerald in question shot up on its way to impact the ceiling, until the arrival of the messenger and both Brit and Clover reacted badly to it. Here, too, Chrys felt the point of an icicle scrape down her spine; the emerald dropped just as precipitously as she lost focus on it. This didn't bode well, either, in her opinion. A benefit of being a slave girl in Ancient Rome that she hadn't predicted - being able to see power politics without actually having to deal with them. There was a bit of that scared little girl, even now, but she tried to muster up her spirit. The voice of a long-dead Macedonian lanista resounded in her mind and her shoulder dropped as if under a weight, she knew not why.

Aeì koloiòs parà koloiôi hizánei, the voice growled, and looking once more at Brit, Chrys had to agree. That was the whole reason she'd received her own branding. Her wings fluttered up and then angled sharply, and she gazed at Clover.

"I will go."

[Monfrox]

Brit frowned at Chrys. She felt a bit guilty for making herself out to be inept and didn't think that the girl should have to go in her place. What if something happened to her? She wouldn't be able to take it, really, so she got tough.

"No. I'll do it. She asked for me and if something happened to you, then it'd be on my mind forever. If anything's going to happen, I'll be there. You just go with Clover and make sure Arrow doesn't get her maniacal villain on with that twisted magic."

She took a piece of the chalk and shrouded her head in the cloak Clover let her borrow. In a final act of reassurance, Brit bopped her nose into the side of Chrys' face.

"Don't let me down, chica." She said before she left the room. She then popped back in. "Uhm...which way is the Princess?"

[Mincaldenteans]

Sterling nodded to all of the guild-mates of Anais and the Fae, smiling brightly and widely. "Nice to meet you all!" Then dan spoke to him, so the pony turned his attention to the Fae, keeping his bright and eager expression on his face.

"I'm not sure if we're related to those 'Equines', actually. I'd say no, most likely." Sterling told the Fae, hoping he wasn't too disappointed. "I'm just an unicorn pony, from Equestria. Only species of ponies that I know of are the equestrian races, the zebra, changelings if they'd count, and crystal ponies. None just called Equines! Though, I've also never heard of someplace called the Summerlands. What is that place like?"

The pony asked, tilting his head to one side in confusion and interest. His gold-colored mane fell to that side messing it up, but it wasn't very neat or styled before that anyway. His golden tail swished along the floor, flicking back and forth. Then Sterling thought of another question and spoke again.

"Oh, are Equines as colorful as ponies? I mean, the horses on earth were usually shades of brown, not like purple like I am and such."

“The Summerlands! It’s home from home,” Dan said lightly with a nod, “I’m a being of Summer, a fae. I can’t justify explaining it in words, they seem to lack the true clarity of what it means to be of the Summerland; but it’s a splendid place, peace and tranquility are about the most precise words I can describe it as. We have our fair share of danger however, especially when the borders murk with Winter, our traditional enemies. I’m one of the few that was born in the last thousand years, and now tasked to experience life outside of faerie.”

The fae skipped the exile part, the politics involved and everything else that even he wasn’t privy to nor understood. It nonetheless did not diminish the ache of missing home. Having friends here helped to ease the pang of longing. As for the equine question, Dan made a slight frown, perhaps ‘equine’ was imprecise? He wasn’t entirely sure, but decided to move the topic along rather than assume - he already had and the fae didn’t want to offend for his own ignorance, “We have very few horses in faerie and the ones I’ve heard of are Wild. I’ve never actually seen a horse or pony, just stories told from other sidhe, legends and myths of times long gone. The horses in fae were told to be either white or black, it wasn’t so much their appearance - as they could change into other things - as it was their intentions. I suppose they were tricky,” Dan trailed off on that.

“And what of you? Does being a unicorn pony symbolize anything among other ponies? Unicorns aren’t known in faerie, but as stories go for fae horses they did have a horn... or horns - depending who tells the story. And like most fae, it usually entails some kind of magical property - the being, not just the horn, I mean. Sorry if I’m babbling, by the way.”

Dining Room
“A pleasure to meet all of you.” Primordial said refilling his own glass and offering the assembled people a glass. The liquor was a strong smelling stuff that was labelled wine but seemed to be more like vodka than anything else and it was obviously one of those unique Luxan blends. Primordial had been drinking quite heavily but it didn’t show in his actions since his natural resistance held off any negative effects.

“I must say Erick, I really appreciate your attire. Very aesthetically appealing.” He said commenting the guild member. He thought the get up had a very classical style which he enjoyed in magicians and hoped it was an indication of their attitude towards sorcerery. He was dressed in his own mixture of victorian formal wear and bondage gear that meshed in a strange Luxan style. He had a set of robes however similar to what Erick was wearing but usually reserved them for certain types of rituals.

He noticed Reyna’s gaze but ignored it figuring that acknowledging it would be awkward. He was used to people being wary of him by this point in the day. Instead he tried to relax his posture and show that he was in a friendly and talkative mood hoping that if she had any questions she would ask.

He went on to answer Alexia and Cherry’s question “Oh nothing is wrong I assure you. We were all discussing ways and means for getting more integration and cooperation between the different magic users in the building. She was very helpful and had some wonderful ideas regarding meetings. In fact I believe Sterling and I will be meeting up tomorrow to send out invitations, which of course will include your own illustrious party if that appeals to you?”

