Personification Life, the Universe, & Everything [IC]

[Mincaldenteans]

The Building, Fifth Floor
"How much did you hear about where he's been?"

It was an interesting piece of technology, far from anything the ritualist had been exposed to. The process of getting her guild "up to date" was slow, to say the least. Sandy and Amanda had done their part in getting the guild familiar with 'modern' technology, although skills such as driving and android tablets were a hit or miss with Anais' people. Driving especially, as a few of them took to it like fish to water while certain individuals (like her and Traxt) were about as familiar to engines as fish were to land, flopping and fumbling.

Something as small and seemingly insignificant with the ability to hold memories of things past was definitely a leap forward for her as well as the holodeck the ladies were closing in. Anais understood its use, but as far as she was concern, the holodeck was meant for unfamiliar technology than it was for proven magical practices. As such, she had refrained from the holodeck, preferring her preparations under her own hands and risk taken under her own measure and not some program that thought it could approximate her results. Still she, and those within the command structure for Demen's Chosen, were given a crash course on commands and uses of it. It didn't sit well with her, voicing commands to a machine, but figured it wasn't entirely alien given she spoke through a cell phone once.

The shells and chitin that adorned her headpiece rang a dull but sweet tone as she shook her head to Amanda's inquiry. Her entire outfit seemed antithetical to the highly advanced room they were about to enter, "I wasn't given much detail, simply that he and a few others were set to a mission. The risk assessment indicated a low to medium potential. Thank Dwayna he's alright."

They stopped at the entryway of the holodeck and Anais, with some reluctance, tapped upon the blank slate which immediately came to life. She pursed her lips, clearly the lack of buttons bothered her, as she tapped into the system. "Enter when ready," a female's voice intoned. The doors slid open languidly, a familiar buzz and hush as it dragged itself apart to reveal a cavernous room.

Anais shook her head, "I will never get used to the idea of technology, Mrs- Amanda. It is as unfamiliar and unsettling to me as magic would be to the other more Residents machine-inclined."

[Monfrox]

Most of the time, the hardest part is accepting help. People who care about you and call you friend just want to genuinely help, and deep down she knew that. But, that didn't make things different for Brit just because she wasn't back home with her old buddies. If anything, it was worse because she had enough people to count on one hand that she could consider even acquaintances. She was stuck in the middle of wanting to open up to Willow and shoving him away. Every step she took was labored slightly. Her body just felt so heavy with invisible weight. She winced when he started to question her.

"Brit?"
No...
"You're, not ready for research right now?"
Willow, please...
"Can we do anything for you?"
Just go away...
"Help you feel better?"
Please don't...
"Or, should we just come check on you later"
Willow I can't...
"We can fill you in on our set-up?"
This doesn't involve you...

So many things she wanted to say, as each phrase felt like it was stabbing through her. He cared about her, she knew that, but that just made things harder. She didn't want to tell him to leave her alone. To give her space. She wasn't sure how he'd take that. And even in the depths of her own darkness, she still worried about hurting others inadvertently. But her body was honest, and body language was often times more blunt than words could ease. She would've let him comfort her like he'd done before, but this time was different. This time, she just couldn't bear to show him this side of her that was worse than when they went through that hell. So, even as Chrys' paper self joined them, she started walking a bit faster towards the stairs. There was one place she knew she could be safe at this time, and she felt very vulnerable out in the open hallway.

[Swith Witherward]

AUTUMNAL DELIGHTS

Marcus would have used the crisp wind as an excuse for why his eye watered, had anyone commented on the tear. He looked away from godling and cat, pretending to scratch his nose as a finger wicked the salty drop from his cheek.

Home.

It wasn't the forlorn pastures and quaint Medieval village that greeted them as they made their way down the Building's front step. Rather, it was the short concrete walkway that guided their feet towards a sidewalk dappled with fallen leaves. Marcus lifted his gaze to catch sight of Bran's old shop across the street. It was vacant, but the house across the street still sat beside it... didn't a funny old man live there once upon a time? Marcus spotted him near his porch rail, lining pumpkins along the concrete steps leading to the house; his wife fussed with the garland of golden and red flowers adorning the frame of their front door. The theme repeated on most of the grand old homes lining Subabsurdus Street. Bielefeld did love its holidays, though it seemed their neighbors were only decorating just now.

The clear note of hammer striking brass clipped his ear, and he squeezed Giovenith's hand.

"Trolley!"

Half mouthed, and half whispered, the word rolled off his tongue with all the awe of a child catching sight of Father Christmas. It was perhaps excusable for Marcus to forget himself a moment. Bielefeld was, after all, the first stable home he'd known as a child.

He released Giovenith's hand and hopped onto the knee-high wall dividing the Building from the rest of the world. Several strides took him to the end, giving him a clear view of Main. And the ocean. And the shops and people, and the coastline which crept away from him to hug the hill upon which the old Observatory squatted. A powerful emotion swelled within his breast, building in size until he felt as though he would burst from it. He cast his arms wide and exhaled his joy.

"HELLO, BIELEFELD!"

The enthusiastic greeting garnered a sampler pack of replies - everything from "hello, neighbor" to "shut up, Marcus" - which only spurred him into fits of laughter.

His boots left the wall and carried him across the blacktop. Someone had taped a poster to the shop's front window. It was smallish, and hastily made, but held promise.

"Giovenith! Hey, Nick! Looks like they've recovered in time for a festival!" he pressed a finger to the cardstock as he called out to his companions. "Probably have Oktoberfest going on, too."

In Bielefeld, it wasn't enough to simply acknowledge the seasons. It approached events with staunch German precision befitting its roots, and with all the fanfare and flavor imbued by its multicultural denizens. Marcus could well remember pet shows and holiday street parties.

It is at this point that the reader might grouse about too much handwavium. After all, it simply isn't logical for an entire population to calmly go about their business shortly after being plucked from whatever hell they were enduring and dropped into the middle of a new dimension. Surely there would be frantic city officials, bristling military, and terrified citizens.

Bielefeldians are a quirky lot. The town had endured too many invasions and hardships to take a single peaceful moment for granted. Horrid Shit was always taken in stride... so much so that one could huddle behind a wall during the worst of worst times and overhear "Has Cthulhu gone yet?" followed by "Yes, and just in time. I want to get to Tesco before the pork sale ends!" Over time, the huddler would also learn to take Horrid Shit in stride, perhaps adding "Oh, but Aldi has kipper tins half price!" without much thought as to whether or not the store was still standing. So it was that the city officials were indeed scrambling to make sense of things, and the military was attempting to get its bearings... but the citizens (and veteran Residents) knew better than to be terrified. Keep calm and carry on, noble Bielefeldian, for peaceful moments are more precious than gold.

