Personification Life, the Universe, & Everything [IC]

[Monfrox]

"I'm not sure I want to go there, right now. I think I just need some time by myself, y'know? Need to think about what I'm gonna do now that being a medic is out of the question. Not that I want to talk about that." Brit, once again, stared pointedly at Sandy for a brief moment before going back to her plate for another bite. "I've always been like that, really. I need my space sometimes. Need to sit down and collect my thoughts before moving on, but when that's done I suppose I could come visit. Sometimes we gotta do our own thing, Willow, for what's best for us."

Mon nudged Lidev's arm and thumbed to Dax.

"Gonna go say hi to the new guy?"

"I'd rather just get through this meal quietly, please." She replied, taking a sip of wine.

Mon shrugged and waved to him. "Come on, get it while it's hot!"

[Giovenith]

"That's fine Brit, I don't expect you to travel any time soon after all this," he said. "Just try to take care of yourself while I'm gone."

The tension between the two humans didn't escape Willow's notice. He thought back to Ford's comments about a long ago incident involving the two, but didn't feel it was his place to dig that up to the surface and try fixing it. It was as Brit said, she just needed time to be left alone.

"I know for sure that Giovenith won't let me go without her though," he told Sandy, smiling with a bit of fond exasperation. "She'll be damned before 'her' pony takes some big life step without her around to protect him."

[Northwest Slobovia]

"But to be honest, nopony else there has seen humans before, as far as I know. They'd still be pretty surprised by your appearance. If you want to come though, I would appreciate it... I'm not sure what I'll find there after being gone for so long."

"Need to think about what I'm gonna do now that being a medic is out of the question. Not that I want to talk about that."

Sandy was still running his fingers along his jaw, considering Willow's point, when Brit abruptly changed the subject. Oh, is that why she keeps staring at me? His hand fell into a conversational, palm-up gesture as he struggled for a reply. “'Out of the question'? Not necessar-- Oh... yes, perhaps another time.” He forced a smile to his nodding face, trying to figure out what was going on.

"I know for sure that Giovenith won't let me go without her though, […] She'll be damned before 'her' pony takes some big life step without her around to protect him."

Right! And back to Willow... His gaze shifted to the grey artist... sculptor, Amanda once said. “So, if Giovenith is coming...” His slow nod indicated that he was mulling that new information, and he continued to do so even as he tried the slice of goose on his plate. After drinking a bit of his wine, he finally replied. “Three of us at least, and – to the best of my knowledge – Giovenith has neither shapeshifting nor illusion magic, and so... would appear human. Without more magic or gear to hide her--

“Amanda's holocloak might let her pass for a while, um, if it can be adjusted that broadly. But I'm not sure how that would go over. I'm... not sure Pegasus is much of an improvement; his form is familiar, but he's a little big... and mute. I guess we'll have to see what sort of reception we get.” That brought a sincere and very broad smile to Sandy's face. New contacts with strangers were a fine way of judging a society; a good reaction would suggest the pony-people had a confident and open one.

Sandy's gaze fell on the godling near the door. After a pause, he looked back at Willow, and then at Sterling. “Any idea if your goddesses have any familiarity with the Olympians or Giovenith's pantheon?”

[Giovenith]

"Hey, don't worry too much. It may be a small town, but we've seen some pretty crazy things in Ponyville. Remind me to tell you about the time we met Cerberus."

It wouldn't be like in the ancient times, when ponies could barely handle being in the presence of other races let alone other species. Equestria had seen its fair share of mysterious and odd creatures, so although the humans had definitely stood out to him when he first saw them, Willow doubted there would be much fallout when it became clear that the towering bald monkeys following him around weren't out to shove bananas up everybody's asses or something.

Sandy's question caught him off guard, if only because it was one he'd never previously considered. He looked over at Giovenith and then back at the wizard.

"I don't know for sure," he said. "But according to Giovenith, most gods do know each other, and the princesses are known for their knowledge. It wouldn't surprise me if they did. But like I said, I can't exactly call them up and ask."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Holiday Feast

Meritari chuckled upon witnessing Sandy beat his wife to the punch and declare they would be having tēganitēs for breakfast the next morning. Before she could so much as applaud the idea, however, new life was swiftly injected into the rather quiet feast, with the first sign being the giant of a man who walked into the dining hall, dragging behind him a small barrel and various meats. Amanda spoke to him with familiarity, and the man soon revealed himself to be quite the jolly, friendly giant, contrasting with the intimidating aura that his height and numerous scars afforded him.

Two more figures soon entered the dining hall, a young woman with brown hair and a creature of a very similar kind to Sterling. Sandy recognized them, going as far as to comment how they had not met in years - which led the Kemetian to wonder how long they might have known each other for - and then engaging them in further conversation.

The woman she'd teamed up with during the snow fight a few days ago soon arrived as well, in the company of a man who, for once, seemed to be a novelty to everyone in the room as opposed to just herself. I suppose I'm not the newest resident around anymore.

She briefly thought of moving over to say hello, but with two women already addressing the man, perhaps it would feel too crowded for his comfort. Instead, she turned her eyes to the giant - Amanda had decided to head over to greet the newcomer, leaving the Norseman alone. "Hello there, Sigtrygg isn't it? My name is Meritari, a pleasure to meet you." She greeted him with a friendly smile on her face. "Are you a long time resident? I don't recall seeing you before, but Amanda clearly seems to know you."