“Thank you, it is a traditional robe and a symbol of my faith,” Erick said with a nod. The Dervish had taken note of the Luxan’s attire; strange but not too dissimilar in its macabre style to those of the Kurzicks if Cherry’s rants of their gaudy dress were anything to go by. The mesmer guildmate was antithetical to her homeland’s fashion; in fact, she seem antithetical to their entire way of living. The dervish could tell by as her face said as much, but one had to be able to see past her charming smile to know she disapproved of the Luxan’s similar sense of dark pageantry.

“I’m sure Anais will catch us up on this; if she had an idea likely worth listening to. I've known Anais for almost eight years, I've never known her to lead me, or us, astray. We’ve quite a few magic users among us, except Reyna, she’s more… hands on,” Cherry said to which the warrior across could only nod stiffly. Her eye had not left the baron, and her concern for the pony was hardly there - for Dan to attend to. Perhaps it was the vibe the baron had that contrasted sharply with the pony.

“Is this more a meeting of the minds?” Alexia asked next and continued, her half bald hair adorned with a traditional monk tattoo glimmered under the light, with a thick braid that curved down and around her neck as she spoke. “We had something similar with the healer’s group - would it be along those lines?”

"Would other non-magic users be included regardless?" Hunter inquired, resting his crossed arms in front of him. "I know this kind of stuff is likely over my head, but would it help to have a few non-magic users there as well to get a better... I dunno, understanding? Maybe just insight? Not the whole building, of course."

"I would certainly appreciate it," Reyna spoke up at last and eyed the Baron as the warrior continued in explanation, "Erick and I fight as a pair; it had taken significant time for me to learn what he intends to do in the middle of the battlefield but it has been a tactical advantage on our part."

[New Aksarben]

Sterling nodded to all of the guild-mates of Anais and the Fae, smiling brightly and widely. "Nice to meet you all!" Then dan spoke to him, so the pony turned his attention to the Fae, keeping his bright and eager expression on his face.

"I'm not sure if we're related to those 'Equines', actually. I'd say no, most likely." Sterling told the Fae, hoping he wasn't too disappointed. "I'm just an unicorn pony, from Equestria. Only species of ponies that I know of are the equestrian races, the zebra, changelings if they'd count, and crystal ponies. None just called Equines! Though, I've also never heard of someplace called the Summerlands. What is that place like?"

The pony asked, tilting his head to one side in confusion and interest. His gold-colored mane fell to that side messing it up, but it wasn't very neat or styled before that anyway. His golden tail swished along the floor, flicking back and forth. Then Sterling thought of another question and spoke again.

"Oh, are Equines as colorful as ponies? I mean, the horses on earth were usually shades of brown, not like purple like I am and such."

“The Summerlands! It’s home from home,” Dan said lightly with a nod, “I’m a being of Summer, a fae. I can’t justify explaining it in words, they seem to lack the true clarity of what it means to be of the Summerland; but it’s a splendid place, peace and tranquility are about the most precise words I can describe it as. We have our fair share of danger however, especially when the borders murk with Winter, our traditional enemies. I’m one of the few that was born in the last thousand years, and now tasked to experience life outside of faerie.”

The fae skipped the exile part, the politics involved and everything else that even he wasn’t privy to nor understood. It nonetheless did not diminish the ache of missing home. Having friends here helped to ease the pang of longing. As for the equine question, Dan made a slight frown, perhaps ‘equine’ was imprecise? He wasn’t entirely sure, but decided to move the topic along rather than assume - he already had and the fae didn’t want to offend for his own ignorance, “We have very few horses in faerie and the ones I’ve heard of are Wild. I’ve never actually seen a horse or pony, just stories told from other sidhe, legends and myths of times long gone. The horses in fae were told to be either white or black, it wasn’t so much their appearance - as they could change into other things - as it was their intentions. I suppose they were tricky,” Dan trailed off on that.

“And what of you? Does being a unicorn pony symbolize anything among other ponies? Unicorns aren’t known in faerie, but as stories go for fae horses they did have a horn... or horns - depending who tells the story. And like most fae, it usually entails some kind of magical property - the being, not just the horn, I mean. Sorry if I’m babbling, by the way.”

The Fae sure could talk quickly, and ask a lot of things. But then again Sterling did the same, and was quite excited to talk to someone interested in learning about his people and culture! It was always so much fun doing that, just discussing history, culture, things of that nature. The pony adjusted in his seat, then used a bit of magic to adjust his glasses on his snout. Like all the times he used his magic, the pony's horn lit up in a bright blue aura, the same color as his eyes, and so did the object he was focusing on. The action would slightly answer the Fae's question about what being a unicorn meant, but would need further clarification.

"Never seen a Equine before? That's quite interesting, I was led to believe Equine beings, though not intelligent ones, were common on Earth. I'm guessing these Summerlands aren't part of Earth itself? Similar to Equestria. Equines on my world come in a rainbow of colors, from a purple like myself," He stopped to lift a hoof and press it against his own chest, patting it and the coat being left slightly ruffled and unkempt as he moved his hoof back to his normal sitting position, "to gray like my friend Willow Streaks, and everything between and besides. The shades also range from pastels to vibrant and rich, depending on heritage. Though that's probably enough about pony fur coloring.

"Unicorn are the most magical of the three races of ponies. At least in terms of manipulation of raw magic such as I've done since I've gotten here. The unicorn's horn is sort of like our focusing point. Being connected directly to our brains and all, it means we can manipulate magic to an incredibly fine degree, It amazes me what some unicorns can accomplish, even summoning things like Ursa Major from halfway across a continent! The Pegasi and Earth Ponies are very magical too, though less overtly so.

