Personification Life, the Universe, & Everything [IC]

[Monfrox]

Frozen Rain

There were so many books. Novels by Tom Clancy and Nelson DeMille, a guide to surviving the zombie apocalypse and a skill manual on the same subject by the US Army. The US Army handbook on counter-insurgency, a book with the subtitle of Twilight Company, Ghost Soldiers, Patient Zero, The Remaining, Extinction Horizon, the Complete SAS survival manual...all of these seemed so weirdly out of place in such an era. Once more, there was almost nothing that felt useful about them. But when Willow picked up the last book on the shelf, something seemed to catch his interest about it. The US Army Small Unit Tactics Handbook. Well, it didn't get any smaller than him and Sterling. There were things about how to conduct operations and patrolling tactics, the two types of offensive patrols: Combat patrols and reconnaissance patrols. Tactics and everything seemed so foreign to someone who hadn't nary an idea of human warfare like Willow, but when he came upon page 360 of the handbook, there was that little nugget of information that can make or break a mission: The GATE acronym. The page went as follows, and Willow would have to decide how much of the reading pertained to what he and Sterling were doing.

successful recon, the patrol leader applies the four fundamentals of reconnaissance: G A T E

Gain required information - The parent unit tells the patrol leader what information is required. This is in the form of the information requirement (IR) and priority intelligence requirements (PIR). The patrol's mission is then tailored to what information is required. During the entire patrol, members must continuously gain and exchange all information gathered, but cannot consider the mission accomplished unless all PIR has been gathered.

Avoid detection by the enemy - A patrol avoids letting the enemy know it is operating in the objective area. If the enemy knows he is being observed, he may move, change his plans, or increase his security measures. Methods of avoiding detection are:

[*] Minimize movement in the objective area.
[*] Move slow and low - stealth.
[*] Move no closer to the objective than necessary.
[*] Maximize use of long range surveillance and night vision devices.
[*] Minimize radio traffic.
[*] Use camouflage, and noise and light discipline.

Task Organize - When the PL receives the order, he analyzes his mission to ensure he understands what must be done. Then he task organizes his element to best accomplish the mission in accordance with the METT-TC. Recons are typically squad sized missions.

Regardless of how the recon and security elements are organized, each element maintains responsibility for its own local security. In a small recon patrol, the patrol headquarters may form a part of one of the subordinate elements rather than being a separate element. The number and size of the various teams and elements must be determined through the leader's METT-TC (Mission, Enemy, Terrain, Troops available, Time, and Civilian considerations) analysis. Regarding task organization, the determining factor is normally the amount of radios available.

Employ security measures - A patrol must be able to return to the friendly unit with the information it has gathered. Leaders emplace security elements where they can best overwatch the reconnaissance elements. In the event of compromise, they suppress the enemy so the reconnaissance elements can break contact.

[Giovenith]

Frozen Rain

It took a few quick re-reads in order to get past some of the more exclusive language, but the steps detailed in the handbook made a certain degree of common sense. It wasn't exactly the sort of miracle Willow had been hoping for, but it was better than nothing.

"I think stealth is pretty much our only option," he told Sterling, tucking the handbook away for further use later in their journey. "Even if we need to fight, we'll only have a chance if we can get a jump on them. Hopefully it won't come to that."

Was there anything else? The last thing Willow wanted was to get fucked somewhere in the snowy wilderness and look back on something they could have but didn't take along. Taking one last forceful scan around the room, he caught onto something.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the medal case nearby Sterling.

[Holy Lykos]

Frozen Rain

"I don't think either of us are much of a fighter anyway. An artist and a librarian in unfamiliar bodies will be... awkward. I think I can sneak around though, once I figure out how to not fall over while low to the ground." He smiled weakly, trying to be just a bit humerus in tone. He hadn't the chance to leaf through the books much, but had noted a distinct language difference between some of the works and the more fitting speech he'd heard. Odd. Maybe those books were from the past?

Though, he tilted his head as the other former pony pointed out the medal case. "No idea," He briefly replied before stepping over to get a bit of a closer look. "Something... metal? A medal for something? What did Brit get a medal in?"

[Monfrox]

Frozen Rain

The medals sat inside their own cutouts under a glass pane held in the wooden lid. At first glance, there was nothing really odd about them. But the ribbon fabric was tarnished lightly, and instead of in colorful blues and reds, it was in blacks, dark browns, and crimsons. There were inscriptions on the backs of each of them. On the first, a worn and dull steel hexagon with a wounded eagle depicted on it's front, read "For atrocities committed". The second was in the shape of a heart, but it was a black heart with a dull steel outline. Its inscription read "For permitting others to suffer". The last one was an upside-down steel star with a skull in the middle with a ring of red colored metal around the halfway points of the ends of the star, and it read on the back "For dereliction of duty".

[Northwest Slobovia]

Apartment 2L, The Building
October 16th, mid-afternoon

Sandy looked up from reading his laptop at the sound of a key turning in the door lock. He stood, looked down at the scattered scrolls on the table, and started returning them to their bins. He turned the portable holo-player off for good measure. Amanda came through the door, hung up her power-suit jacket -- no shoulder holster -- and stumbled to the couch. She collapsed onto it, kicking off her low heels, lying on her side, and resting her head on one of the couch's arms. "Oooohhhh... Six weeks, three days, Sandy."

"Did you win?"

Despite the grey rings under her eyes, Amanda's smile seem undimmed. "I won the parts that mattered. And some of what didn't. I told the client to get other counsel for the dodgy parts. Did I tell you about that?"