"Do you want to check it out?" Marcus had crossed the street during that long exposition, and now stood at Giovenith's side. "Hell, maybe my ATM card works here. We could stock up on some food." He paused to look towards the Observatory, then added, "I might want to check in later, just to find out what happened here."

Nila the Construct ventured down the steps and stood apart from the trio on the sidewalk. Hers was a far different approach. Human nostrils flared as she sampled the air. The anti-ab movement had clouded her memory of the place, though it seemed that all traces of it were now missing. She found herself wondering if she still had her job at Sainsbury's. And, being a Friday, kippers would indeed be on sale at Aldi - though the fish market always had fresh for much less.

Ocho did like his fish, and there wasn't any sense in letting doubts and fears waste an otherwise nice morning. Her mind made up, she adjusted her purse strap and bustled towards the heart of the Market District. Nila knew she'd find more than food. She'd ferret out information.

[Tiltjuice]

Chrys stood there uncertainly for a few moments. Had her powers put off the group? But no, she understood as she shifted a bit around the taller figures and caught sight of Desmond, just about as dead on his feet as some of her old friends. But she knew what Death's touch looked like, from those ages and from Minerva as well. He was safe.

And so she cupped her hands to her mouth and let loose an odd chuffing noise.

A few seconds later, a red and blue vortex blossomed into view and a beige-furred rabbit bounded out, nose twitching as he looked from being to being.

Not buzzer call. Taxi jump? he signed in the air with his ears that left behind trails of light. Chrys nodded and waved at Desmond. "3D, please, MB. A pint in the usual place."

The rabbit chuffed back at the Mistress of Time. A few hops later he'd glommed onto Des' spacesuit and teleported to the room in question.

Sleep den. Anything you need for decoration, make call for me. Am MB at your service.

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Building, Fifth Floor

Anais shook her head, "I will never get used to the idea of technology, Mrs- Amanda. It is as unfamiliar and unsettling to me as magic would be to the other more Residents machine-inclined."

Amanda laughed and smiled warmly at Anais: she'd hit the nail square on the head. "Not 'would be', was. Magic is all but unknown in my world. When Sandy first told me he could work magic, I thought he meant sleight of hand and other sorts of trickery most people called magic. When he said he could cast spells, I thought he was joking, and when he insisted, I thought he was crazy. Nobody can really cast spells in my world.

"And then he did. The first time he showed me Pegasus, I stood there slack-jawed for a while before I reached out to touch him. I didn't know what to think after that. Magic wasn't supposed to be real, but yet it was, and it was magic associated with a pantheon that was supposed to be mythical, something primitive people made up to explain natural forces they couldn't understand."

Amanda paused, a distant look on her face. "Now, magic keeps me warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It makes my coffee in the morning, and my drinks in the evening. I've missed that -- I've missed Sandy's comforting magic -- this past year and half. I more than got used to it, I have trouble functioning without it."

Her faced hardened, as she remembered something she'd rather not. "But it's still unsettling. Magic is horribly misused in my world, it's--"

She stopped suddenly and refocused on Anais, her smile returning. "But enough of that. There's a major city in my world called Alexandria. It sits where an imporant river empties into a sea known for extensive trade routes, so it's been a vital trading center since its founding. Once, over two thousand years ago, it was also a key center of scholarship and learning, both magical and mundane. It had, for a time, one of the largest libraries in the world, if not the largest, with hundreds of thousands of books on the shelves."

She paused to let Anais take that in and to judge her reaction. Was there anything like the Library of Alexandria where Anias was from? Or alternatively, would it not measure up, the way the Library didn't measure up to the Library of Congress? "The library burned on a number of occasions, and in my time, the library doesn't exist, and nearly all of the books it once held are lost or destroyed. Sandy took Nick and Baron Primordial to get one of those lost books, a book of magic theory. Not spells, but a description of how magic works and how to use it.

"Sandy said they got it. They saved it from one of the fires, along with hundreds of others. He was ecstatic and gave me the shard to see what they'd done. I have no idea what that means, but I do know that I want to find out." Amanda's smile changed again, become predatory: she didn't just look for facts, she hunted them, chased them together, and devoured them as a group, for that was how she turned facts -- evidence -- into justice. Facts made sense only in the context of other facts, so she wanted to see all the facts of Sandy's morning.

Amanda walked through the open doors like she owned the place, even though she had just Sandy's notes on how to use it. It was supposed to be user-friendly, with advanced AI to figure out what she meant, and from whichever possible futures had a United Federation of Planets in them. Those were good futures, with sophisticated technology. She addressed the AI confidently, as she pulled her phone out from her uniform pocket. "Holodeck, prepare to receive technical specifications for a holographic video memory device." She skimmed her messages until she found the one Sandy had sent that contained the file about the shard, then tapped the forward button.

The holodeck flatly recited a model number: "Type 47 revision C03 coupled-plasmonic memory shard, 16 gigaframe capacity. Ready to read holographic data."

Amanda had little idea what the details meant, but the file said it was for a Type 47 shard, and the holodeck said it was ready, so Amanda decided that was good enough. "Holodeck, read memory shard and set up playback."

"Scanning." There was a faint hum, and then the yellow-on-black gridwork changed, fading into a scene of an amphitheater surrounded by three and a half walls. Sandy's image was shown in bas-relief against the wall closest to the holodeck door, close to where Amanda was standing; he was wearing the same Persian green chiton, though it was whole and unbloodied. Amanda scanned the faces in the crowd, only recognizing one. She turned to Anais. "There's Primordial in the first row. Sandy said when he was planning this trip that the Library had an amphitheater, and judging from the scene, this must be it. Sandy was hoping to talk his way in as a visiting scholar, and since he's on stage, that seems to have worked."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

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The cryptic response that Meritari received from the pale woman made her blink and wonder what she meant by it. However, it seemed that Chrys was much calmer, so, for now, the Kemetian decided that the meaning of the words was not important, and simply followed the woman and the rest of the new residents on the tour, listening carefully. Unfortunately for her, however, most of the terms used were completely unfamiliar for her, despite the fact that Chrys was seemingly speaking in the tongue of old Kemet, and so she was not really able to learn much about the first floor of the Building, though she was intrigued by the idea of a 'healer of minds', and understood the notion of a workshop, having become a bit of an artisan herself after her first time facing death. Briefly, she wondered if the people who had brought her there might need her to use those talents again, but she brushed off that thought as the group began moving on. She would likely find that out when she needed to.