"Unicorns, back when the races lived separately, looked into if the other races were magical nad realized its the Pegasi magic which helps allow flight, and manipulation of clouds, and all sorts of weather related magic. But it expresses itself through their wings primarily, and hooves slightly, which explains their ability to walk on clouds.

"By contrast, Earth ponies are absolutely exceptionally strong compared to the other races, and ingenious. Plenty of the modern inventions come from Earth ponies, where they dream up ways to do what the other races can do naturally. I've seen an earth pony make something similar to helicopters that I've heard of humans possessing, just to talk with her Pegasi friend while she was in the sky. Not only that, Earth ponies can grow food and plants amazingly, unlike the other races who struggle by comparison. The soil just speaks to them, or something. Its quite amazing!"

The Pony paused, realizing he was starting to get a bit lengthy when it came to his explanation. He chuckled, and then nodded. "Oh, and no problem if you babble, I do the same thing myself!"

[Primordial Luxa]

Earth Pony Village
Yuna would only find a hard and disappointed stare when she looked at Aegis since it was obvious that he noticed her slip up. His expression was stern but he allowed it to soften as Smart Cookie spoke. He wasn't in a mood or a position to be overly critical, but if someone else in the room had hear Yuna the too of them might have been fighting for their life right now.

“Listen Smart Cookie” he said sympathetically walking over to speak more privately with her. He could tell there were small traces of doubt in her face and he knew he would have a vast amount of hesitation if he was in her position right now. “I know we seem strange and odd. But you have no idea how much we appreciate your help. We understand you’re sticking your neck out for us and that you’re taking a lot of risks and we sincerely thank you for that. But I want to promise you that we mean you and your people no harm whatsoever all we want is to get back to where we came from. We are willing to help you and your people in any and every way we can until we leave because of your generosity. You truly are a credit to your village and we won’t soon forget how much you have given us here.”

“And I’m famished” Aegis said. “Thank you.”

Primordial and the guild

“I imagine it will be similar to the healer meeting. Although I just heard a cliff notes version from my friend Insidious. I suspect that most of it will be meeting each other and figuring out exactly what everybody wants to get done.” Primordial said.

He was beginning to grow a little bit tense being at the center of so much attention all of a sudden. He knew he didn’t have any reason to be but their was strange anxiety which had overtaken him recently. The drink in his hand helped, but he still wondered why he was so stressed when he dealt with situations like this all the time.

“Unlike the healer group which has a more defined roles, I suspect this group will start being less focused. Magic has so many uses and varieties some people will certainly want to do all sort of different things.” He continued “So our meeting will probably focus on narrowing our initial focus but I can’t say for certain. It’ll be more of a brainstorming session than anything else so really we could talk about anything but that's just my assumption.”

He maintained his pleasant expression while slowly working on the glass but he secretly felt the growth of envy at this group. They reminded him of Insidious, Aegis and himself when they had started their explorations and discoveries and so their was a mixture of melancholy in his heart when he looked at how connected they seemed to be. He wondered what was going on between his friends, that had drive them so far apart. Then he remembered that it was getting tortured by a malign alien deity.

“I suppose we could fit in a couple of people unfamiliar with the arcane.” The Baron said replying to Hunter and Reyna “Although I worry about finding a space big enough to hold this meeting and making sure it isn’t too chaotic. We don’t have a list yet but I imagine given the nature of the build once we start we will find quite a large number of people to invite. But still you bring up a very good point regarding outside insight. I’ll make sure that we have seats for all of you that want them.”

[Saleon]

LOBBY

"Apartment Building, not a hotel," Volker smiled. "We're all Residents here."

He gestured towards the main entrance. "You'll find you already have a mailbox in the foyer, though the mail has been delayed now that we've arrived in this dimension. And this dimension is far apart from the one you come from. Demens is a sort of god here, considering he created it. He's technically a Greater Being, which is a bit higher up on the power scale. At least, this is what we suspect. None of this has been confirmed yet."

The former nazi held up a yellow legal pad. "I'm aware of everyone that enters the Building. No one has come from your dimension except you. If your partner is here, she's elsewhere. We know very little about the world outside the front doors. We only arrived recently and-"

A tremendous squawk announced the arrival of a bright yellow parakeet. It appeared out of thin air to land on the pad. Volker regarded it coolly, wondering what on Gallimaufry the Building's Manager was bitching about now. The bird tweeted and deposited a large, watery turd onto the paper, and then exploded with enough force to coat cultist and Residents with tiny yellow feathers.

Astra was slightly disappointed to hear no word of her partner. She had known she wasn't here--seemed too fortunate-- but, while disheartening, She decided she wouldn't give up. She was unable, really, of giving up after finding out what she has. Her partner could be in the gates of the underworld-- wandering and hiding, frightened and scared-- avoiding the creatures of the night.

She was keeping eyes on Volker, when a bird came in. It was yellow, and seemed to be here to deliver something. That something came to be ****. The bird seemingly did not care about Mr. Vo-- BOOM... The bird burst into a set of feathers. Astra was in the direct line of fire with yellow feathers of a recently deceased bird. "... That was a bird..." she emoted, "Why does your mail delivery service burst into feathers upon completion?" She would not have expected that. Even magical scholars had not pulled such an odd prank, at least so the rumors told.

Most... cultists... would not try to get covered in feathers... nor would any serious cultists do such pranks on each other... or so she would assume. "Would you have an idea where somebody would be if they, well, went out of their world?" She inquired. After hearing the answer, she makes her way with the mysterious girl, Dora.

"If you see rabbit - eat it," Dora snarked to Drova's departing back, and turned to the others. Opa had a unique way of speaking, but that wasn't necessarily bad. Actually, she thought he was rather interesting, as far as desire for peace, even if his way of ensuring it was heavy-handed.