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "They'd heard of me, dumped this huge case in front of me after their barrister slipped and fell down a flight of stairs. They needed a replacement quickly, because they'd delayed frivolously too many times, and the judge had gotten tired of it. They made it worth my while, but they neglected to mention the problems with the contract. Took me a week of reading to find them, and then a couple of days to get the truth out of them. I gave them explicit instructions about what they could do with that part of their case.

"I won two of the three pro bono cases as well, including the mistaken-identity accusation in the car-jacking." She let her head flop back to the side, looking at her husband.

He gave her a dubious look in return. "I saw it in the news. You didn't have to crucify the victim."

Fire seemed to flare in Amanda's eyes, and steel entered her voice. "She and the prosecutor shouldn't have said she was certain my client was the knifeman when she had doubts about it. She shouldn't try to put a guy away for 15-to-20 based on 'maybe'. That reverses the roles; my client was the innocent one. He didn't deserve that. 5-to-10 for grand larceny, yes, but not 15-to-20 for assault with a deadly weapon in the commission of a felony."

"He's not a bad kid, either, Amanda. There's more--"

"Mmm. So, what have you been up to all this time?"

Dropping the issue, Sandy flicked the holo-player back on. "Wondering why Marcellus Verus, apparently somebody with taste and education, ended up dead in Julius Caesar's service." He gestured at the image floating above the player: a dead Legionnaire holding a scroll.

Amanda squinted at the image, having trouble bringing her tired eyes to a focus. "Who?"

In reply, Sandy tossed her a scroll tag. "The scroll's too badly damaged to read. The bottom third's burned away, and it's soaked with blood besides. I wasn't willing to try to unroll it; I thought I'd destroy it. But, uh, some folks at the university were willing to do some... well, I'm sure what their instruments did, but they were able to recover the surviving text even with the scroll rolled up and bloody." He caught Amanda's disgusted glance at the tag. "Second word of the first line. Just sound out the letters; I know you can read the Greek alphabet."

She made an unhappy sound, but took another look at the tag. "Psi... alpha... pi... phi...omega. Psap... psaf..." She blinked. "Sappho? You have some of the hottest smut of the ancient world??" Amanda lifted her head. "So, what's on the scroll? Hot girl-on-girl action?"

Despite the closed door, Sandy's sigh would have been audible on the entire floor. "Lesbos had the same sort of reputation as your alma mater, but not for that... not at the time. The old verb lesbiazein is suggestive. Sappho was bi, not gay... and I can prove it. A fragment we've had for a while suggests she had a daughter; this scroll has a poem describing her children as adults. The, uh, rest of the tag says the scroll... a previous version of it -- it's a third-generation Mouseion copy -- is from Syracuse, where her family was exiled. Sappho apparently was in her 60s then; the magic of the time doesn't seem to have been up to entirely treating her knee problems.

"However... as Ben Franklin remarked over two thousand years later, there are certain advantages to older women as lovers." He turned back to his laptop, scrolled up through the Greek text on the screen, then paused, mouthing words and trying to get the rhythm right.

What Sandy sang -- Classical poems were meant to be sung -- left Amanda surprisingly aroused for as little sleep as she'd gotten. "I... Wow... who was the guy she took to bed?"

Sandy shook his head. "Perhaps her husband; that seems the best fit given-- Sappho talks about her husband in other poems, and--"

"Husband, eh?" She gave Sandy a sly look. "If 'suggestive' was more 'suggestion', maybe later. But it is traditional to wine and dine a woman first, if that is what's on your mind."

Sandy froze, thought about it for a while, then, having come to a conclusion, rose from his seat. "Well, you have been making yourself scarce..." He fetched a goblet from a kitchen cabinet, conjured it full of a purple-black liquid and gave it to Amanda, before sitting down on one of the living room chairs. Amanda did the whole oenophile routine, swirling the glass, sniffing the wine, and finally taking a sip. "Mmmmm...." She leaned her head back, a big smile on her face. "Oh! This is wonderful!"

"It's Corellian, from the southern foothills of the Nomad Mountains. The plum foretaste is something else, yes."

"Foretaste, foreplay... come up with a dinner to match, and your wish may be my command."

"I'll see what I can do. But that will be for much later. It's, uh, movie night. We've put off Giovenith long enough, and we should learn our parts better."

Amanda drank far more than a dainty sip. "Alright, but that tells me you haven't looked at the holos either." Mental puzzle-pieces fell into place: Sandy hadn't answered her question. "What have you been doing for the last seven weeks?" She finally realized how much stuff was scattered across the dining room table, and that both leaves had been added to it. "You should keep that in your lab, dear."

Sandy smirked and chuckled. "It's been there for over a month; you hadn't noticed. These scrolls are just the light reading: plays, poetry, histories... everything except what I visited Alexandria for. That's taking up my workroom: the Discussion of magic -- my copies of it; the originals are already in poor shape from heavy use-- the regrowth spell, all of my previous magic references, and..."

Sandy stopped talking suddenly, and stared off through his workroom door. "I feel as though I'd been learning from a elementary school text on contemporary physics, but now I have all of Newton's and Galileo's works in front of me. Making sense of the differences is..." He paused again. "It's... glacially slow going. I'm slowly coming to grips with the Classical mindset. Their methods work -- their spells function perfectly well -- but... but they don't make good use of ousia, and their spells are overly complex for what they do, even compared to Andalusian Golden Age spells, much less Victorian ones.

"I've got the first eight volumes of the Discussion spread out on my workbench, on paper, heavily annotated already. I'm keeping them sync'd with my electronic copies by scanning and printing out newer versions. I... I really need to see everything at once to keep track of it all." A smile crept onto Sandy's face. "And keep track of how they relate to a rechargable battery for magic."