As the group arrived at the library (another of the few things she was familiar with, as Amunakh often told her about the place where the works of the scribes were stored), Meritari looked all around herself with some eagerness. After all, she believed she could learn more about this strange land from the records that its inhabitants surely kept inside the library, so she suspected she would come to spend a fair amount of time here. Listening to Chrys, however, her expression became thoughtful, her brow furrowing a little. She did not have a whole lot to exchange, only her papyri, and selfish as it might have been, she did not want to part with them just yet.

Her train of thought was derailed when Chrys reacted to the presence of people other than her tour-goers, and this prompted Meritari to begin paying more attention, spotting several other humans, including a pair that appeared to be identical to each other, and two strange creatures the likes of which she had never seen before. Of course, by this point, whatever shock she might have suffered was not nearly as great as it could have been, since she had already met Etzic, a much stranger being by her standards. This is not to say that she was not astonished, though, when one of the two creatures began flying over to the two identical girls, an act that surprised her, as the being did not have the guise of a bird.

Soon, the other creature approached, eagerly greeting the group and introducing itself, using more terms that she was unfamiliar with. However, it appeared to be quite friendly, much like Etzic before, which was pleasant to see. Moreover, since it claimed to be the caretaker of the library, she figured she would be seeing more of him in the future. She listened attentively to his explanation of how things worked, relieved that she wouldn't need to part with her papyri to conduct research unless she wanted to, and wondering if she might need his services in the future. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a girl with a strange headwear leaving in a hurry, with the winged creature chasing after her, and wondered what was going on, but she knew it was not her place to ask, and so, she turned her attention back to Sterling and Chrys.

Before long, they were once more moving, this time heading to the second floor of the building, which they passed relatively quickly after a short explanation. The ascent was quite uneventful, sans for the encounter with the man that was known as Cuisine, who was apparently quite elusive. Before they arrived at the third floor, however, Chrys turned around to look at Desmond, and Meritari did the same, wondering what had caught her attention. She noticed quite quickly that he was very tired, and undergoing a massive struggle just to walk up the stairs. She wanted to help him, and moved to do so, but before she completed any action, the pale woman made a strange noise, and a very peculiar scene took place before her: a small creature showed up and then disappeared alongside Desmond. The Kemetian blinked at the scene, knowing better than to freak out after everything she had seen, but still confused and hoping for an answer.

"What... was that, Chrys?" She asked the pale woman after turning towards her, a puzzled stare meeting her near-transparent eyes.

[Fvaarniimar]

Rmwtyliin and Rymryyj exchanged a Significant Glance. The latter started to rise from her chair - but she would be a near stranger to Brit. Neither Willow nor Chrys's duplicate likely would.

To all appearances, the pair were sharing a sheet of notes - not passing them. Admittedly, they had in fact been jotting relevant points of Sterling's beforehand, Rymryyj (who’d found herself to be somewhat ambidextrous) writing on the left side while Rmwtyliin took the right.

Bryt quite upset...You saw, my notes?

Did, I worry...Maybe could bring her something? Helped, her drink.

Yes!tea?

Might be comfortingsweet and spiced?

plan add clovessay, spoonful?

No, that w

Face switching from confused to affronted with a touch of amusement, the typically-reserved girl lightly swatted her clone. "Hey! You - that happened once!"

Rymryyj snickered. "I still cannot believe you actually drank it."
"It was tea," muttered the butt of the joke. "You know I must avoid offense." Yet she was smiling - because Rymryyj did know. Rymryyj had been raised in the same customs, prepared for the same responsibilities. Which made her actions entirely confusing. Why was she willing to banter here, amongst - outsiders?

“The library is excellent, filled with tales from everywhere.” Which she couldn't read. Which irritated her. “I expect the scrolls could not have a more dedicated caretaker than you, Stuur-lyng.”. She'd meant to lead into questions about the learning group… but it seemed as though that was not Sterling's idea, nor his strength. “What is involved in book restoration? It does sound interesting. What kinds of books are you able to restore? Only pehpur?”

Glancing down to their own paper, Rmwtyliin froze. While she'd been asking, Rymryyj had been writing: They must cease to be outsiders, Rmwtyliinat least few. I will engage you in silliness before all Dwellers if necessary for you to understand that it is time to let them know you.Nice job!

[Economa Incorporated]

At this point, Desmond was not about to ask any questions.

One moment, he was half bent over, vision blurred, throbbing heartbeat the only thing he could hear, pushing himself up the stairs with the railing moreso than stepping up it with his legs....and the next he was in a room, presumably his, very nearly falling over from sudden absence of the rail. There was a bed, and his travel bag was on it, and that was enough for him to focus on at the moment.

Straightening up best he could and setting his helmet down on the nearest surface, Desmond braced himself, preparing to lose the stiffness of the suit that was contributing significantly to him still being on his feet. He tapped the panel on his arm with a deep breath and a grimace, and the suit sighed a whir of release as it loosened it's seals and unlocked panels. A few zippers, clips, and straps later, and he was able to step out of it, letting it flop to the floor, a molted skin shed aside. Later. Setting it aside properly was not a priority at the moment.

Half limping, half falling, Desmond made it to the bed, and his bag. With stiff fingers, he fumbled through the duffel, looking, digging, searching...there, for the clear plastic baggy of telltale white-capped translucent orange bottles. Another brief struggle, and his hand held a tiny heap of familiar shapes and colors, which immediately were dry-swallowed. The bottles were discarded to the nightstand; the bag was ignored in situ. Desmond laid back, on top of the sheets, waiting for the red haze to fade into a grey one.

Cheeks wet, he embraced the nothingness as it rose within him with a sigh of release.

[Giovenith]

Willow briefly turned back to spot the visage following him. Chrys? But shouldn't she have been giving those new residents a tour? Ah, wait - another paper clone. Clingy, curious things, weren't they? How many of them were there?