"I'm not familiar with any of those places," she admitted to Astra. "This is North Warnborough, if that proves familiar. As Volker says - " she winced visibly at the explosion " - we arrived not long ago." She blew a smoke ring in the direction Drova had gone.

"Come," she continued, casually. "I've had enough of the chill. Opa, join us if you like. I'll need to stop by my apartment, and then we can begin the tour."

Without further ado, she led the group up the back staircase. 2E was not so far away, and with characteristic quickness she was in and out, having thrown on one of Luce's dress shirts. It might have raised some eyebrows, but he was an old soul, patient and dignified in most things. Even when she wore shirts fresh from the wash right after coming back from exercising.

"Everything exciting for now is on the 6th floor and up," she confided as she guided them to the elevator. "Most of the lower floors' rooms are for Residents who have been here longer, but they're largely busy at the Time, I understand. There is a hospital on the 5th floor, but we can visit that last. I'm sure that's what everyone hopes for, any case."

Both the cheery ding and the motion of the elevator doors helped to calm the skittish woman, Dora hoped, as they all ascended. The walls seemed to grow out to accommodate Opa a bit. Another ding sounded announcing the lift car's arrival on the 6th floor, and lo and behold, a Welcome sign came into view. Furrowing a coppery brow, Dora rapped once on the ajar door and poked her head in.

"Hello?" she called.

She grasps her lantern, keeping the light shielded and turned off, and checking her affects. She had everything with her, for being kidnapped/invited to this cultist hideout/apartment, these people had not even made sure to disarm her. She wiped off the feathers from herself, quite sure some would still be on her for the rest of the day. She followed the odd lady, having done all she needed done, and rushed into the elevator. The place did not get any more sane than when she came in. Everything about this was odd, unsettling, and nonsensical. news-ridden death birds, cultist attendants, and how she didn't even know how she got here.

"So, how did you... get here? Do you not know? Did you see how I got here?" she questioned, still wrapping her head around all of this, "... am I asking too many questions? ah... that was another question. If I was, then I just went one over... testing my luck, apparently."

[Giovenith]

Building

As Giovenith listened to Thaddeus' story, she kept her eyes down on her lap but her ears open, occasionally giving a brief sniff and quick wipe of one of her eyes as she took in the highly twisted chain of events that lead to her meeting the person she knew as Marcus. She would have never been able to predict or guess at any of this, and thus tried to reassure herself that there was no reason to condemn herself as a bad girlfriend because of her ignorance. It was as the cyborg had said, Marcus wasn't supposed to tell her any of this (though she did not know what he might have said had they had the opportunity to have their own talk), and if the story here was true it was for good enough reason.

The whole thing shed a lot of light. Not just on Marcus and his family, but on the degree to just how much benevolent disregard Giovenith and many of the other residents were given on a daily basis. Despite his position in the power play between many different cold factions, Giovenith had never been swatted or shooed away for her and others' gallivanting about with Marcus, no fear that they were causing any influence or harm over the various plans. They were only children, after all. But not forever.

"What about when he's all grown up?" she asked, lifting her head. "He's gotta go do his own stuff someday, he can't stay in that situation forever. We have plans."

Rache and Willow

"Museum was terrible," Willow explained as the four of them were lead to a small neighborhood near one of the city edges. "You know what we found when we got there? Boxes! Like literally boxes filled with all their artifacts and stuff! I've seen attics more organized. We looked a little but no dice, so we might have to check that again tomorrow as well."

At least they arrived at a cloud home, Cloud Duster unlocking the door to lead them in a fairly spacious living area. There were several hallways openings off to the side, and the whole place was nicely lit and furnished but dead quiet.

"Oh my jeeze, your house is so big," Pansy remarked, removing her helmet to finally let her long orangish hair breathe.

"I had a big family," Cloud Duster closed the door behind everypony and flew ahead to the center of the room.

"Had?" Pansy noted how nopony else had come to greet them, or interrogate their underage son about bringing strangers into the home.

"They're all dead, I get to keep the house anyway."

Pansy grimaced and blinked twice in surprise. "Even your sister?"

Cloud Duster slipped, but just a little. The corners of his mouth twitched just slightly before he smiled once again. "I told you, I don't have a sister..." Spotting Willow's slightly growing concern, he backpedaled and decided to turn around to cut off eye contact with the group. "I had a cousin who was like my sister, she was raised by my mother."

"That's probably who I'm thinking of."

"She was gored up by the ghoulings because I couldn't I get to her in time, unlike you and Willow here."

Boom. Instantly, the room was splattered in painful awkwardness and tension. Pansy felt the burn of a thousand imaginary judgmental eyes on her, and though she intellectually doubted Rache and Willow were passing too much disapproval on her, Cloud Duster's talent of aiming for the throat while simultaneously managing to make somepony else look like the bad guy was not lost on her. This was the second time he'd done it to her, seemingly for the purpose of slapping her away from questions he didn't like. It embarrassed her, but it also aroused distrust. You always got to use ponies' own hearts against them, don't you? she accused in her own head, critically.

This cynical conclusion was lost on Willow, who immediately shifted into doing the right thing of comforting and apologizing. "I'm really sorry to hear about that Cloud Duster, we didn't mean to stir up any bad memories..."

"Aw, it's okay," there were plenty of warm, forgiving smiles for Willow. "You all didn't know any better. I'm going to start on making you all something to eat, okay?" And he trotted off to the left into the opening of a kitchen area.