[Holy Lykos]

Sigtrygg, properly oriented by Amanda, had already gotten a proper amount of food and drink and sat himself down. He had been in thought, the not too unpleasant look on his face as he ate away. Though a modern setting would probably find his manners odd, he certainly didn't lack them. But there was that certain enthusiasm of how he ate that set him apart as someone from a rougher region of the world. And the scarred norseman certainly was paler than Meritari by far.

When she approached, he nodded, finishing off the morsels in his mouth before responding. "Long enough, ja. Sigtrygg Karlsson Snjalli, at your service."

The giant glanced over her, smiling brightly. "By your complexion... a woman of Serkland?" The word, being a proper noun, didn't seem to properly translate. He seemed to realize this, and shakes his head. "Wait. Right. Timezone slang. From uh... The area south and west of Greece. Arid, plains, old empires, the enemies of the Romans?"

"I mention because the western inner sea was where I lived for a time before here. Serklanders were our biggest threat, mighty warriors and kings in their own right, but we were sworn to the Empire, not them." He shrugged, "Most at least."


Sterling, meanwhile, was simply listening in and eating what vegetarian offerings there were. Ah, the life of an obligate herbivore. He understood Willows desire to return to their home universe enough that he didn't question. It wasn't like they couldn't visit, anymore.

[The World Capitalist Confederation]

As his stutter began to return and his head began to ache, all he merely said was "Liebsturk..thank you." He put the babelfish in post-haste and looked around, searching the tables..He found beer, which he thought could help him out, but he didn't really like the cheap taste of beer, and then he found vodka, which he thought too strong for being consumed outside of his own house, and then, after a lot of digging, he found red wine, which he quickly sipped as he began to slip into normalcy again.

"I love the taste of wine..It'll never leave me." Dax said, as he continued drinking the wine with avarice, desire and famishment.

[Northwest Slobovia]

As his stutter began to return and his head began to ache, all he merely said was "Liebsturk..thank you." He put the babelfish in post-haste and looked around, searching the tables..

Amanda followed his retreating back, aghast. She put her hands on her hips and harrumphed. “How rude!” She shook her head and turned to the godling Dax had been talking to. “Is he from some sexist culture where men don't shake women's hands?”

"Hey, don't worry too much. It may be a small town, but we've seen some pretty crazy things in Ponyville. Remind me to tell you about the time we met Cerberus. […] "I don't know for sure," he said. "But according to Giovenith, most gods do know each other, and the princesses are known for their knowledge. It wouldn't surprise me if they did. But like I said, I can't exactly call them up and ask."

“Cerberus??” That stopped Sandy cold. “Hades' three-headed dog?” He leaned back, taking a long drink from his glass. “That makes it difficult to avoid the conclusion of some contact with at least the cthonic deities, if not the Olympians proper. But... who let him off his leash?” He returned to his meal, taking a bite of Amanda's sweet potato casserole and chewing thoughtfully.

After chewing a bit, he swallowed hard, then gestured with his fork as he spoke. “And how would he get to your timestream?” He took another bite, baffled. Perhaps the name is a coincidence? Perhaps. And perhaps some myths are just too weird to be true.

He found beer, which he thought could help him out, but he didn't really like the cheap taste of beer, and then he found vodka, which he thought too strong for being consumed outside of his own house, and then, after a lot of digging, he found red wine, which he quickly sipped as he began to slip into normalcy again. […] "I love the taste of wine..It'll never leave me."

Sandy's consideration was interrupted by Dax's frantic rooting around in the spare bottles of alcohol. He put down his knife and fork, washed down his casserole with his own wine, and turned to the newcomer. “There's wine already on the table, friend. If there's something specific you want to drink, just ask. There's a lot available that's not in sight. But please, pull up a seat and join us for dinner. There's plenty of food.

“I'm Sandy Bela, by the way, I see you've already met--” He caught Amanda's displeased expression, and sidelong death-glares at Dax. Oh, boy! It's not as though this party is awkward enough already. Sandy's cheerful tone flattened. “My, um, wife.” There was a short pause while Sandy figured out what to say next. “Say, where are you from?”

[The World Capitalist Confederation]

"I love wine..but honestly, where can a man get a Hemingway at this hour and place?" Dax yelled out in an almost monologue, although thinking afterwards that perhaps one should not consume hallucinogens at a public party. He then reflexively turned his head to Amanda.

"No. In the Empire, we do not shake hands unless it is to do deals. It is also imperative that- uhh...under social convention, one should not touch strangers, since intimacy is a form of, well, interaction." Dax rebutted, as his culture asks people to refrain from touching each other unless they're friends, lovers or family.

[Giovenith]

Giovenith blinked at Amanda in response, taken a bit by the sudden tension. Mrs. Bela sure wasn't one to waste time with rescue lines. To be fair though, she couldn't say she blamed her what the oddity of the new arrival... not that Giovenith herself was one to talk. At least, she hadn't been, a long time ago.

"He just moved here, he says he's a journalist," she explained, as plainly as she could manage. "We just had a brief chat about the universe and what-not. Nothing special."

[Northwest Slobovia]

"I love wine..but honestly, where can a man get a Hemingway at this hour and place?" Dax yelled out in an almost monologue, although thinking afterwards that perhaps one should not consume hallucinogens at a public party.