"So we can just plug you in and charge you up now?" Surprise filled Amanda's voice. "No more worries about being unable to draw from your well or being raked by the Claws?"

A head-shake was the reply. "The Claws will still get me, but otherwise, yeeeessss, I think... I think I can draw from stored ousia. They call it "Dawn", because the batteries are charged by filling them with crystalized ousia from Rosy-fingered Dawn's early light, to mix my allusions. It seems like it takes a long ritual.

"Back home, we don't really talk about magical energy; we seem to have lost that somewhere along the way. So this is all eye-opening, and explains why casting spells Looks the way it does." Another head-shake, this one sad. "But I don't know if what I'm learning works with Victorian magical principles, or if I'll have to relearn it later. But! Butbutbut!" Sandy went on excitedly. "I've got the Corcyran Anabiosis working. It regrew one of my little toes--"

Amanda's breath caught, her eyes widened. "What happened to your toe!?"

"Well, I needed to test the spell, and uh, beyond my own concerns about it working, I'm not sure if it's meant to work on animals or just people. I think it works on both, but if it doesn't, I'd never be sure what failure meant. I figured I could get by without a toe or two for a while. Don't worry, I used a clean scalpel.

"I was toeless for just a few minutes. That convinced me it was working right, so I've been using it on increasingly severe injuries in the clinic. It's just amazing, if exhausting to cast. I've grown people new eyes and hands... and even a lung! For the last week, I've cured injuries that otherwise would need to be treated in the Outermark!"

With a flare for the bathetic, Sandy switched gears. "Oh, and I got all the things on your list done: Maghrl's ship will be half-full of wine, spirits, and spices; Costuming made us up some new Corellian outfits; and we've got a couple of weeks' cooking ingredients for the journey, heavy on the comfort food." He paused for effect. "And I can turn willing people, including myself, into octopi. That might... somehow come in handy."


The Holodeck
That Evening

"There, I think we're ready." Amanda surveyed the holodeck: to one side of the door was a table laden with drinks and snack foods, suitable for all the people she expected might show up. On the other side, she and Sandy had set up an array of suitably comfortable chairs. All of the furniture was holographic; the food, drinks, and their containers were real.

The door side of the holodeck remained in its default state: a yellow on dark grey grid marking out a ten-foot-wide swath. But across a crimson line, directly opposite the chairs, tall holographic lettering hung in the air:

The History of the Walk-Around
Part 1: Pre-holographic Origins

[Giovenith]

Frozen Rain

Willow, leaning in to get a better look at the medals, blinked after reading all three and straightened up. "I know human society tends to be a bit more cynical than ours, but I don't think even they would go this far," he remarked, pointing at the despondent trophies. "It's weird. Too weird."

This might have been another clue from the force that sent them here—was it judging Brit? But she had never done any of these things. Maybe it was blaming her for the crimes of someone else? There were too many possibilities and too little time to consider them. Brushing it off, he lead Sterling back downstairs.

"We should get as far in as possible before night falls," he explained, patting himself around to make sure they hadn't missed anything. "Winter always gets worse at night. If it does come to that though, I do remember a little bit from flight camp about staying warm outside..." Willow didn't feel it pertinent to mention that he had hated flight camp and ignored most of what they tried to teach him. "... but as long as we stay down, I think we'll be good."

Worry wasn't productive. When they came back out yet again, the former pony got right to business. "How far can you get away with taking us?" he asked Heartling, climbing aboard.

Building

"Myeh!" Kerouac briefly stood on his hind legs as he saw Giovenith approach with saucer in hand. As she knelt down, his head already dove in to nibble on the ground up fish before the plate had even touched the floor, and the young woman giggled fondly as he chowed down. She patted his head.

"Poor baby, I bet you miss your Daddy, don't you?" she cooed to the tabby kitten, ignoring her mental image of Willow expressing his displeasure at ever being referred to as anyone's 'daddy.' "It's okay though, you've got me and Turtleboss to protect you."

Perhaps maybe not that last part... unfortunately, Turtleboss was the jealous type. Giovenith had successfully scolded him into not growling at the furry new edition to their home, and she made sure to give the waterbear lots of love and snuggles to reassure him that she hadn't abandoned him, but there was still clearly some anxiety there. Kerouac, for his part, didn't seem to understand the hostility and saw Turtleboss as yet something else to be fascinated by. This often put them in a difficult situation where Giovenith had the two because Kerouac couldn't take a hint that his older peer wasn't in the mood to play.

"Maybe Willow's right, maybe you do need to find somewhere else to live," she sighed sadly, giving him a light scratch behind the ears. "I hope not though."

The kitten simply purred in response, nudging his head against her hand and nipping her fingers. She smiled and scooped him into her hands.

"I guess another little walk wouldn't hurt, would it?" They were almost late to talk with Sandy and Bela. She'd planned on asking Sallow to watch the pets while she went on the adventure with them, but that would have to wait. "Let's go, I'm sure it's very important." Kerouac meowed.


Giovenith didn't remember exactly when they had built a holodeck, but then again, a magical building owned by a Greater Being couldn't exactly be expected to have predictable renovations. It took a second for her to figure out how to enter, but when she did, she was relieved to see that she was the first there. Not so late after all!

"Hi guys," Giovenith greeted the couple, shifting the cat to the top of her head. "Big day, huh?" They might as well get some light moments in while they could considering the dark nature of their eventual mission.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

A shambling figure made it's way up the grassy hill towards civilization, his mind was still dazed from the fall. Was it a fall? Well, Victor was shoved and afterward, he felt the sensation of falling for a while as he plummeted into the void. How long ago was that? He couldn't tell, could have been seconds, could have been years. Years? No, that was impossible, he would have died if that was the case. It certainly felt like it had been years or centuries but at the same time a few moments. It was not good for the mind to try to make sense of experiencing something like that.