Once he was gone, Willow gently leaned in by Pansy. "Hey, Pansy? Let's just stop asking him questions, alright? Leave him be."

"But..."

"He's already doing a lot to help us out, he doesn't have to give us his life story too if he doesn't want to."

No, Pansy supposed he didn't, but somehow this was little comfort to her.

In the kitchen, Cloud Duster had a very small, very precious supply of wood. Trees didn't grow on clouds, trips to the ground were rare, and the bark down below itself was becoming hard and harder to break apart. But he had enough to start a fire in a little stove, and the one plus about the heavy amounts of snow outside was that there was plenty to scoop from out the window and create some boiling water. He made the others stay behind as he searched through a pantry area - probably not even trusting them enough to know where he kept what foods - and returned with enough supplies to make a batch of the same mush Star Catcher had provided Rache with before, handing out everypony their own medium-sized bowl.

"SO!" the blue young colt took a polite place on the main couch of the living area, seemingly unaffected by the previous awkwardness of before. "You all seem like intelligent ponies, so I'm curious. What do you make of the whole winter?"

Willow choked a little on the food (which wasn't that good, but he was still starving and not about to reject the generosity). "Oh, well..." He looked toward Rache. "... I guess, it's like, I kind of get why everypony would be upset with each other, but I think that all the tribes have been, probably equally effected by all this, maybe..."


Chrys and Brit

Clover stared and blinked at the telekinetic display, briefly considering something to herself before turning to Brit.

"It should not be hard, she was just down the place you came from," she said. "And I do beg you not to worry, she honestly doesn't bite. Just barks a lot."

The apprentice briefly considered the two and Chrys' desire to go.

"I won't make any decisions for you," she told Chrys with a smile. "But either way, there is something here in the library I'd like to try with you."


Yuna and Aegis

"I believe you," Smart Cookie nodded to Aegis, giving him a companion-like pat on the shoulder. "And hopefully if ya two's guesses are right, you'll be out of here by the night. But come on, let's all just take a moment for refreshments, it's been a long day and it's going to keep being longer."

And that was how they found themselves at a new public towards a more densely packed housing area of the village. It was made of old, crickety wood and was largely empty, but it had a pleasant old smell and was warmer than most the other buildings they'd been to so far. Expertly carved and whittled chairs and tables lined the place, but Cookie chose to lead her two friends to the seats by the main counter. She tapped a hoof against the counter a few times, summoning a new mare probably younger than Yuna, who was a lively magenta color with bright green eyes, and greeted them with enthusiasm yet unmatched in Groundtown.

"Hello Smart Cookie!" she greeted. "I haven't seen you in a while!"

"Hello SkyWishes," the secretary gave a tired but genuine smile. "You guys aren't too hard pressed to have anything to serve, are ya?"

"Never!" the SkyWishes girl instantly drew up menus, before leaning over the desk, looking at Yuna and Aegis, and then politely asking, "Pardon me, but are you those new ponies who came from the forest?"

[Highfort]

Mention of Septimus Itum left Opa's processor churning away. Brother Itum was a disgrace in the Confederation - blacklisted from the government in every sense of the word and forgotten as a public embarrassment. However, Consul Brutus had programmed Brother Itum into the database as a VIP, and thus Opa had no choice but to protect him. No doubt, the Consul had good reasons for doing so, and thus Opa did as he was told.

Perhaps Brother Itum made his home here? Volker's mention of this location as an apartment building seemed to suggest this.

That would explain the cultist's familiarity with the name; if so, the entire Building would have to be defended as would all the Residents. Anyone in contact with him would become an instant liability were they to fall into enemy hands or be wounded and thus vulnerable to enemy machinations. A quick check of the list in his memory banks named several possible terrorist organizations and enemy nations whose current whereabouts were unknown - and thus who might be on this hitherto-unknown world.

Opa would have to be very careful.

The arrival of a curious yellow bird put the android on guard, his plasma rifle's barrel coming up only to be met with a tuft of feathers as the avian seemingly exploded after leaving feces all over the robot's apartment contract. The cultist didn't seem the least bit phased, however, which made Opa suspicious. He recorded this behavior in his memory banks - whoever this man was, he was certainly not a mere doorman or a receptionist. Either that, or explosive birds were uncommonly common on this planet, which was another cause for alarm entirely.

Mention of being reassigned living quarters did little for the android. He was used to charging inside a garage, and so any place with tools and a charging station was fine by him.

"That will be. Satisfactory," mention of FUBAR was added to the memory banks, "I will inform. FUBAR. Of his new. Living arrangements. After the tour. Has concluded."

Heeding Dora's insistence that the tour begin, Opa trudged forward on heavy legs and followed the curious woman and the rest of the newcomers up the stairs, and then into the elevator. He remained silent, taking in all these new developments, his processor humming quietly in the background as the lift ascended. Curiously, he added yet another oddity to his banks - the elevator had appeared far too small for him to fit, yet somehow its surface area had increased when he'd stepped inside. Very, very odd this apartment was. Perhaps it was state-of-the-art? It didn't look very advanced, at any rate, especially given the trashy tenement aesthetic he'd seen in the hallways.

Their arrival on the sixth floor, heralded by a welcome sign, piqued his already-bursting curiosity.

"Sister Dora. Was our arrival. Expected here. Today?" he asked haltingly, turning slightly toward Astra to add, "I arrived here. Due to an. Apparent. Teleporter. Malfunction. Perhaps your own. Teleporter was. Deficient?"