The Babelfish thoughtfully provided translation for Dax's usage of 'Hemingway', leaving Amanda to wonder whether psychedelics were legal in Bielefeld. Cocaine had been, but she had no idea if the law had changed over the years.

Sandy's eyebrows shot up: What culture does he come from?? What timestream? “This 'Hemingway' drug... are you looking for it for social, recreational, or ritual purposes? And, um, do you know what it is? If it's, uh, a plant or plant extract – or even something from an animal – it's possible it's available on Galli, and if it's, um, something synthetic, somebody should be able to make it. But... we'd need to know what it is.”

Sandy seemed to study the ceiling for a moment, blinked a few times, then looked back at Willow with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry about that. Where were--? Oh, Cerberus! Is your Cerberus a three-headed dog, perhaps with a serpent for a tail?”

He then reflexively turned his head to Amanda. […] "No. In the Empire, we do not shake hands unless it is to do deals. It is also imperative that- uhh...under social convention, one should not touch strangers, since intimacy is a form of, well, interaction."

Amanda tipped her head to one side and gave Dax a funny look. She seemed about to say something, but apparently thought otherwise. She did, however, take her hands off her hips and relax.

"He just moved here, he says he's a journalist," she explained, as plainly as she could manage. "We just had a brief chat about the universe and what-not. Nothing special."

Amanda did reply to the godling, though all she said was, “I see.” Belatedly, she added, “Thanks. Let's go sit down.”

Catching her husband's comments, she walked back to her place at the table, smoothing her skirt as she sat. She looked at Dax and spoke to him, her tone on the pleasant side of neutral. “Mr. Liebsturk, supposing your culture to be as you say, you may want to say that you think it's not proper for people to touch each other before walking away from them. There are many cultures and timestreams represented just at this table, and more on Galli and in the omniverse at large. People from many of them would otherwise be offended or confused by your reaction.

“As it is, the nasty-minded might say that it appears to them that you're making something up to cover for a faux pas. I can't imagine you'd want that sort of misunderstanding, would you?”

She paused for a second, perhaps to let that sink in, or perhaps simply because she was changing topics. She cocked her head at her husband. “I agree with Sandy. Also try looking for other people from your culture. We may be able to help you find them, if we knew where and when you're from.”

[The World Capitalist Confederation]

"I love wine..but honestly, where can a man get a Hemingway at this hour and place?" Dax yelled out in an almost monologue, although thinking afterwards that perhaps one should not consume hallucinogens at a public party.

The Babelfish thoughtfully provided translation for Dax's usage of 'Hemingway', leaving Amanda to wonder whether psychedelics were legal in Bielefeld. Cocaine had been, but she had no idea if the law had changed over the years.

Sandy's eyebrows shot up: What culture does he come from?? What timestream? “This 'Hemingway' drug... are you looking for it for social, recreational, or ritual purposes? And, um, do you know what it is? If it's, uh, a plant or plant extract – or even something from an animal – it's possible it's available on Galli, and if it's, um, something synthetic, somebody should be able to make it. But... we'd need to know what it is.”

"Well, you see, it's called absinthe- Why am I speaking in Saxonian? Do I even need to? I'm sorry, I've gotten so used to it because it's the international language of our world." Dax readjusted his head slightly, speaking in his native tongue instead. "It is made from a plant known as wormwood, mixed with several miscellaneous herbs. A 'Hemingway' is this added with champagne, which is an extremely fermented wine from a special place which the locals call, well, Champagne." Dax continued, enunciating the last word with a weird accent which sounds almost like the Earth's French. "I personally only drink a Hemingway when outdoors. I make a special variety I call a Sartre, after the philosopher known for sniffing mushrooms, which, as the name implies, adds strong hallucinogenic mushrooms. I have found it helps me in writing, as it makes me transcend to a higher plane of enlightenment. Many frown upon the drug's use, but due to its use by the upper echelons of society, the Imperial Government refuses to ban it, mostly due to influences from industry and nobility. I once covered the topic, firmly opposing the proposed ban." Dax finished, going on his tangent almost with passion.

Catching her husband's comments, she walked back to her place at the table, smoothing her skirt as she sat. She looked at Dax and spoke to him, her tone on the pleasant side of neutral. “Mr. Liebsturk, supposing your culture to be as you say, you may want to say that you think it's not proper for people to touch each other before walking away from them. There are many cultures and timestreams represented just at this table, and more on Galli and in the omniverse at large. People from many of them would otherwise be offended or confused by your reaction.

“As it is, the nasty-minded might say that it appears to them that you're making something up to cover for a faux pas. I can't imagine you'd want that sort of misunderstanding, would you?”

She paused for a second, perhaps to let that sink in, or perhaps simply because she was changing topics. She cocked her head at her husband. “I agree with Sandy. Also try looking for other people from your culture. We may be able to help you find them, if we knew where and when you're from.”