Unfortunately he couldn't find much to say to her as he looked back and forth between the two women. Dreadful recollections pumped in the back of his head like a migraine and rocketed the pony's inner thoughts into a panic, though he fought tooth and nail to swallow them down and not let them show.

Was this proof of what he'd been told, what the beasts in the caves had used his memories to imply? His team couldn't trust him, Rainy couldn't trust him, and neither could Brit? Even when he thought their friendships were strong, when times got hard, his assistance wasn't wanted. Why, what did he do that was so repelling? Why wasn't he a good enough friend?

No, don't whine, Willow frantically told himself. Don't start pouting or sulking. Show that you are a good friend!

He kicked the lump in his middle down and pushed a smile. "You know what's the oldest cure for a gloomy day? Ice cream. After the meeting, me and the others could swing by the store and get some, and bring you back any flavor you want. Wouldn't that help? I know I have yet to see it fail!"

[Monfrox]

Brit hunched over a little more and tried not to make it obvious that she was using the wall to support her side. Willow talked about getting ice cream for her and while she wasn't really in the mood for some, it was the closest thing she was going to get as to a reason for him to head off next to telling him so, and she just couldn't do that to him right now. She took a deep breath and also tried not to make that obvious either. Ice cream...well, maybe it would be good, but later on. So much darkness was knotting itself up that she felt a weight in her heart. She had to hold on, and so she turned her head very slightly to him.

"Yeah...sure..." She tried to make it seem genuine but her voice was still carrying the same monotone.

[Giovenith]

Giovenith pulled Nick close and gave a small giggle into his fur at Marcus' joy and nostalgia. He was like a big kid, jumping, laughing, and reveling in all the happy sights and sounds of their hometown. He could be such a dichotomy - raised in hell and thus cold when he needed to be, but never allowing the innocent laughing light to do. In a smoke-filled sky, Marcus could still see the stars.

"Let's get something to eat, first," she said, shifting Nick. "Then we can check in, and on the way home, pick up supplies. We are surprisingly low!" She let the sentient kitty's head. "What do you think, Nick?"

---

"Yeah... sure..."

Willow wasn't tone deaf, especially not to that tone in particular. The, "I'm straining to be nice to you even though I really just want you gone," tone, it was a very old friend. His smile strained into something more resembling a thinly veiled grimace.

"Great," he said in a leveled tone that had an edge. "I'll see if I can find the time to do that. See if we can help you again." He turned around. "Come on... Paper-Chrys, we're not needed here."

"They really don't need you to be strong for them. They don't need you at all. Yet you're being mean to yourself all the time because you think they do. It hurts you and that hurts me."

Shut up, he told the flashbacks, struggling to push them away as he lead the paper clone back the library. It's not true, none of it's true. They were just saying that to manipulate me. They can't break me.

They can't break me again.

Willow knew that when he got back to the library the others would want to know what happened. He didn't want them to see him as a petty ball of bitter angst, so he took deep breaths to purge himself along the way and practiced a casual smile. After all, research team needed him, he was the one who started it. There was only one thing left.

"Hey, um, Ms. Other Chrys," he said amicably. "Maybe we don't talk too much about what happened back there? Just to let her have her privacy. Do you have your own name, by the way?"

The beatnik pony was the picture of chill once they arrived back at the research group. He brushed some lint off his sweater with a sigh and nodded.

"She'll be fine," Willow announced to the others. "I'll send Sallow to get her some ice cream later. Right now, we've got work to do!"

He zipped over the blackboard he had been pulling out before and wheeled it next to the designated table before waving the rest of the members over.

"I was thinking a good place to start would be some basic cosmology," he said, picking up some chalk. "We make a beginning at the very beginning!"

[Monfrox]

In a sense, perhaps this was the wrong thing to do. To push away her friends who just wanted to help may be straining to both of them, but she didn't want to show them what happened when she let it all go. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her hoodie as she felt tears start to streak down her cheeks. She was sorry, but she couldn't tell them that right now. Apologies would come later...but for now, there was a lot of things pushing and pulling and shouting to get out. She trudged up the stairs and found her room where it always had been. She didn't know whether or not to lock the door, and in the absence of her mind, she didn't.

One...two...she got three steps away from the door before her legs gave out on her. She hugged herself as she sat on her knees, and felt that twisted darkness leech into her entire body. Her breathing became labored while her mind dug up the memories and the emotions that came with them. Her brain rationalized this all under the simple explanation she'd heard so many times before, but she denied it. Her rocked back and forth, telling herself "no" over and over in a whimper before she pushed her hat up off her head with her hands clutching at her hair and screamed in agony.

Brit shook on her knees. Her hands and arms were shaking, but everything that was running through her mind was telling her the same thing.

This was your fault.
"No!"

She clawed her head and fell over into a fetal position.

"I didn't...! I...!"
You killed them.
"But...!"
You said so yourself.
"I...!"
You're a murderer!
"IT WASN'T-!"
It is!

She couldn't argue with herself. Everything she tried to deny just made it hurt more. She couldn't ignore the truth. Her body felt physically weak as a product of her emotions, and she tried to sit back up. Of course, her feelings had more of an impact on her life than most. Many times before she actually had worried herself sick. She felt her heart ache as she tried to come to terms with herself. But, she just couldn't fully do it. To know that she had caused the death of innocent people with her actions had broken her. Even now, the girl had trouble just traversing the floor. She wanted to go curl up in bed, but instead she settled for hugging her knees and sitting at the foot of it while she bawled her eyes out. As someone who kept things bottled up inside a lot, it would take her at least a few hours to get through this.

[Primordial Luxa]

Baron Primordial – Library

The Baron slunk his way into the library with all his usually serpentine warmth. Coy, smelling of thickly perfumed liquors and with a wry smile on his face he was wearing his younger face today. A skip in his step as he twirled his cane ever so slightly.

Wordlessly he sat down at the edge of the room and watched the spectacle unfurl. He watched the various participants in the room noting those that he intimately recognized and those that he didn’t. Many he found disappointing from a purely aesthetic perspective, but he reasoned they must have other benefits.

A scholar like many of those assembled he figure no one would be too offended if he inserted himself into the research team without prompting. He nodded slightly at Willows assessment of starting at the beginning, despite not knowing what the subject they were discussing was. Although he couldn’t help but think about some of the problems of time collapse that tended to occur at the beginning and the end of time.