In no time at all, he had reached the door of the building, it appeared to him as Tudor in style but from certain angles futuristic like in popular penny dreadful stories. As his robotic eye adjusted, it disagreed with his organic component whether it was made of bricks or computers.

"What is this place? Is it a dream?" Victor asked himself as he dragged himself to the front door. He reached for the door but found his left arm unresponsive, it seemed that the mechanical limb was still warming up, it had lost steam during the trip and needed an hour to warm up. he lifted it up with his right arm and found that his left hand had a death grip on his hideous adversary's claw that gripped a strange gun. The memories slowly surfaced as he stood at the door with a puzzled expression on his pale face. There had been a struggle, that creature had shoved him and shut off the machine, but Victor had got a hold of his claw in a desperate struggle to take the creature with him. He examined the hideous appendage, a clean cut through the bone, too clean to have been any tool that he knew of. It must have been the portal closing that severed it, Victor wasn't certain, could have also been a laser but it was irrelevant now. He tucked the strange gun and severed claw in his toolbelt which seemed to be missing most of his tools probably lost to the void.

With that, he opened the door to the lobby, which appeared to him as a luxurious sprawl of red carpet and dark oak walls with tapestries of worlds he could only imagine.
"Am... am I dead?" Victor asked nobody in particular. As he was still in a bit of shock, not entirely certain of his surroundings.

[Stormwrath]

Basement

"Unghhh...."

Macy's eyes slowly opened. She couldn't see anything besides the dark ceiling above her head, and the dark everything else, really. It was hard to tell where she actually was, even with her infrared vision. But perhaps she should find a way out of here. She curled herself up and reached for the plug attached to her nape. But then she heard a weird thunk against the table. That didn't sound normal at all.

She tried to move around, and the table clunked again. She moved her head around to find out where was that noise coming from. And that was when she saw it. Her right leg was gone. In its place appeared to be a hastily-installed prosthetic. This thing didn't have a skin around it, or paint, even the foot was missing. Just some bare metal and a peg leg attached to it.

What just happened? The details were hazy. The last time she was still active, she was by the sea, fighting some kind of... she can't really tell. But she was fighting. She and her fellow teammates were about to defeat it. And then, it came for her and...

Her eyes were wide open now. But she couldn't see that her new foot snagged on a wire, and unceremoniously fell to the floor face first. "I'm okay!"

Having managed to get out of the room, Macy began walking down the dark corridor to find a way out of this place. She had yet to get used to her newfound limp. As the halls kept winding left and right, she realized that she hadn't been in this part of the Building before. The pipes on the walls and the ceiling kept on going forever, and occasionally there would be one or two doors to her side. Was someone working down here?

No matter, she had come to the end of the hall, where a door was waiting for her. They let out a loud creak as she pushed them open, revealing a very long corridor that she must now cross. Macy sighed. "How long does this place go on?"

Actually, not very.


Lobby

She had managed to reach the stairwell and arrive at the ground floor. "Maintenance, huh?" Macy stared briefly at the sign on the door. Taking more clumsy steps forward, she made it to the lobby. Hmmm, doesn't seem like anyone's aro-

The front door suddenly opened, and a man stepped into the lobby looking confused. She dashed for the nearest pillar, her peg leg clashing against the floor. Who was that? Macy peeked out. He doesn't seem like he's ever been to the Building before. Was he the new guy? Staring at his metal arm, Macy tapped her leg and muttered, "Aw, that looks so much better than mine!"

[Holy Lykos]

Frozen Rain

"Yes, yes, weird, very weird," Sterling spoke into his hand as he held it to his face in contemplation. Perhaps... No, that would be silly. But maybe. The unicorn had started wondering about this place around them. it was almost too convenient, manicured, maybe even guiding them. The worst that had happened had been them conforming to this body shape, and the shrapnel in his side. No trouble convincing the army men they were one of them, that's what confused Sterling the most. The pair barely knew human history and mannerisms yet no one seemed to notice. Almost like there was a filter to their perceptions and the reality.

And now these medals, such despondence, such animosity. No one would give medals like that. Sterling swallowed a bit, thinking back to what he'd seen of Brit. She had always been a fan of the military...

But then Willow rushed out, and Sterling followed. His train of thought was lost, but he figured he'd catch it again later.

Down at the Jeep again, the former pony hauled himself into his previous spot on the Jeep, settling in with a friendly nod to Heartling.

[Monfrox]

Frozen Rain

Heartling looked at the two as they came out, she had been thinking on the patrol order and where Villeroux was.

"Well...I can't take you all the way there. I can get you about to where the line is but then I need to head back. I'm one of the only medics around here and if you didn't notice, this place is always busy for someone like me. I don't know if any of the other men can go with you either."

She started up the engine and took off down the road.

"Now that I think about it, the only way they'd send her out there is if they knew something was up. The Lieutenant always tried, at least a little bit, to be a good soldier. But she made a mistake on her last mission and ended up in hot water. It wouldn't surprise me if the Captain sent her out to get her out of her hair for a while."

Building, Lobby

For the usual atmosphere of the Building, it had been fairly quiet and scarce the past weeks and months. Echoes were only heard of footsteps or muffled talking, not of laughing and conversation as was the norm. It was truly silent for a long while, but perhaps that was the best time for one to make a return. A woman strolled in carefully with a suitcase behind her. She wore a lot of black, but it didn't seem to be in a stereotypical gothic fashion. A suitcoat over a modest dark purple turtleneck with a medium length skirt over her thick black tights. Her boots were more practical for the snow but looked rather simple. Her hair, also jet black, was long and flowing and covered the left side of her face on it's way down. She adjusted a stray hair with her left hand in a leather glove.