[Imperial--japan]

"Miss Enali, you sign? Then maybe Mr. Drova over there -- he's the dark one with the feathery wings -- maybe he can give you the tour or show you to your apartment. You'll be on the eighth floor. There's a lift. Let's see -- apartment 8F. Miss Astra here is in 8E. That makes you across-the-hall neighbors."

Enali had no complaints over what she had been told, and it seemed she would be able to use her new lodging as an abode as she tried to recollect herself slowly. The building itself didn't seem to shabby, but it certainly beat the tents back in the 'Great Desert' where her clan resides. Taking the pen, she signed her full name on the contract she had been offered by Volker after making sure the terms were up to the snuff she had be informed. Nothing absolutely unreasonable made itself known, so the dark elf would look around to get a good look at the other tenants.

"You are armed. Please present. The Confederation-issue license For. Your knife." Enali looked rather surprised by the hulking mass that demanded her weapon, her clan heirloom. The elf didn't believe that this was part of the arrangement and began to look a bit panicked.

"You have sixty seconds. To comply." Now Enali began to look a bit worried. Tactically speaking, there was no way that she would be able to combat this thing in such close quarters and with so many other tenants around. Getting other tenants injured because some 'Death-Bot' as she liked to describe it to herself, was programmed for some street brand justice would be irresponsible of her. However, what did it matter in the face of handing over her most precious belonging?

"Eh, Opa, nearly everyone is armed here. It's the norm. Dunkelelfen can have her knife." Enali breathed out a sigh of relief at Volker's intervention on the subject. Muttering a small prayer to the dark elves 'god of luck', the elf smiled and nodded her head in thanks to the man with the funny accent. Still, to others she was likely coming across as a woman of little words. Was this a good thing? Perhaps it would be better to seem mysterious than overly ignorant for now. Enali would continue to play the role a while longer before interacting with her new peers.

Then it seemed that some woman, Dora apparently, was offering a tour to the new residents of this establishment, and as harmless enough as it seemed, Enali would follow wordlessly behind. Maintaining a respectful distance. As the elders had taught her: observation, patience, subtlety, and if necessary the occasional flip of the skirt.

[Fvaarniimar]

Opa might be surprised when Rmwtyliin half-consciously moved directly in front of him. Robot or no, his behavior was that of a guard; of course, she would quickly scoot away if discouraged. Meanwhile, her position was fortuitous; she'd missed Dora's name. (Sister was an interesting title, and the Naaliasz - 'sister of nation' - wondered who or what 'Dora' was a sister of... She was more relieved than curious, however.) I can call her something besides madam. I could use her title... Something about how Dora carried herself seemed to call for respect. Yet, if she will not mind, a first-name basis... "My name is Rmwtyliin.  Might I use yours, as you dislike the formal term?

"And, if you have an answer to the question of -" She pointed to Astra as Duncan finished that sentence. "I would like that also." It occurred to her - she did know some things which could help. Facing the woman, she gestured to draw her attention (and resolved to not slack off when it came to names.) "I arrived via a strange conveyance. Currently people seem to come through the lamp -" She pointed at the ground, a gesture which would likely be lost on Astra as the context would not yet be translated. "In the entering room." She shivered, creeped out as the event came to mind. Nevertheless she continued in a hushed voice which Astra might not hear easily. "There was something like honey. It dripped down... And became you."

[Stormwrath]

Apartment 6H

Hmmm, where to place this newly bought sword now inside this sheath? Macy was still in the process of trying to visualize where to mount it, you know, since it was going to be more of a home decoration than an actual weapon. There were a few places that she had in mind: the section of the wall on top of her bed, the section where her study is located, or in the living room above her sofa. Hmmm, perhaps the last option was best for her. With that in mind, she began to get to work.

Now, where did she place her drill? She went to her bedroom to search for it—it should be somewhere in her closet. Opening the closet doors, she realized that it wasn't there at all. Maybe it was in the cabinet above that, so she got the chair from her study and placed it in front of her closet. After all, the dangerous objects are most likely out of the reach of children. She climbed on it and attempted to reach whatever was behind those two little doors. Her hand moved a bit to the left and a bit to the right, and managed to feel something—some kind of plastic casing and a cord of some sorts. Perhaps this was it.

She grabbed it and pulled whatever it was out, and indeed it was her drill. Guess she can go to work on putting up that sword now—the screws and screwdriver were already on the table, as well as the holders that would support the sword.

Heading back to the living room with the drill in hand, she went to the table and placed the drill there. Since she wanted her sword to be mounted to the part of the wall above her sofa, she first needed to position it so that she can start drilling holes into it. It took her a while to make the sword look straight as it was held up horizontally against the wall, but eventually she settled for it. As she picked up the drill, plugged it into a nearby socket and pointed its tip at the wall, she immediately forgot where she was going to puncture. So much for her memory database.

After groaning, she put down the drill again and placed the sword against the wall, again. Hopefully she could remember where to drill this time. She placed the sword back down, and picked up the drill. Pressing the trigger button with her index finger, the drill tip began to spin rapidly and sound with a whirr. Her hands vibrated greatly due to the drill's power, which indicated that she wasn't good at handling power tools. Eventually, she was able to keep her arms steady, and punctured the first hole. The whirring seemed to grow louder as the drill bore into the wall with incredible speed. Once she was done with that she pulled out the drill and bore another hole into the wall. Part 1 of mounting the sword on the wall was complete.