[Swith Witherward]

BIELEFELD

Marcus was a bit worried that the restaurants would bar Nick. After all, nobody wanted a cat walking where people ate, plus enough grief was given to people over service dogs. He needn't have fretted, however. The closer they got to the heart of the District, the more it became apparent that the festival wouldn't allow anyone to go hungry.

The makeshift stalls and carts lining Memorial Park's walkways greeting their eyes and assaulted their noses. Heady apple and pumpkin scents dominated the area, reminding Marcus that he hadn't had a good slice of pie in ages. It was warmer here, thanks to stoves and bustling people. Beyond 'food alley', booths offered kitsch in tune with both autumn and winter. Painted wooden turkey plaques shared space with ceramic snowmen and rod iron reindeer. Soft woolly scarves hung from racks or were draped across tables. (It was at this point that Marcus suddenly remember he had purchased purplish cloth for Giovenith while at the Klingon market - damn, but he forgot to give it to her!)

Yet something didn't seem right. They were treading on old haunts. Nearly everything was familiar to them. At least, it should have been. The trees looked taller than remembered. The giraffe statue, with its tongue sticking out at heaven to spite the Drones, was not as shiny. Faces which should have been familiar seemed more careworn.

The young techpriest dug through his pockets to pay for a bag of warm, roasted pumpkin seeds, his eyes more trained on the vendor than the food. The man wasn't a stranger. In fact, he often peddled nuts outside the Observatory during business hours. The slightly unnerving sensation continued, though.

Marcus turned to hand Giovenith the bag, but it slipped from his hands. The seeds bounced and scattered along the pavement, landing on their shoes and Nick's fur. The young man made no apology. A trembling hand lifted instead, one finger thrust out at the festival poster stapled to a nearby pole.

Why hadn't he caught it earlier?

"The date," he hissed to his companions. "Look at the date."



3D

"Fucking nonsense, is what it is, and I'm to sort it?" grousing over her fate and the lack of planning by management, the quasi-anthropomorphic reptile loped down the hall towards Desmond's door. "And then I suspect I'll go right to the gate shift? That's a fine load of shit, that is!"

She reached his door and sat back on her haunches. Small paws adjusted the tool belt around her midsection and then she set a knuckle to dance on Desmond's door. "Hey, you in there. New arrival. Up and at it, boys. Work time."

Her arms pressed to her chest, wrists comfortably (for her) crossing to lend a friendly (for her species) feel. Golden eyes blinked, and then her blue scales darkened to an annoyed purple hue.

"Desmond Beckett!" The knock was louder. Meps drew herself up to stand tall - if 4' feet could be considered such. The strange, feathery tufts adorning the back of her head poofed out as she knocked again. "I haven't the Time to waste. Get up. It's time for work!"

[Mincaldenteans]

The Building, Fifth Floor

Anais shook her head, "I will never get used to the idea of technology, Mrs- Amanda. It is as unfamiliar and unsettling to me as magic would be to the other more Residents machine-inclined."

Amanda laughed and smiled warmly at Anais: she'd hit the nail square on the head. "Not 'would be', was. Magic is all but unknown in my world. When Sandy first told me he could work magic, I thought he meant sleight of hand and other sorts of trickery most people called magic. When he said he could cast spells, I thought he was joking, and when he insisted, I thought he was crazy. Nobody can really cast spells in my world.

"And then he did. The first time he showed me Pegasus, I stood there slack-jawed for a while before I reached out to touch him. I didn't know what to think after that. Magic wasn't supposed to be real, but yet it was, and it was magic associated with a pantheon that was supposed to be mythical, something primitive people made up to explain natural forces they couldn't understand."

Amanda paused, a distant look on her face. "Now, magic keeps me warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It makes my coffee in the morning, and my drinks in the evening. I've missed that -- I've missed Sandy's comforting magic -- this past year and half. I more than got used to it, I have trouble functioning without it."

Her faced hardened, as she remembered something she'd rather not. "But it's still unsettling. Magic is horribly misused in my world, it's--"

She stopped suddenly and refocused on Anais, her smile returning. "But enough of that. There's a major city in my world called Alexandria. It sits where an imporant river empties into a sea known for extensive trade routes, so it's been a vital trading center since its founding. Once, over two thousand years ago, it was also a key center of scholarship and learning, both magical and mundane. It had, for a time, one of the largest libraries in the world, if not the largest, with hundreds of thousands of books on the shelves."

She paused to let Anais take that in and to judge her reaction. Was there anything like the Library of Alexandria where Anias was from? Or alternatively, would it not measure up, the way the Library didn't measure up to the Library of Congress? "The library burned on a number of occasions, and in my time, the library doesn't exist, and nearly all of the books it once held are lost or destroyed. Sandy took Nick and Baron Primordial to get one of those lost books, a book of magic theory. Not spells, but a description of how magic works and how to use it.

"Sandy said they got it. They saved it from one of the fires, along with hundreds of others. He was ecstatic and gave me the shard to see what they'd done. I have no idea what that means, but I do know that I want to find out." Amanda's smile changed again, become predatory: she didn't just look for facts, she hunted them, chased them together, and devoured them as a group, for that was how she turned facts -- evidence -- into justice. Facts made sense only in the context of other facts, so she wanted to see all the facts of Sandy's morning.

Amanda walked through the open doors like she owned the place, even though she had just Sandy's notes on how to use it. It was supposed to be user-friendly, with advanced AI to figure out what she meant, and from whichever possible futures had a United Federation of Planets in them. Those were good futures, with sophisticated technology. She addressed the AI confidently, as she pulled her phone out from her uniform pocket. "Holodeck, prepare to receive technical specifications for a holographic video memory device." She skimmed her messages until she found the one Sandy had sent that contained the file about the shard, then tapped the forward button.

The holodeck flatly recited a model number: "Type 47 revision C03 coupled-plasmonic memory shard, 16 gigaframe capacity. Ready to read holographic data."

Amanda had little idea what the details meant, but the file said it was for a Type 47 shard, and the holodeck said it was ready, so Amanda decided that was good enough. "Holodeck, read memory shard and set up playback."