"I come from the planet Tuisto. Our land is one of order and justice under the Imperial Government. The Emperor, despite being ceremonial, still has a large amount of influence above wider society. The government itself, however, is a..for lack of a better term, Kafkaesque mess of bureaucracy and is wrapped up in so much red tape that they had to hold off production of red carpets because all the dye ran out." He joked, with the joke mostly being a local one about how even the rich and powerful couldn't navigate the hallways of power. "The civil service rules the country as the Chancellor has no real strength, even as nominal head of government. Not even the total will of the Reichstag could overturn the civil service." He continued. "You will often find my people taking in positions which aren't of manual labour, for that is of less advanced lands. We are tall, with large and nimble hands. Most of us have brown hair and blue eyes, although being blond or brown-eyed is also an easy sight of it. You can often tell someone of my type when you see them." Dax finished his explanation with a bit more eloquence that unusual, although it felt almost robotic.

[Giovenith]

Giovenith joined the others at the table, taking a seat next to a confused Willow, already becoming happier. She reached over and hugged her pegasus-pony friend, and offered a friendly wave to Sterling.

The sight of them hit her with a sudden memory though. Of how she had treated Sallow. Slowly, she looked downwards in guilt. What has been wrong with me lately...? she asked herself.

Willow cleared his throat at the slight awkwardness, before getting back on subject. "Well, it really wasn't that big an occurrence..."

---

"... three thousand four hundred and thirty six, three thousand four hundred and thirty seven, three thousand four hundred and thirty eight, three thousand four hundred and thirty niiiiiine..." Sterling adjusted his fez as he gently tapped his quill tip against the last brick in the road. "... three thousand four hundred forty!" Brightly, he straightened himself up and used his magic to check the final item off the list he carried with him. "Each brick on Fair Road firmly in place, no chance of anypony tripping."

He had spent most of his afternoon doing this, assigned to use his organization skills to make sure that certain structures around Ponyville were stable. The citizens of the small, earthen town had been at it since this morning as part of the impromptu call to 'disaster-proof' Equestria (though it was really more just Ponyville.) Why, how could a disaster happen on such a beautiful summer day in a place like their little town? Sterling wasn't sure, but being the fretful unicorn he could be, he didn't see any harm in making 100% extra sure. Smiling, he trotted off to meet the purple unicorn mare standing in the town square with a master checklist several meters long and handed in his report.

"I counted three times just to be extra sure!" he said, nodding pleasantly.

"Excellent." The mare kept her eyes on her own list, checking further items off as even more neighbors came to her to report their completions.

Sterling retreated amongst the crowd and took a deep breath, relieved to be nearly done with all this. His spirits were further lifted by a sudden loud fwap-whoosh and gust of unexpected wind that signaled the return of the pegasi. They appeared out of the upper sky and began to land all around the other Ponyville denizens, starting up casual conversation about the various things they had seen in their brief travel. As such, Sterling was soon joined by Willow, who seemed no worse for wear as he adjusted his bangs back from their displacement by the wind.

"Did you find anything?" Sterling asked, curious.

"No, we didn't find anything," Willow snapped peevishly, though his spite was not directed at Sterling. "We went all the way from Fillydelphia to Las Pegasus, and didn't find a single thing worth freaking out about."

"Oh," Sterling tried to smile reassuringly, lifting an eye. "That's good!"

"I guess!" Willow rolled his eyes and flared his wings, annoyed. "But I don't see why we all to waste our time, running around like chickens with our heads cut off, all because Twilight had a freaking dream!" He snapped a hoof towards the purple mare, who was too far off to hear his complaining. "Do you know how far I could have gotten on my commissions by now?"

"It wasn't a dream, Willow," Sterling gently corrected, floating his notepad and quill back into his saddlebag and pulling out a book. "She said she met herself from the future, who said that a disaster would come by Tuesday morning."

Willow was not impressed. He rolled his eyes again and nodded sarcastically. "Yeah, sure she did. I met my future self too, and he said that this is all pointless."

"Actually Willow, time travel is theoretically possible," the unicorn began to rifle through the thick book with his magic. "Of course we haven't made many breakthroughs yet, but some calculations were made in the early era that suggest if we consider certain alchemical waves as a biproduct of..."

Sterling quickly become lost an unstoppable wave of magicianal terms that Willow couldn't hope to understand. The pegasus stood there and blinked incomprehensibly for a few seconds before shaking his head and pressing a wing to Sterling's mouth to cease it.

"Okay, that's all fine and stuff, but do you actually believe it happened?" he asked. Sterling shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't think so. Look at this place, Sterling!" Willow raised a foreleg. "We didn't even schedule any clouds in the sky today. It's completely nice and normal. Twilight doesn't even know what her little 'disaster' is. I think we should all stop worrying, go home, and not bother with it anymore. And why?"

"Because, there's no disaster coming?" Sterling questioned, worriedly.

"Because there's no disaster com-" Willow tried to repeat, smugly.

"ROOOOOOAAAAAARRRRR!!!"

The unholy sound rattled the ground the ponies stood on and left their ear drums ringing. In one clean swoop, a shadow blocked out the sun and came down, landing with another thud that shook the earth and sent several ponies scrambling to the ground. The citizens of Ponyville were first hit by a wave of hot breath that smelled of sulfur and rotting corpses, then looked up to find the skyline blocked by rolls of massive, black, furry muscle. It all connected to not one, not two, but three twisted, canine faces, which each snarled rows of fangs as long as the little equines' bodies and drooled buckets of saliva which simmered upon hitting the ground. Six yellow and red eyes fixed on the ponies with malevolence, before the creature let out another massive ROOOOAAAR!! that audibly shook the shingles on the simple buildings around them.