"Uhm...excuse me...is this the registrar?" She asked the two, her voice light and soft, almost louder than a whisper.

[Tiltjuice]

They were an odd pair in the Lobby. Volker and MB sat rather like a sitting totem pole of an ex-Nazi cultist and a teleporting color-changing rabbit would, both reading the Underworld Times in silence. On the Thinking Bench, in a break from the less ordinary ordinary that was the Building.

Instead, the only thing visible behind the desk was the top of a blonde head. The normally cheerful Mistress of Time's eyes had bags under them, putting the lie to her eternal youth.

"It could be a dream, Sir. Most of the time it is. My name is Chrysanthe - how can I help you...Victor? I believe Mister Demens put your name down somewhere here..."

There was a bright vermilion flash from across the way, and MB plopped down atop the stack of forms on the desk, waving both his ears excitedly at the stranger. A deft pair of forepaws sifted through the pile, pulling out the one with Victor's name on it, and then the rabbit turned to where the clunking had ended behind a pillar. An early lunch, perhaps...

He twitched his nose thoughtfully.

[Giovenith]

Frozen Rain

"I understand," Willow reassured. "Thank you for everything you've done so far for us, you didn't have to do any of it."

There wasn't much more they could ask for beyond this. He wanted to question Heartling on how dangerous she suspected the enemy might be, but that might have too readily put them under suspicion, seeing as soldiers like them probably should have known. Willow supposed they would just have to hope they didn't have to find out. He was silent the rest of the drive, using the time to collect his thoughts and plan ahead for what was to come.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

Lobby

Victo's head bobbed as he tried to locate the sound of metal in the distance. Hearing footsteps, he turned away from Macy's hidden position to face the woman behind him, trying to gauge her nature. His mechanical eye a system of lenses with a soft red glow and clockwork finding proper focus taking in the details. His eye relaxed as the lenses appearing as a monocle eyepatch of some sort settling into a comfortable position in the surrounding pale flesh. To him, she had the look of a corporate operative. She reminded him of the ones the Walters employed, to take care of private affairs and strikers.

"Not sure where I am at the moment. I'd be surprised if I was still around Chiron Beta Prime." Victor answered, giving a bow of respect.


Upon hearing his name, Victor whipped around to face the front desk where the blond woman and multi-colored rabbit (probably an alien pet of some kind) sat.

"I am Victor Wright, it is a pleasure to meet you. I suppose I should start by asking, where am I and how do you know my name? Then who is Mr. Demens?"

[Chedastan]

Lobby
...
Directly outside the Building

He wasn't sure where his mind has gone in the past... Year or so? The General retracted the thought though, he was certain it hadn't been that long. Maybe a migraine was getting to him or perhaps he was getting sick? This place sure was a far cry from the war scarred environments he had grown too fond of in his former career, however it seemed inevitable he'll catch some foreign ailment at some point or another, the Building was far too ripe with exotic and hazardous beings coming in and out freely for the mere concept of disease to not be of some concern.

Romulus bottomed up his coat as he starred out the windows, seeing as autumn leaves have been collecting just outside. Maybe he could use a walk, clear his head of his some, maybe he'll find a park.

Taking a step out, the smell of maple and pine cones filled his mighty nostrils, it immediately reminded him of more peaceful times that weren't as common. Walking down and away from the Building, he stumbled on Nivea half buried in a leaf pile, the rake and garbage bag being feet away. "Taking a break I see? Heh, that brings me back."

Nivea looked up at the giant, the shades on her face glimmering off the sun and reflecting back at Romulus, "Yeah I guess you could say that, but I don't see you being productive either." She smirked.

He cracked a smile back, "Yeah you're right, maybe I should be doing something." He then recalled his suit and its lack of power. "Say do you happen to know where I could find some Hydrogen by any chance?"

The Nevidian looked at him confused, "Hydro-what?"

"Never mind, I'll just find someone who has a better idea, you... Go back to your raking I assume." Nivea gave him a salute as he departed on his search for fuel, her on the other hand merely sat in the leaves enjoying the breeze. She can afford to get up later, or until someone prompts her to.

[Stormwrath]

Lobby

Macy kept herself behind the pillar and continued to stare. Victor had just been joined by a woman in a suit, another person that she hadn't seen before. Now that she thought about it, it has been a while since they've got new Residents joining them here. In fact it has been a while since there was anything going on. Then again, what did she know? In all that time she was deactivated and brought to the basement somehow.

Without thinking, her peg leg hit the pillar and made a loud noise. Shit!

"Uhmmm," she clumsily sidestepped to reveal herself. "Yeaaah, this is very awkward, I realize..."

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

Lobby

Victor turned to the young woman stepping out from behind the pillar, another unexpected surprise. His mechanical eye began to warm up and focus on what is organic eye saw, a young lady with a crude peg leg clearly not designed for the advanced socket she had. It was like something he might find in the Scrap Tenements on the frontier colonies.

"I see nothing to apologize for lass. It seems like this is a busy place." Victor remarked.

[Stormwrath]

Lobby

Macy sensed that he didn't seem to be bothered by her sudden appearance. "He's taking this quite well," she glanced away for a brief moment and muttered to herself.

Realizing that she was still talking to this newcomer, she tucked her arms behind her back and stammered, "Oh uhm, y-yes. This place certainly is." In reality she had no idea what had transpired in the past few months that she was inactive, or how she was brought to "Maintenance" in the first place, but perhaps Volker and MB could get her up to speed. Extending her hand she added, "I'm Macy. Nice to meet you, new neighbor! We don't get new people very often, right Mister Receptionist?"