She picked up one of the holders and her screwdriver in one hand, and a screw in the other. She first positioned the holder's orifice over the drill she bore and straightened it out before securing it in place with the screw. Finished! Now to pick up that other screw…

Before she could though, she could feel vibrations quaking on this floor, as if someone had worn boots that had iron anvils taped to the soles. Stomp, stomp, stomp went the tremors. Her table bounced lightly at every stamp from whoever was walking outside. Noticing that her box of screws was bouncing off to the edge of the table, she quickly darted towards the table and caught it. Whew, that was close. Who was that making those tremors?

Closing the box, she placed it at the middle of the table and went to the door, peeking her head out of it to see what was going on. Looking at the residents that seemed to convene at a certain area of the hallway, she called out to them, "Shaking—who was making the shaking?"

[Monfrox]

Brit winked at Chrys.

"I'll be back, or I'll be dead. And I don't plan on dying anytime soon, so see you when I see you."

She trotted off down the hall, being careful to make sure that she could see what was going on if anything. Of course, she was also careful with the chalk, using it sparingly, but effectively. At a certain point, she drew a whole line from one side of the hall to the other and then went on her business. Well, this was certainly a grand mess they got themselves into. Hmm. Brit stopped for a moment and tried to levitate the chalk before continuing.

[Cerillium]

RACHE AND WILLOW

Rache observed the exchange between the three ponies, keeping his tongue at bay while Cloud Duster explained away the empty house and misunderstandings over his sister-cousin. The Daemonpony's eyes remained narrowed in suspicion as they flickered between Pansy and Willow. Perhaps it was natural for ponies to be gullible? Perhaps he had better clarity because of his species? Regardless, Rache was quickly beginning to despise the annoying, upbeat shit and his perma-grin. He didn't seem to be a pony at all. In fact, the Daemon wondered if the unnaturally calm creature was actually something quite different. Possessed? Perhaps. He was certainly up to no good. The amount of energy expended by him as he attempted to stay several steps ahead of the other ponies was unnerving.

The nasty verbal smack didn't go unnoticed. Rachel pondered the strange dynamic between Pansy and Cloud Duster during the uncomfortable silence following the volley. He continued to hold his tongue during Cloud Duster's absence. There wasn't any way to broach the subject with Willow, not with Pansy standing there.

Rache didn't touch his mush. Fuck that. A bit of Hans' natural paranoia tickled his mind's fringes. For all he knew Cloud Duster was manically insane and bent on poisoning them all. He adopted a polite expression to rival Cloud Duster's own.

"What do I make of the whole winter?" Rache rubbed behind his ear in a sheepish manner before blinking at Cloud Duster. "Well sir, I think it's damn unnatural, since you asked." The reply was entirely too upbeat for Rache's character, something he hoped Willow would pick up on though they hadn't known each other long. He snorted. "Yes, damn unnatural. But isn't that just how some things are? Everypony thinks they have a grasp on it. They go about their day never suspecting that something isn't what it seems on the surface."

He met Cloud Duster's gaze. Though Rache's face radiated typical pony cheerfulness, the humor didn't touch his eyes. These remained Daemon-cold wells capable of whispering terrible things. The truth of the matter was very clear: Rache had decided to push the calculating little pony in order to sample his emotions.

"The problem with unnatural things is that somepony eventually catches on. They notice patterns and behaviors. A cloud doesn't drift right. The wind's howl just doesn't match its strength." Simpering smile fading away, Rache snorted again. "I'm not fooled. Are you, Cloud Duster? What do you make of it?"

[Giovenith]

Rache and Willow

"I absolutely agree, Rache; I think the unicorns did it."

The answer came without hesitation or pause for consideration, though not because it was an asspull, it came with the speed and weight of personal certainty. His dark violet eyes didn't quiver or flinch despite Rache's hard gaze, only breaking look to calmly blow off his bowl and take a sip, not a single fidget or nervous tick visible on his person. His bold answer quickly drew Willow's attention though, who, on indoctrinated principle, felt the need to object.

"No," Willow protested, but with a little too much conviction. His strong, rapid denial had drawn in the surprised gaze of Pansy and Cloud Duster, and he quickly remembered that the two 17-year-olds did not have the same benefit of hindsight that he did. He knew for a certain fact that the unicorns weren't responsible, the windigos were, but neither of them knew that, and this was hardly a progressive or racially sensitive era.

"... way," the future artist quickly tagged on. "No way. I mean, remember what I said? You really think they would just sabotage themselves to be spiteful?"

"Don't get me wrong Willow, what you said makes plenty sense too," Cloud Duster nodded seriously, gently mixing his mush. "It really doesn't make sense that any of the tribes would do it on purpose, but I've been thinking about it for a while, and I think it's just the best possible answer in a really confusing situation, at least for now. We all know for a fact it's not us causing it, the Earth ponies don't have any possible way to as far as I know, so that just leaves them - they've got plenty of magic."

"I've heard lots of scary things about unicorns..." Pansy admitted, looking down at her bowl with clear slight fear in her eyes. "Nopony here is really sure what they can do. We don't have much contact with them."

"Maybe it's something else," Willow insisted, trying to reel himself in so that he would sound more like a reasonable speculator than a psychic or a crazy person. "We don't know all the factors."

"Oh no that's true, that's true, I can totally see why you're saying that," Cloud Duster nodded fiercely. "But then again, Willow, you're a traveler. Isn't it true that the rest of the world doesn't function like our country? The weather controls itself, the plants grow without help, animals take care of themselves?"

"No, no!" Pansy protested, audible fear in her voice. "That's not true, that's just another scary myth the Privates made up."