"Scanning." There was a faint hum, and then the yellow-on-black gridwork changed, fading into a scene of an amphitheater surrounded by three and a half walls. Sandy's image was shown in bas-relief against the wall closest to the holodeck door, close to where Amanda was standing; he was wearing the same Persian green chiton, though it was whole and unbloodied. Amanda scanned the faces in the crowd, only recognizing one. She turned to Anais. "There's Primordial in the first row. Sandy said when he was planning this trip that the Library had an amphitheater, and judging from the scene, this must be it. Sandy was hoping to talk his way in as a visiting scholar, and since he's on stage, that seems to have worked."

Where wasn't magic abused? Anais had seen her fair share of those that wielded their gifts like tools instead of nurturing it. Canthan history, that of her own people and their sworn enemies and beyond, were rife with those thinking to subdue to others by superior magic. They had done little to understand what they fiddled with and even less so about the consequences when unleashed; the vast Jade Sea and the Echovald Forest stood testament to such abandon. Similarly, despite her knowing her own ethical stance, such strong and blatant use had its degrees of success; it forced the Tengu to peace, it had unified Cantha under one flag (ostensibly), and forced a few Envoys to acknowledge their failures and complacency.

All this was left unsaid as Anais could only give a curt nod when Amanda, thankfully, changed subjects. Magic was seldom an easy subject to discuss, adding morality and ethics into the mix would only grey the lines. She didn't know Amanda well enough to debate such topics and the sensitive nature of it would surely sour their friendship. She took a breath as Amanda commanded the holodeck; her explanation of Alexandria reminded Anais of the Durheim Archives where she had studied for sometime. As the holodeck shimmered the recording to life, she stared in awe. The building was decorated, ornate, yet simplistic in its design, elegant, even.

"Theoretical magic?" Anais inquired. There was spells, there was applications, but to speak of the finer works of magic itself - the essence that drove the results - that was usually a work in progress that was never quite answered. She perked an eyebrow with interest, but than made a face at the sight of Sandy as pointed out and made an off comment that would make Cherry proud (but hopefully not offend the wife!), "The outfit doesn't suit him."

[Holy Lykos]

"She'll be fine," Willow announced to the others. "I'll send Sallow to get her some ice cream later. Right now, we've got work to do!"

He zipped over the blackboard he had been pulling out before and wheeled it next to the designated table before waving the rest of the members over.

"I was thinking a good place to start would be some basic cosmology," he said, picking up some chalk. "We make a beginning at the very beginning!"

"Ice cream would be good..." Sterling mused, a bit distracted by the strangely subtle yet grandiose entrance of the Luxan Primordial. What a strange person, but still familiar. "You're... Primordial correct? I'm unsure if we've spoken much before but I certainly remember you around the building." Sterling tapped a hoof against his chin in thought, before shrugging. "Either way its good to have another person in our little study group. I agree with Willow that we should start with cosmology. Won't it be different for every universe though? Or are we discussing multiversal cosmology?"

Though the Rmw twins (a name Sterling has just thought of. He chuckled a bit to himself internally) brought up an interesting discussion over the conservation of the written word. His job. "Oh! Thank you, miss... uh I don't think I caught your name..." He thought for a moment, before continuing. "Either way, conservation of written works is complex. A bit of a difficult topic to broach quickly. In essence much of preservation is simply storing the originals in secure and properly controlled environments, with the occasional restorations or recreation. I'm mostly familiar with paper, yes, but I've worked with papyrus and other materials. Wood pulp paper is the most common material in Equestria for modern books, but such material has poor shelf life. Luckily, most scrolls are made of hardier stuff, and usually magically preserved in some way. Starswirl and other great ponies didn't want their work lost.

"But I'm unsure how more technologically advanced systems work. Things like com-pute-arrs, I think they're called, are a bit out of my purview. I've been meaning to try them, but the interfaces are made for those with uh... hands." He frowned, glancing at his forehooves before placing the lifted one on the floor once more, and sitting himself down on one of the chairs.

"I can explain more later though. I think we should focus on Cosmology first as Willow suggested."

---

"What... was that, Chrys?" She asked the pale woman after turning towards her, a puzzled stare meeting her near-transparent eyes.

"Some sort of..." Etzic thought for a moment, scratching at the back of his neck, "Teleportation? Instant transport to another location, at the very least. Strange two tone colored magic, too. I'm used to my magic sparking iridescent, not red and blue. Strange." The Skritar trailed off near the end of his words, glancing towards Meritari. She was quite the nice human, though there was a bit of strangeness about her. Not just because of the skeletal hand of course, but she was just purely interesting to speak with so far. Chrys seemed pleasant too, a good host and so far a good tour guide.

The library had been an interesting stop, but Etzic was eager to see more of the building if it was to be his new home. The spacewalker had seemed near dead on his feet, and Etzic had thought about offering him a strength charm to make the trip easier for him. But of course, the strange creature that reminded him of brevasans had taken the spacewalker away, and now he was left with just Chrys, Meritari, and himself. A small tour group indeed.

"Anyway," Etzic started, turning back to Chrys. "Where are we visiting next, Chrys?"

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Building, Fifth Floor, Holodeck

"Theoretical magic?" Anais inquired. [...] She perked an eyebrow with interest, but than made a face at the sight of Sandy as pointed out and made an off comment that would make Cherry proud (but hopefully not offend the wife!), "The outfit doesn't suit him."

Amanda politely ignored Anais' jibe. If Sandy thought that was the right thing to wear in the time and place, it probably was. She nodded as though she hadn't heard the comment, answering Anais' question as best she could, which wasn't very well. "Yes, how spells work, how to create new ones. How, I think, magic itself acts. I'm not entirely sure what Sandy meant by that description.

"He did say that where he hoped to find a single volume..." She paused uncharacteristically; Amanda was on very shaky ground with the topic, but indicated sizes with her hands and fingers. "Um, a single scroll -- not very large, but written in tiny letters -- he found sixty. The Discussion of Magic was reputed to be the most thorough study of the subject in its age, not bettered for over a thousand years." She shook her head and held up her hands in a helpless gesture. "You'd really have to ask Sandy about it. I don't even know if he got a chance to glance at it before returning."

[Tiltjuice]

"I'm not completely sure. He's a very strange creature who thinks the whole world is a sandbox to play in." Chrys turned her gaze back to Meri and Etzic, smiling ruefully and shaking her head in exasperated fondness at MB's continued antics. "And he has a very unusual taste in food."

"But yes, the next stop. We can, of course, skip past most of the rooms; breaking in is frowned on, and you'll both meet everyone sooner or later. Just as with MB; quirks abound in Demens Towers."