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Building, Apartment 2L
December 7th, 8:30am

"Sandy?" Amanda sat upright in bed, not finding him next to her. She blinked rapidly to bring her eyes into focus and looked around the room; her husband was by one of the windows, holding the curtains open just enough to peer outside. At the sound of his name, he turned his face to her. "It snowed last night. It looks pretty deep, and it's still coming down."

Amanda sighed, threw the covers off, and padded over to the window to take a look: cars on the street were buried up to the tops of their tires, and then some. She shifted her gaze to Sandy's face. "Lemme guess: you want to go play in it."

Sandy let the curtain fall closed. "We did have fun in the snow in the Poconos that one time. As I recall, you, uh... more than enjoyed it too; 'were thrilled' might be a more appropriate description. In any case, it's not like I get that many chances; snow deep enough to matter isn't that common any place we've lived since I've gotten Pegasus."

Amanda nodded silently. The Poconos with Pegasus had been a novelty, but even by then, snow had already lost some of its charm during her years in Poughkeepsie. "Alright. But hit me with the keep-warm spell, would you? I'm getting cold."

Sandy cast the Critique on both of them, and they dressed, both of them pulling on sweatpants. Sandy wore a t-shirt, but Amanda pulled on snowpants as well, a sweatshirt, and a light jacket, more concerned about getting wet than Sandy. Likewise, Sandy put on sneakers, while Amanda dug out her tall winter boots.

As Sandy headed up to the roof, Amanda took the stairs down to the lobby. The cultists who provided clothing and equipment for missions were way ahead of them, having brought out a selection of warm outerwear and snow toys, including a few sleds.

Somebody had swept the Building's stoop, or perhaps Demens' magic kept it clear of snow. At the bottom of the stairs, though, the snow came up above Amanda's knees. Good thing for the snow pants and the keep-warm spell.

Amanda walked out far enough into the snow to scan the Building's roofline, waiting for-- There! Sandy waved from roof, and Amanda caught the faint sounds of a familiar Greek chant. As she watched, Sandy transformed into the legendary winged horse, and leapt from the rooftop.

Sandy flew in lazy, decending circles around the Building until he was just above the ground. Just before he seemed about to land in front of Amanda, he pumped his wings, and pulled up into the rising arc of a loop, flapping his wings vigorously. He was still climbing when Amanda lost sight of him in the falling snow.

Amanda returned her attention to the ground. Now what? She looked around for a few seconds before inspiration struck: a snowman! She started gathering snow to make its bottom ball.

Unseen by the Belas, the Sloth shuffled foward on the root framing the ceiling of the PLanimals' burrow, and cast a sluggish gaze across the snowy scene outside the burrow entrance.

[Giovenith]

I'll be gone...

Beings of flesh and sinew had no idea the work it took to look beautiful around these parts. A little eyeliner and they were good to go; Sallow had to spend the entire afternoon reconstructing his eye. It'd become torn after Ms. Prism took a pair of scissors to it, which had been very funny but more than a little inconvenient. There he sat in his room deep within the hidden void of the Building's paper population, dip-dip-dipping a tiny brush into a tub of paste and gently applying it on the rips and tears before slowly smoothing his paper skin back over it. Like Willow, he possessed the artistic skill necessary to make it seamless, not a hint of the incident anywhere on his face when it was done. Unlike Willow, he was aware of how good he looked, and spent several minutes admiring the end results. He smiled into mirror, which reflected a moving, rotoscope-like sketched image of him back.

That was how most of the paper world looked. Paper-Residents floating amongst flickering drawings against a white void, all crudely mimicking the solid place that their real selves dwelt. There wasn't much drama here, nor realization, but it had its own charm.

"'I had love once in the palm of my hand,'" Sallow hummed to himself, gingerly touching the dry spots on his face in the mirror. "'See the lines there. How we played, its game, are playing now; in bounds of white and heartless fields...'"

Ding-ding, ding-ding!

Elated by the sound of the bell, Sallow whirled around with a smile in time to catch the wrist of his best friend before she could attack him with a sharpie.

"Not today!" he waved a hoof chidingly. "Fridays are for looking good!"

The paper girl just stared at him, not wavering her own pert smile. Her face was always set like that, made further doll-like with its white complexion and accented make-up—Ms. Prism was Giovenith's paper counterpart. Here within the walls of the sketchy world, this clone too had managed to become a own warped reflection of its model. At initial glance there wasn't much difference between it and the godling, but upon further examination, one would find an exaggeration of Giovenith's pale colors and innocently eccentric ways, forming what could only be described as a pastel mime. True to this description, she never spoke, at least not directly—she was gifted in ventriloquism—so Sallow had been the one to christen her when he discovered her stuck in one of the further corners of the realm, where the sketches faded off.

Ms. Prism lifted her fingers to her lips coyly, still not changing her expression. Her other hand lifted to perform a slight of hand, producing a small card from thin air. She handed it to Sallow.

"For me?" the greaser-pony gasped, taking the card. He just loved being called out. Any excuse to ditch the void and have some fun. Alas for him though, the name scribbled at the top was for one of them not usually called on: Sanford Bela. "Oh, look at that." Sallow blew bangs from his face. "Not for me. But it is something new! Do you love art nouveau, Ms. Prism?"

The paper-mime-Gio pressed her hands to her cheeks and tilted her head, expression still static.

"So do I!" He extended a hoof to her theatrically. "Well let's be good boys and girls then and make the delivery, shall we?"

The two held hands and jumped upwards. At least it was upwards when they jumped, but by the time they landed, things turned and righted themselves and suddenly they were standing before the sketched out door of Apartment L2. Sallow Slashes and Ms. Prism knew where all the Apartments were, even if they hadn't entered them, being as there was endless time to explore their world when they were not being called upon. Sallow knocked on the white door to a tune.