But Willow was caught off by the question. He folded his ears, rubbed the back of his head, and sucked air through his teeth. "Actually, it is Pansy." She looked at him in horror. "I know it sounds really crazy, but that is true. Ponies are the only species that control their environment..." He knew that for a fact, but tagged on for authenticity: "As far as we have seen anyway, and we've seen a lot."

He couldn't remember how much he'd mentioned of it to Rache, so to make sure his companion didn't think he was laying for the teens' sake, he turned to the daemonpony and nodded. It was the truth that only ponies controlled their weather and ecosystem, and further more it was the truth that Willow had personally experienced it: He was a Ponyville resident, he'd visited the Everfree.

"That's crazy..." she whispered, looking down at her mush. It may have seemed melodramatic and almost dimwitted to the cultural outsider, but for a pony, it was a genuinely shocking, borderline-Eldritch concept to wrap one's mind around.

"I don't see what that has to do with the blizzard though," he turned back to Cloud Duster.

"Why would some other place in the world produce a thing that can control winter if we're the only ones that need to do it?"

Putting himself in the shoes of a resident of this era, Willow could see where this line of logic came from. No other species had intelligent weather control, so why would any force from outside the country have, well... weather control abilities? It'd be a completely superfluous power. And it wasn't any other force from within the country besides the pegasi had that ability. Again, Willow had special knowledge about the situation so of course the explanation seemed weak to him in comparison with the truth, but nopony here knew that yet.

"But unicorns have never controlled the weather before, that's why they have us," Willow crossed his arms critically. "They don't have the power to. And again, why would they just torture us and themselves?"

"Maybe it wasn't on purpose," Cloud Duster pointed out. "Maybe it was an accident."

"Come again?"

"This will sound very speculative," the blue pony held out a hoof. "But hear me out. We know they do all sorts of magical experiments up there in those mountains, we've gone through their garbage a few times. All sorts of crazy things. They think they can figure out how to travel through time and to other dimensions."

Willow blinked, not commenting on the irony.

"And they have enough power to control the sun and moon. That's really impressive, and really, none of us really have a lot of information about the full extent of their abilities," Duster continued to reason. "That sounds paranoid, but it is the facts, is it not?"

"It is," Pansy agreed.

"We're also their least favorite of the other tribes, because we don't directly give them presents, and our cultures are opposed. They really, really don't like us, they know we're important, but they don't like us."

"That is also true," Willow said, knowing he was right from history class. "But-"

"Hang on, I'm not done. So here's my speculation: The unicorns did some experiments to see if they could take over our job in the system themselves. They did it because they don't like us, they already believe themselves to be nobility, and it's probably just a drop in the bucket compared to their time and space experiments. But like you said Willow, it's not in their nature to do so, so they botched it up. They caused a winter by accident, and now they can't stop it, simple. We also can't stop it because it's not our magic causing it. Unnatural forces, exactly like Rache said."

Willow desperately wanted to call bullshit, on behalf of his appreciation for the truth and accuracy, but mostly on behalf of all his unicorn friends and neighbors back in Equestria. But he couldn't. There was no way to directly debunk Cloud Duster's theory without revealing just how much extra knowledge he had. It was just as Rache himself had urged: They couldn't risk altering the past, nor making themselves look suspicious or too strange. They'd be endangering themselves and the future. Unlike Rache, Willow did not believe Cloud Duster was a bad pony, but it was very internally painful, the struggle between his principles, knowledge of the truth, but also knowledge of the perspective of the ancient ponies.

"I guess that kind of makes sense," Pansy said, looking up. "But it's very circumstantial. I wouldn't bet anything on it."

"Neither would I," Cloud Duster agreed, snuggling his forelegs beneath himself. "I never said it was airtight or absolute, it's just what I think it probably the best possible answer given everything we know. The best out of many bad options." He smiled a little. "Just like what Commander Hurricane did."

"What?" Willow perked.

"Oh, I don't know if I should tell you that..." the young stallion bit the tip of his tongue and clicked his front hooves together mischievously. "I could get in a lot of trouble."

[Northwest Slobovia]

Another ding sounded announcing the lift car's arrival on the 6th floor, and lo and behold, a Welcome sign came into view. Furrowing a coppery brow, Dora rapped once on the ajar door and poked her head in.

"Hello?" she called.

Amanda looked over her shoulder at the knock and the voice, then stood up as she recognized the face. Her skirt swished as she hurried to open the door. “Hello, Dora.” The rest of the group resembled nothing so much as very successful trick-or-treaters; the lantern was a nice touch, and if she’d been back home, the she’d have been amazed by the android costume. But here… “Oh, you’ve brought some new Residents!” Amanda turned to beam at each of them; might as well get off on the right foot. “I’m Amanda Bela. I guess you all are new here. Won’t you please…”

She trailed off, momentarily awkward. She already had a guest, and didn’t want to seem rude to him. She turned and called to him. “General, would you like to meet some new Residents?”

“Of course.” Romulus replied to Amanda, before turning his head to look at these new arrivals. “I am General Romulus Aphrodisiac, of the Wilhelm Imperium, it’s a pleasure to meet you new comers.” He spoke to them with a welcoming smile.

Did new people come here everyday? Hopefully they’re folk that would be very useful to us in the days coming. He thought as he got a clear look at them. But he knew though that he’ll get a better chance to know them in no time, like everyone else already here.

Amanda stepped further into her apartment to allow the new Residents some room inside the door. “Please come in. As you see, I have a guest already, but a short visit will be fine.”

She waited for the to enter, then asked, “So… what are your names?”

[OOC: Romy appears courtesy the Imperial Department of Smiling and Nodding.]