The Ponyvillians stood, staring, petrified with shock and fear at the sight of the giant, three-headed dog. A brief moment of horrified silence ensued, nopony doing anything but staring, mouths agape, slightly trembling all over, before a high-pitched voice broke it.

"Okay, everypony!" A pink Earth pony marched herself seriously to the front of the frozen crowd, and lifted a foreleg in instruction. "Follow my lead: AHHH!"

The sound of her scream shook the others out of their stupor, and now everypony was screaming. A literal stampede ensued as colorful bodies scattered this way and that, slamming into each other without thought or reason as everypony made a mad dash for the nearest cover. They piled into the surrounding buildings, threw themselves into the river to cower beneath the bridge, or wedged themselves into barrels and carts if they weren't able to reach a door or window in time before it slammed shut. Only a few ponies remained to face the monster, who had began to wander the area with casual menace, sniffing the spires of the homes and shops and rocking their foundations in his destructive curiosity.

Sterling and Willow, for their part, had barreled into a nearby cafe shortly before the other unicorns there threw the tables and chairs against the door and windows with their telekinesis in a panic. They all huddled together there, peaking through the piled furniture to spot what was happening outside through the window.

"W-What is that...?!" Willow stuttered, a sentiment echoed by the frightened stuttering of the other ponies around him.

Sterling, being the most educated of the denizens there, had all eyes on him. The scholar was in no position to answer though, beset by a full-blown panic attack as he was. He didn't do well in mildly scary circumstances, so he certainly wasn't holding up now. His own stuttering had turned to wheezing by the time someone thought to throw a cold drink in his face, which brought him slightly back to reality. He shook his face dry and looked outside.

"Th-Th-Th-That's C-C-Cerberus!" he managed to get out. Shakily, he floated his book back out and rifled to a page to show the others. "H-H-He guards the gates of Tartarus, wh-where P-Princess Celestia... she imprisons ancient e-e-evil c-creatures there."

"Then why is he here?!" somepony asked.

"I don't know!"

Somepony else gasped in horror. "Twilight!" She pointed out the window, where they could all see the purple unicorn mare bravely approaching the three-headed dog, her horn aglow.

"Twilight, don't, run!" Willow tried to call past the glass. He was joined by everypony else, all futilely giving their panicked pleas for their neighbor to flee rather than take on the beast.

Cerberus saw Twilight Sparkle, and roared again. The ponies in the cafe covered their eyes. And then...

Nothing. There was no scream, not magical 'pew! pew!'s, no more roaring. Slowly, the ponies in the cafe uncovered their eyes to find Twilight unharmed and the beast rolled over onto its back. Had she killed it? No, it was still moving, it was... wagging its tail? They blinked, and shifted their gaze to see a yellow pegasus with a plush pink mane flying above Cerberus, her hoof rubbing against his belly as she smiled brightly down at him. Fluttershy!

A collective sigh went through the crowd.

THE NEXT MORNING

A knock pounded on the door of Golden Oaks Library, which interrupted Twilight Sparkle's frantic pacing. Distracted, but not wanting to be rude, she answered. "Hello?"

"For she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellooooooooooow!" The crowd of Ponyville neighbors, decked out in celebratory party hats and wielding various goods such as cards, posters, and even a cake, stood outside Twilight's door and collectively sang their song. "Thaaaaaaaat, nopony can deny!" They cheered.

Twilight blinked and frowned, still frazzled. "What is this?" There wasn't time for this.

"We came to say thank you for bringing Cerberus back to the gates of Tartarus," said Lyra Heartstrings, cheerfully.

"You did it, Twilight!" cheered Amethyst Star, rearing in excitement. "You prevented the disaster, just like you said you would!"

"So we all chipped in to get you this cake," Sterling Venture said, holding up the frosted delight with his magic. "As a celebration of your amazing planning skills! I couldn't have done better myself."

Willow cleared his throat as he soberly made his way to the front of the crowd, head slightly low. Under his wing, he carried a card. "And... I'm sorry I didn't believe you." He sighed, before handing the card to her.

She frowned, opened it, and found 'YOU WERE RIGHT AND I WAS WRONG' written in curly, cheerful calligraphy. She looked up again, visibly distressed.

"So, can we come in, or, should we take this party to the square?" asked Willow, smiling politely as he gestured behind him.

"Guys, that wasn't the disaster!" Twilight announced. "The disaster is still coming!"

The crowd gasped, taken aback.

"What?!" Willow's eyes widened. "What do you mean that wasn't the disaster, how could anything but that have been the disaster?!"

"I know it seems strange," said Twilight. "And I thought it was Cerberus escaping too, until I found a sign that the disaster is still coming!"

"What sign?" Willow was worried. Was it weird, unauthorized weather? Stirring from the Everfree Forest? A message from Canterlot?

"This!" Twilight gestured to her own face. The crowd had to squint their eyes and lean in to see what she was referring to. "I got this paper cut on my face, and it's the exact same paper cut that my future self had underneath her eye patch when I met her yesterday! We haven't changed the future at all!"'

Willow smiled at her, silent and expression blank. Slowly, he snatched the card back from her. Still smiling and staring, he crumpled it up, stuffed it into his mouth, carefully chewed it up, and swallowed. Then he turned around and flew off, Sterling frantic behind him, leaving the confused and disappointed crowd standing at the door as the sun rose.