"Open up, daddy-o, open up!" He shrieked with a smile.

Ms. Prism just stood there, smiling. She slowly lifted a pair of scissors and snipped them once.

[Northwest Slobovia]

"Open up, daddy-o, open up!" He shrieked with a smile.

Paper Sandy took his time answering the door, being as usual lost in thought. He opened his door, and stood puzzled at the sight of his neighbors: this pair hadn't visited him before. "Um, hello?"

It dawned on him that he was being offered a card bigger than a business card. A party invitation? That would explain, uhhhh, whatshisname... Sallow! Yes, Sallow's glee. Might as well do the neighborly thing. He reached out, touched the card, and Something™ Happened®.

[Something™ is a trademark and Something Happened® is a registered trademark of Acme Plot Devices, under license to Badger-Fennec Productions. Used without permission. So sue me; Amanda will point out it was for a Good Cause.]

[Giovenith]

Zip! Paper-Sandy was off on his way to an epic quest in WW2, and Ms. Prism's scissors jabbed the airspace he had been standing in just miliseconds after.

"Well!" Sallow clapped his hooves together. "I should be off then now, my totes-bro is out which means I get to play while he's gone! The first snow is here, and I waterproofed myself for the occasion."

Ms. Prism tried to stab the air where paper-Sandy had been a few more times, confused.

"See you later, gal-pal," Sallow bid Ms. Prism adieu, before winking out and making his way to the door of her flesh counterpart.

Giovenith, for her part, wasn't feeling too happy. The days were growing lonely with so many of her friends out who knows where and only her pets for company. She was excited to hear a knock on the door, but that waned when she answered and saw who it was. "Oh, you."

"Me!" Sallow flew circles around her excitedly. "It's snow time, Geo-puzzle! Can we build a snowpony, please?"

It wasn't that Giovenith disliked Sallow. It was just that she didn't like when he seemed to presume that he could replace Willow, as if her precious pony friend was something anyone could just take from her and then appease her with a knock-off. Still, it wouldn't do to be cruel to him, it wasn't the paper-clone's fault. Plus, he was better than nobody.

Once outside in the snowy yard, it wasn't hard to spot the forms of the Belas in the far off against all the white. They seemed to be one of the few people out and about these days. Not waiting for her to ask, Sallow snatched Giovenith by the shoulders and dragged her through the snow by air to more quickly approach the couple than they could have by stomping their way through.

"Hellooooo, angels!" the paper-pony greeted. "What are you making?"

In asking this, he held his hooves to his mouth curiously, letting go of Giovenith and letting her fall face-forward into the deep snow, leaving a Gio-shaped hole. She gave a muffled cry, not clear if it was one of anger, a cry for help, or greeting.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"Pleasure to meet you Macy, I am Victor Wright." He greeted with a small bow.

An amount of exposition later in the lobby...

"So, this place is a sort of hub that connects to other realities and the people here work for this Mr. Demens. An odd name by the way, but this does sound like a thrilling adventure. Like one of those Pence Dreadfuls novels. Where do I sign again?" Victor summarized as he filled out the various papers.

"And what a coincidence that my mortal enemy, Neil Von Eldritch the accursed reptile used to live here. Would you mind if I looked through his quarters? I need to know more about him and what kind of research he did before I face him again. After all, knowledge is power. I'm afraid I mostly know about cybernetics." he explained as he finished the forms.

"Macy, If we were to find some components there I might be able to construct a more suitable artificial limb if you so desire." he added.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

December 7th

An angry figure stomped her way out of one of the myriad apartments of the Building, her disheveled look and the singed parts of her dress telling the comical story of a woman whose burning passion had caused something in her room to literally burn down. Luckily, it hadn't been nearly serious enough to involve those creepy people that dealt with the Building's maintenance, or upset... whatever it was that had leased her the apartment in the first place, but it was still a bother.

I guess I'll have to start looking for a new chest of drawers. She sighed after having walked down a couple floors, her head cooling off both figuratively and literally after the freak accident. I'm just lucky none of my scrolls burned down. That would've been a tragedy.

Unaware that her cheeks were starting to flush, or perhaps trying to ignore it, the ancient woman continued heading down to the Building's main entrance, thinking that a walk would do her well and clear her mind; if one thing was certain right now, it was that she didn't want to have anything more to do with magic for the time being. Of course, she might've gotten to the ground floor quicker if she hadn't opted to take the stairs, but she wasn't going to use that strange portal box thing, oh no! One time she had gotten stuck due to some malfunction and she refused to go in alone ever since.

How much does a chest of drawers cost, anyways? The Kemetian sniffed as she pondered whether or not she had enough of those quirky little things that people used to trade goods saved up. She sniffed again as she realized how much of a hassle it would be to move that thing back to her room even if she could buy it. Finally, she decided to stop walking and address the metaphorical elephant in the room as a shiver shot through her body.

"Why is it so cold?!" She sniffed again and looked out a nearby window, noticing that there was... something white falling from the sky. What is that?

After admiring it for all of two seconds, she decided to continue on her way to the lobby. Someone was bound to know what was going on, and hopefully someone would lend her clothes better suited for this awful cold. As it turned out, when you live in a desert you don't tend to worry about getting things like winter coats.

Fortunately, when she arrived, there was a wealth of clothing articles to choose from, courtesy of the cultists that took care of the Building. Smiling through her rhinorrhea, Meritari approached a man who was oddly very difficult to describe.

"Hello! Is it fine if I borrow some of these? This cold is kil-" She was swiftly interrupted by the smiling man.