A blue and red disc, like a colorized image of the galaxy, popped open and the top of a pumpkin dropped out of the swirling hues, landing on Chrys' head, with the green stalk oddly reminiscent of an old-fashioned nightcap's tassel and fuzzy ball.

"Like that one," she gave a resigned sigh, still smiling, as she walked. "As I was saying - there are a few other locations you might want to visit before we go outside for the Fall Festival. The π floor is only reached by this lift, the leftmost." The call button hadn't lit up for more than three seconds before said lift car's doors opened. "I have never been on it myself, so we'll all experience the novelty together. Beyond that, the fifth floor houses the Building's hospital, and a training facility that can, er - " she cast about for words that Meri might understand, as someone who had also originated in the distant past " - make images to interact with. For training and learning mostly, but also could be for entertainment as needed. Etzic, are you familiar with it?"

[Holy Lykos]

"Beyond that, the fifth floor houses the Building's hospital, and a training facility that can, er make images to interact with. For training and learning mostly, but also could be for entertainment as needed. Etzic, are you familiar with it?"

"I believe I am." Etzic nodded. "Fake copies of enemies, or targets that you train against? More advanced training mannequin?" He questioned, tilting his head a bit to one side as he thought. "Yeah. I think my home had something similar. I didn't use it much myself, whisp doesn't really affect projections like that."

"We could go visit the hospital first? That might be good to visit so we know where it is in case of crisis." Etzic nodded, glancing between Meritari and Chrys, his tail coiling itself up about one of his legs to keep itself out of the way of the others.

[Giovenith]

Library

Willow watched at the others gathered round. It wasn't the set he'd been expecting but it would do just fine. They were all here wondering what to do, likely, so he set the chalk down briefly and cleared his throat.

"So I'm sure you're probably all wondering what the point to this group is," he said. "Well, in a way, it's a place for people who have been struggling to find their point — their place. I'm not a spiritual pony as some of you might know, but you can't have a name like "the Agency" and not expect to be here for a bigger purpose. As we go along, I'm sure we'll find what that purpose is, and it will need formal thought and planning, not to mention all the adventures our friends get into along the way. So!"

Willow picked up the chalk again and wrote in his neatest mouthwriting, Research Team.

"We can help our friends by finding the sort of information that can help them on their journeys. Now, obviously we don't have specifics yet," he admitted, setting down the calk and holding up a hoof. "Which is why I thought we'd go over the basics, such as a cosmology. Mr. Primordial..." The point pointed to the Luxan. "... how about you come up and share what you know about the basic functions of this universe?" He thought a second more. "Preferably in a way that doesn't melt our brains, literally or figuratively, please."

[Fvaarniimar]

Library

Rmwtyliin nodded to Sterling as Willow returned. Maybe they could research kompiuturs together, later.

Meanwhile, Rymryyj pulled a clean sheet of paper from her bag setting it before herself and the girl from whom she'd been copied. Working in silence, they filled the paper with meeting notes - completely typical, save for their illegibility. This wasn't due to any personal code, although a shared tendency towards abbreviation did come into play, but rather simply to the fact that they were in Fvaarniimarn, the girls' native tongue and script. Rymryyj additionally scratched down concise translations of writing.

Both felt they lacked the knowledge to sensibly question Willow or the Baron, although Rymryyj was more confident in her understanding. Given that and a shared impression that if they just could collect all the information then they could better comprehend the situation, they were taking notes in silence for quite some time.

That said, one detail garned a rather notable reaction - a shared glance, a simultaneous nod, and both sitting straighter.

Library

"So I'm sure you're probably all wondering what the point to this group is," he said. "Well, in a way, it's a place for people who have been struggling to find their point — their place."

That certainly applied. Clearly, they both had a ways to go before either could succeed at Rmwtyliin's original purpose of being a diplomat. Being able to help the others in the meantime -
They smiled.

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Building, Fifth Floor, Holodeck

Anais nodded carefully, unsure what to make of such a thorough book of magic theory. Amanda paused for a moment, not sure if she should start the holo or wait for more of a reply, then caught a glimpse of Anais' handler in the wings, giving her the thumbs-up and twirling his finger in a 'keep it moving' gesture. Right! Damned fourth-wall breaks! I can't acknowledge them, so I have no idea what to do when one happens.

Amanda turned to face the amphitheater's audience, and spoke to the empty air. "Holodeck, start replay." The images sprang into motion, and she listened raptly, her arms crossed in front of her as she let her Babelfish translate the Ptolemaic Greek. She'd heard Sandy's history lectures before, but magic was something new to hear about at length. Beyond the lecture being one she could follow -- and therefore elementary -- she couldn't tell much about it, and started to drift off.

She refocused at Teisias' announcement, and became more animated, shifting her position continuously as she kept her eyes on the action. Amanda paused the holo twice, the first time to describe the spells Sandy was casting and the significance of the potions, and the second to explain the mysterious name a little later. "Melpomene is the Muse of Tragedy, one of nine sister goddesses to whom the Library is dedicated. Most of them inspire people in the arts, tragic stories in her case, but two of the sisters are more intellectual. Urania is the Muse of Astronomy, and by extension, the other sciences, and Kleo is the Muse of History. Sandy sometimes claims to be her devotée. He said he spoke to Melpomene and Thalia, the Muse of Comedy, personally. I guess that's what he told them."

She shook her head slowly, both awed and mystified: Sandy spoke to gods -- Olympians, even! -- and lived to tell the tale. One more thing to ask him about.

Amanda let the video play on for a few more minutes.

Primordial and Sandy hurried around the corner, yanked the history building’s door open and… stepped carefully over the wrecked, burning furniture in front of them. Smoke was already filling the building, and fire seemed to be everywhere.

Sandy placed a hand on the Baron’s shoulder. “Let’s take a second to look around.” [...] The scene resolved itself into swathes of destruction: overturned furniture, scattered scrolls, and unidentifiable flaming debris roughly tracing the routes between doors. [...] He pointed to the gallery nearly overhead: Teisias stood by himself. “He’s got a… an immense spell up, sustaining them. He’s a mage, like Kale, but with life magic.”

"Holodeck, pause now!" She shouted to air. "Can you do something about all the smoke? I can't see a thing."

The holodeck's female voice replied in a monotone, "Enhancing using further data." The smoke seemed to clear in distinct stages, although everything at a distance was blurry and indistinct.