He was so done.

---

"... and then the rest of the week was pretty normal after that." Willow concluded his story, casually snapping a carrot between his teeth. "So, Dax, you're new too, huh?"

[Northwest Slobovia]

Amanda listened to Dax's descriptions with interest, often nodding at proper names. After he finished, she gently poked Sandy and whispered, “Phone, please.” He slid it out of a pocket and handed it to her distractedly; Willow's tale was much more interesting than whatever his wife wanted the phone for.

Amanda flicked it on and started to look something up, then looked up at Dax for a moment. “You may be from a timestream like ours...” She squinted at something on screen. “...but the only hit I'm getting for Tuisto is a mythical founder of Germany.”

She dove back into looking things up for long seconds before giving Sandy back his phone; he barely noted it as he returned it to his pocket. “Champagne is a region in France in our world, and its wine is world-famous. It sounds like you've heard French too. 'Sartre' and 'Hemingway' are names of recent famous people. Absinthe is a drink we know too, though you'll have to mix it with champagne yourself. Sandy doesn't have the combination on tap.

“But I'm not sure where to go from there: Sandy's the historian. We could play twenty questions, if you don't call that rose by some other name.” A smile flickered on her face at the play on words; Dax's babelfish would do the heavy lifting of translating 'twenty questions', even if the allusion was lost on it.


Meanwhile, Sandy had been engrossed by Willow's story; if he'd had something to take notes on and with, he would have. His eyebrows didn't just leap at the mention of Tartarus, they leapt clean from his forehead, hovering above him momentarily in a way only possible in cartoons and Galli before settling back down where they belonged. “It seems both of you led interesting lives before coming to the Building. And you're not a bad raconteur, either, Willow.”

He stroked his cheek for a bit before saying anything else though, and shifted position twice, lost in thought. “I'm not sure what to make of the mentions of Cerberus and Tartarus. Our myths give two different versions of Tartarus, one a celestial prison, the other a place of divine punishment. The latter became associated with Hades – the afterlife -- which Cerberus guarded. Your description... well, your recital of Sterling's description... has elements of both.

Lapsing back into silence, Sandy returned to rubbing his cheek and jaw. “I'm hesitant to draw too many conclusions, but I... I'll hazard a guess that there's some connection between the two, though why is hard to explain. For all I know, it may be nothing more than some joke among the Greater Beings. Still, it seems worth checking into.”

[The World Capitalist Confederation]

Amanda listened to Dax's descriptions with interest, often nodding at proper names. After he finished, she gently poked Sandy and whispered, “Phone, please.” He slid it out of a pocket and handed it to her distractedly; Willow's tale was much more interesting than whatever his wife wanted the phone for.

Amanda flicked it on and started to look something up, then looked up at Dax for a moment. “You may be from a timestream like ours...” She squinted at something on screen. “...but the only hit I'm getting for Tuisto is a mythical founder of Germany.”

She dove back into looking things up for long seconds before giving Sandy back his phone; he barely noted it as he returned it to his pocket. “Champagne is a region in France in our world, and its wine is world-famous. It sounds like you've heard French too. 'Sartre' and 'Hemingway' are names of recent famous people. Absinthe is a drink we know too, though you'll have to mix it with champagne yourself. Sandy doesn't have the combination on tap.

“But I'm not sure where to go from there: Sandy's the historian. We could play twenty questions, if you don't call that rose by some other name.” A smile flickered on her face at the play on words; Dax's babelfish would do the heavy lifting of translating 'twenty questions', even if the allusion was lost on it.

"Interesting device you have there. I have something very similar in my pocket." Dax pointed out the phone, as he had something similar.
Dax pulled out a much larger device, which he called the "Pocket Database", because, unlike Earth phones, Tuisto phones were a lot more functional and less entertainment.
"I heard the word Germany, correct? I keep getting dreams of a mythical place known as Europe in which there are several nations: France, Germany, Italy, Poland, Russia, which at one point was called the "Soviet Union". They had arbitrary names and large far-off colonies. Many of my friends and contacts have said the same thing.

One theory, made by Pierre-Luc Champagnion, is that we are actually the afterlife of this..."Earth". Random people, leaning on the particularly intelligent and skillful, were taken here to live a new life. Since it was unprovable, until now, we couldn't really do anything.

Sartre...Hemingway...Those are some of the people whose identities had held, I presume, according to Champagnion's theory. I, myself, from what I could remember, was a great orator, strong man of the world, philosopher and revolutionary. There's this weird thing that happens after death, according to Champagnion's theory; you have a chance of going to Tuisto, but you also have a chance of disappearing and being replaced by an 'empty vessel' who does not go to Tuisto and may even change history.

It's odd, but I've interviewed him and it seems to have internal consistency. As for the names of Sartre and Hemingway, the former keeps yelling "I HAVE MY RADICAL FREEDOM!" every time I ask him about his alias or his past or what he did in the previous life. The latter prefers to write, and in rather simple terms too. Despite my middling rank in society, I know a lot. Sorry, I've been talking a lot." Dax explained, his words running away from him like a locomotive.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Holiday Feast

---

Meritari nodded at the Norseman as he introduced himself, smiling ever so slightly as her suspicions were confirmed - it only made sense, after all. As he moved on to question her origins, however, the smile was replaced by a thoughtful expression. Communication between people from different places of the world was already difficult, at least in her time and likely in Sig's as well - add to that different time periods and things become that much more muddled, even with the aid of a Babelfish.