"Certainly! We have sweaters, jackets, vests, overcoats, shawls, gloves, scarves..." He listed off with all the diligence of a supernaturally enthusiastic retail employee.

"Er, just anything will do, thank y-" She tried, only to be interrupted again. A scowl quickly found its way into her face.

"...Wool caps, beanies, headbands, boots, balaclavas, cardigans, earmuffs..."

A couple minutes later, Meritari walked out of the Building fully decked out in winter wear, perhaps more so than was necessary for her peers, though she had a decent excuse for that. Whatever the case, though, she found herself once more admiring the landscape as she stepped outside. Seeing as she had never had contact with snow, the sight of the streets around the Building covered in several inches of the odd white substance was quite the strange thing to behold.

A sudden sneeze brought her back from her passive contemplation, and she looked around some more, quickly spotting Amanda nearby. Ah, a friendly face! She quickly walked over as she observed her friend manipulating that white thing with her hands as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Amanda! Good to see you!" She greeted cheerfully. "If you don't mind me asking, um, what is this thing?"

While asking her question, she had continued moving towards her friend, but suddenly one of her feet came into contact with something with a texture that was quite different from snow. Surprised, the Kemetian looked down only to see the figure of a familiar young woman lying on the ground face-down. "Oh my! I'm sorry for that." She hastily muttered as she crouched beside her and reached down. "Here, let me help you..."

[Monfrox]

Frozen Rain

As the cold wind had whipped by, the rest of the trip was spent trying to stay warm. Even Heartling was taking the jeep slow, though that was also because of the conditions. The wind and ice did not help with safe travel, but somehow they had made it. The line was certainly something. Though still in some rear echelon, with the tents and slit trenches all around, there was a certain weariness int he air. The sounds of the howling wind were now the dominant resonance in their cold ears as Heartling led the pair off towards one of the tents that had large boxes and crates in it. A man in uniform with glasses was making a count of things.

"Hey, Spare." She called as she got closer.

The man looked over and rubbed the fog off his lenses to see better. "Oh, Doc. Good. I found you some scissors, finally. Uh...who's that?"

"Oh, these are a couple of Patton's boys."

"Does that mean-"

"Shhhhhhhh! We don't know yet, keep it down. These guys were sent ahead with camera equipment, probably to film the big relief or whatever, but right now they're gonna go find one of our Ell Tees."

"You mean Nicholson? She's still not back yet?!"

Heartling shook her head. "Whaddaya got for 'em."

"Well..." Spare picked up two small rifles and put them on the table. "These just came in."

"Where from?"

"Joe and Connor's hole. They uh..." Spare looked down and adjusted his glasses before looking up at Heartling. "They were found this morning. Froze to death in their hole."

"Jesus..." Heartling took a second to process the information before getting back to the task at hand. "Any ammo?"

Spare gave them both the web belts that were presumed to belong to the rifle's previous owners and Heartling threw them over her shoulder. They left the tent without another word said. She led Willow and Sterling off towards the line but stopped in a vacant tent.

"Alright, normally we don't do this but you guys are going off on your own and it'd be crazy to send you out there without something. This is the M1A1 Carbine. Shoots .30 Carbine, which is a lot less powerful than the .30-06 Springfield our M1s shoot. You got a wire-folding stock to make it lighter and easier to jump with. It doesn't kick much and it can be a bit of a pain, but about three shots will put most guys on their ass if you hit them in the chest. The bolt moves every time you shoot. If it doesn't, or you pull the trigger and nothing happens, then check the bolt. If it's forward, pull it back. If there's a round in the mag still, that just means the bolt is frozen. We've had that happen a few times so don't panic if it does. If there's no round in the mag that you see, or the bolt is locked to the rear, that means you need to change magazines. You have 15 shots in each magazine, each pouch on these belts has 2 mags in it, and there are 5 pouches. That's 150 rounds total. Please don't shoot it all when you go out there. These are mainly a precaution for sneaking through the line so that you won't get caught without a means to defend yourself if you run into trouble."

Heartling made sure to explain alongside pointing out the parts on the weapon and the belts before she handed the rifles and belts off to the two of them.

"I hope they taught your camera boys how to shoot but just in case they didn't, you hold the weapon by the grip here and the wood handguard up here, and you line this middle post up here with your eye behind this circle here. Don't worry about the kick, it's not gonna jump out of your hand. It'll be more of a light push. Keep your head down and take your time with each shot."

With that, she walked them up through to the front. The sun cast a red streak across the sky.

"You boys better hurry. It'll be dark soon." There was a more serious tone to her cryptic warning than anything she had said up until now.

Out beyond the line, Paper-Sandy was now in his own olive drab uniform and overcoat, with medical bags and a white helmet cover over his M1 on his head. The 28th Infantry Division patch was sewn onto his shoulder but unlike Willow and Sterling, he had a pair of Captain's bars on his collar under his coat instead of anything else under the division patch. There was almost no sign of anyone around him in the dense Adrennes forest. There were footprints and kicked up snow, and tracks made in all directions. A few bodies lay around him of both Americans and Germans. A column of smoke in the distance stood out against the sky, though.

[Stormwrath]

After even more exposition, Macy had learned that she had been deactivated after the mission on the Huvidu-Zaan world. Her leg had been severely damaged during the fight with the Sulwynn, and they had to replace it with a peg leg until they could find a new leg for her. Funny thing is, she hadn't been switched on in a year, and gods know how many things happened during that time.

Her head perked up at the man's suggestion. "You can do that?" She asked without thinking. "I-I mean, I would like it if you're going to build a new leg for me, but as far as I know there are no suitable replacements found yet. Do you happen to know where to find some?"