Amanda walked around the immense room displayed, seeming to examine it all. Looking at the flames frozen by the paused replay, she muttered to herself, amazed. "Sandy went into this inferno willingly." The Library was both familiar and unfamiliar to her: Libraries hadn't changed that much in two thousand years. There were books, sort of, on the shelves, sort of, and people had been studying them and taking notes.

The pillar of fire seemed to draw her, and she stepped around the wreckage and the unmoving Librarians to stand by its feet and gaze up at it. It was too blurry to make out much detail, but she caught a critical detail: its fire was making one of the rafters smoulder. She turned to look back at Sandy and Primordial's images, whispering. "Madmen, clearly madmen." But she wore a trace of a grin: Sandy wouldn't have missed this for anything.

[Mincaldenteans]

Anais moved a few feet from Amanda, inspecting the frozen scene before her without interference. She glanced up to see the other group from afar, beyond the flames and deeper within; from what she could make out, it was though they were working toward something amid the fire, debris and general mess that was the same pristine library only a few moments ago. At such a distance and with the smoke that hadn't fully cleared by Amanda's command, the Ritualist could only make hasty presumptions of what she saw before her.

"Computer, enhance that group around us. I'd like to see what they," she pointed out instinctively as though the holodeck could see and understand her body movement, "Are doing."

"Unable to comply, insufficient data," it intoned, clearly it had understood, or at least intuit, Anais' query.

The healer bit her lower lip in mild frustration as she pondered her next directives. Machines and their need for specificity, she was told. Anais was beginning to see the frustrations beyond the average user's comprehension of such technology. "Can you... can you magnify the image?"

"Please specify range of enhancement."

She threw her hands up, shaking her head, "I do not know. Magnify without losing too much detail."

Without responding the computer shimmered the image and re-initialized it to display it before the ladies. But the details were almost blurred. Were it not for the flames, shadows and over all scene of the recording, Anais would have been at a lost as to what was in front of them. It was a circle, at least from the positions the group stood at with their arms out or closed, as though... as though they were working a spell. She knew what she saw although Anais was accustomed to being in a circle rather than at the edges; the principle wasn't lost or dissimilar, "A ritual. Computer, can you sharpen the image?"

"Unable to comply; image enhancement at 250% above normal with available data."

"They're," Anais began and stopped momentarily, tilting her head as she read the group's frozen postures. She frowned as she pointed at the group spread in a circle evenly and looked at Amanda, "I can't be certain, but they're either containing something or working a spell, or perhaps binding something. I can't be certain. What is certain is that something like this takes an immense amount of power and effort."

"Computer, continue playback."

"He’s got a… an immense spell up, sustaining them. He’s a mage, like Kale, but with life magic."

"Pause." Anais turned to Amanda. "Life magic is dangerous. Most monks and ritualists from where I'm from take great care with what and how we cast spells that entail a certain... sacrifice." She shook her head, "I wonder what it is they saw, exactly; if only we can get in closer to what they're doing on the other end."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

---

---

---

Meritari listened to both Etzic and Chrys provide answers regarding the event that had just transpired before her eyes, the disappearance of Desmond. Or, at least, she figured Chrys had tried to explain the event somehow, though her answers did not really do much to clarify things. Etzic's was better, instantly moving from one place to another was something she could at least grasp, and though she obviously did not understand how it worked, it would have been foolish to cast it in doubt when she had just witnessed it. Despite this, she still found the creature's statement rather odd. He brought up colors and such, but since when did magic have a predilect color or form?

She decided not to question it though, thinking it was not too important and assuming for now that it was simply something pertaining to his culture or the place where he was born. Instead of worrying about that, she continued walking alongside the creature and the pale woman, the sudden fall of the orange... thing surprising her, though all in all, despite its novelty, it hardly seemed important enough to stop the tour for its sake.

As she walked, the Kemetian listened to Chrys explain the contents of the fifth floor of the building. A hospital was yet another concept she could grasp, as she had seen the large life houses of Tjenu where the sick were treated and cared for. What caught her attention the most, however, was the mention of a training facility that apparently possessed the ability to summon images of targets and enemies. Though she did not know how that might be possible, it sounded like an impressive thing and she looked forward to seeing it, especially if it was true that it could be used for learning and entertainment as well. However, never one to rush things, she decided that if it was a destination in their tour, they would see it sooner or later.

"I'll accept whichever destination you choose first, Chrys." The woman said with a nod. "In the mean time, mind telling me about this 'Fall Festival' you mentioned?" She asked afterwards, curious about the festivity and its odd name. After all, she did not know that in that land, fall was the name of a season.

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Building, Fifth Floor, Hospital

[Anais] quickly made her way to the front desk and picked up a report that was left in her box, specifically.

Distant footsteps and rustling roused Sandy briefly, and his eyes came to rest on a set of digits near his bed. Eventually, he managed to connect the digits to the IV pump they were on, and their meaning slowly dawned on him as he considered the mostly-full unit of plasma hanging above the pump. That's a high normal replenishment rate for me. Just how much blood did I lose? He looked down at his bandaged arm, trying call up a name. Deep... deep something artery. He returned his gaze to the flow rate, forced his mind to do some arithmetic, and then jacked the pumping up to fast surgical replenishment. He sank back into the bed, watching the drip.

* * *

Some time later, Sandy realized his head seemed clearer and his weariness had diminished. The IV bag was nearly empty as well. Time to get moving. What he needed was a bit more potent than plasma.

He sat up in bed and counted ten. Having not passed out, he swung his feet over the side, flicked the pump off, and slid the needle out of his arm, holding the spot with his thumb to stop it from bleeding. He managed to stand without blacking out, so he found the sandals he'd been wearing Alexandria, and took careful steps over to the alchemeticals cabinet. A vial of Ox Blood later, he checked his admission report. Yep, he'd collapsed into the arms of the gate crew. Adrenalin was amazing stuff, but when it wore off...

He snorted at the report's terse "Stabilized and transported" -- in Galli, that could mean anything -- and tossed the report back into its bin. Time to go home and change clothes. Not seeing a wheelchair -- did they even have one? -- and not having his phone to call Amanda, his feet were the only option. Take it slow, Bela. Blacking out in the elevator would be bad. He started for the door at a measured pace.

[OOC: Catching Sandy up to the current IC time.]