Fortunately, even though she'd never heard of Serkland, Sig soon caught onto her confusion and corrected himself, making an attempt to convey the place he was referring to without directly naming it. Even then, had she been new to the Building, she likely wouldn't have recognized the names he mentioned, but Sandy's history lessons had helped quite a bit in that regard.

"Ah, yes, I come from what you call Serkland - at least, I think I do." The Kemetian started. "You see, I think I lived long before those empires you speak of, so I wouldn't know personally, but I've been told by those who lived long after me that my people grew to be enemies of these Romans, so we are likely talking about the same country." She explained. "My people called it Kemet, and I believe Sandy and Amanda's people call it Egypt."

The ancient woman paused to take a sip of her drink, and then decided to slightly change the subject. "So, you were an enemy of my people during your life? What were they like in your time?"

[Giovenith]

"So many connections, too many connections," Willow ho-hummed, taking a sip from the straw of his drink. He winced as Giovenith snuggled him. "Things just seem to work like however they work. I'm learning to accept things without too many questions."

"And he's not good at it," Giovenith added, pleasantly matter-of-fact.

"And I am not good at it," Willow confirmed.

"You're going home soon?" she finally asked, tentatively. Her hug tightened a bit.

Oh, well, here it was. No use delaying it. "Yes," Willow answered, carefully. "For a while, anyway. I'll come back." She didn't answer right away, shifting uncomfortably. He sighed and took up her hands. "Geo-puzzle, I care about you. But this is very important to me, do you understand?"

"Of course I do..." And she did. But still, she understood it when the others had said so too. That wasn't an excuse to not support Willow though, so she forced a smile. "I'll do whatever I can to help get you back settled where you belong." She turned to the others at the table. "You guys are coming to help too, right?"

[Monfrox]

Brit sat and listened to Willow tell his story about Cerberus, but also zoned out during it as her mind wandered back to where they had just come from. She fought off the urge to shiver and went for a dinner roll when Gio started talking with him. It would be sad to see Willow go, but he had been through a lot in a very little timeframe. If anyone had earned a trip home, it was him.

“I could go. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t lend a hand now and then? Besides, what the hell else am I gonna do. Sit in my room all week?”

[Giovenith]

Willow raised an eye at her. "I thought you said you needed time to yourself? Not that I don't appreciate it."

Unbeknownst to all, a mime started to creep around the corner of the doorway to the dining room.

[Northwest Slobovia]

"I heard the word Germany, correct? I keep getting dreams of a mythical place known as Europe in which there are several nations: France, Germany, Italy, Poland, Russia, which at one point was called the "Soviet Union". [...] One theory, made by Pierre-Luc Champagnion, is that we are actually the afterlife of this..."Earth". Random people, leaning on the particularly intelligent and skillful, were taken here to live a new life. Since it was unprovable, until now, we couldn't really do anything.["]

Amanda broke into a warm smile and chuckled fondly at Dax's description "If your world is the afterlife, what is Galli? Don't answer; I don't think anybody in this room can answer that, but a few could make informed guesses.

"Yes, those are places in our timestream. They're across the Atlantic Ocean from where Sandy and I are from, a city called Philadelphia in a nation called the United States of America. It's possible Monsieur Champagnion is correct. It's possible your timesteam is like ours: parts of our popular culture show, or were influenced by, information from other timestreams. One of them might even be one of our possible futures. Somebody on Galli doubtless knows, but not us."

She took a sip of her wine; her mouth was going dry. Then a bite of Meri's bread, which she washed down with more wine. She looked back at her conversational partner. "Why don't you fill your plate and have some dinner? There's more than enough to go around. If nothing you see is familiar, try a bit or ask us what it is."

She cut a slice of ham and ate it, then gestured with her fork. "Try this dish. It's sweet potato casserole, from where my family's from. It's very good." She put down her folk and picked up a bottle of golden liquid, with which she topped off her glass. "And this too. Flower wine from somebody's distant future."

"So many connections, too many connections," Willow ho-hummed, taking a sip from the straw of his drink. He winced as Giovenith snuggled him. "Things just seem to work like however they work. I'm learning to accept things without too many questions."

Sandy was taken aback by that. "Why would you want to passively accept things without--" He broke off, hearing the direction the conversation was taking. Good: stay bad at it. Keep asking, keep striving. The annoyed confusion on his face faded slowly, but the creases around his eyes never quite went away. Passivity is an attitude for a slave... or a slavish worshipper. Hmmm...

His gaze fell to his plate; he attacked his goose with vigor, then part of a biscuit, some veggies, and then Amanda's casserole.

[Giovenith] turned to the others at the table. "You guys are coming to help too, right?"

He raised his eyes and nodded to acknowledge Giovenith's question and Brit's answer, but he continued eating. Now that he'd really started, he realized how hungry he was.

After a bit, he finished his wine, considered his meal, and then conjured apple juice into his drinking glass. He looked up at Willow and Giovenith. "We said we'd come, but..." His gaze fell to Willow's plate, the middle of the table, and then his own dinner. "We may have our own difficulties fitting in. And we, um, don't know Willow's culture-- cultural norms. Helping may be beyond us. I'm... not even sure how we would reintegrate into our world, uh, other than the..." When he spoke again, his first word was pained; the memory bothered him. "...two... supers who might understand what we tell them."

He fell silent, then looked up at Willow. "Do you want or need our help? You seem to be an adult, able to handle yourself. It's... It would be rude of us to foist unwanted assistance on you."

[Giovenith]

"Because," Giovenith let go of the grey pony to clap her hands together in explanation. "Willow has anger issues when it comes to things that don't make sense to him."

"I do not," Willow shook his head, smiling at Sandy.

"Yes you do," Giovenith chided.

"No, I don't," Willow said a little more tersely, looking back at her.

"Remember the nudity-creating genderbender bomb and the pepto-bismal monster?"* she reminded.

"You still haven't explained that to me!" He raised his voice and gave the table a slight slam before realizing where this was going and backpedaling. "Ahem. Well, I wouldn't make any of you do anything you didn't feel like doing, and I could do things on my own..." He paused, thinking. "... but I probably shouldn't. I do, need to learn how to be... vulnerable, and accept support when I need it. I will be vulnerable when I go back."

Giovenith nodded, gently putting a hand on his back supportively. "The anger is part of the vulnerability thing," she explained to the others.

Willow grimaced. "Giovenith, I told you I don't have- is that a mime?" He abandoned the topic to point across the room.

Giovenith looked to where he was pointing to spot the pale, smiling figure mostly concealed by the doorway. It was dressed in pastel colors, and didn't seem to blink as it stared at them. "Wha-"

Faster than humanly possible, the mime sprinted over in blinding speed and buried a pair of scissors in the table where one of Giovenith's hands had been half a second before. Things temporarily went in slow motion for the godling as she leapt backwards from the attacker, reared up a leg, and gave the mime a sound kick that surprisingly sent her flying across the room as if it were no heavier than a box. The mime slammed against a wall — eyes closed as if passed out, but still smiling.

"What the fuck was that?!" Willow swore, flying up from his seat and preparing to rush the thing if it got up again.

"I don't know!" Giovenith kept an offensive stance herself, ready to fight. She looked closer at the figure, and realized something. "It looks like... me."

Ms. Prism suddenly opened her eyes and lifted her head, still smiling. The two roommates flinched.

Instead of getting up again though, the deadly mime slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out an antique-looking doll. It was modeled and dressed like a very ornate version of herself and Giovenith. She cradled it in the crook of her arm and pulled the long string on its back.

"Hee hee, you've got some apologizing to do, my fleshy counterpart, tee hee!" the doll chimed in an exaggeratedly high-pitched version of Giovenith's voice. Ms. Prism continued to smile and stare at her.

[Monfrox]

"It's fine. Just need some stuff moved is all, right? Not like we'll be there for a whole week or so. I'll have time to myself eventually." Brit waved the concern off, though she was hoping that what she said would turn out to be true. Fate had a funny thing of making her into a liar when she said she had time.

And then everything went completely nuts, for lack of a better term. An unknown assailant and a quick stab into the table and suddenly Brit couldn't remember ever getting out of a chair fast enough. Without a gun, she was highly considering getting her own from her room. Of course, the thing was smiling. And Gio had kicked it to the wall and it was still smiling.

"Is that nightmare?" Brit asked in a voice slightly louder than a whisper. "Is that true nightmare?"

Mon and Lidev merely watched, almost entirely not surprised at the dinner had been interrupted as such.

[Holy Lykos]

"Wiat.. not Serkland! Egypt, yes, that's it. I recognize that name!" Sig grins, and nods. "The Egyptians, far side from where I lived, in the land of the Greeks. I never visited it, but I heard it had wonderful ancient artifacts, I remember a friend of mine who carried around this..." He draws out the rough shape of an ankh. "I think it was an Egyptian christian symbol? He called himself a Copt, if I remember right. I feel bad I never asked him much about his homeland now."

"The Egyptians and we in the Greek marches fought occasionally. They own the island of Crete and launch raids against it, and sometimes we return them. Our main enemies though are usually the Muslims of Serkland, not the Egyptian Kingdom. They're Christian, like a good portion of southern Greeks and Spaniards, those Egyptians, but they seem to follow a different rite. Same god, but a different way of worship." He shrugged. "I don't know much about them, sadly, but they were a strong enough kingdom, and trade to India made them rich."

Though, their conversation was now interrupted by something quite bizarre. To Sig's mind, some sort of strange jester had been flung across the room, and was now staring creepily at an identical counterpart. "What in..." He mumbled, hand finding its way to the grip of his sword. "What is this new madness?"


Sterling, meanwhile, was just flabbergasted. He'd been calmly eating his food, and now Giovenith's counterpart arrived as a creepy mime? He froze for a moment, just trying to process this oddness. "... Why is she a mime?" Was just about all he could think to ask, pushing his plate aside and trotting over to join GIo and Willow. "Why does she have a doll of you, herself, you... You know what I mean!"

[Northwest Slobovia]

"Because," Giovenith let go of the grey pony to clap her hands together in explanation. "Willow has anger issues when it comes to things that don't make sense to him." [...several grafs...] "I do, need to learn how to be... vulnerable, and accept support when I need it. I will be vulnerable when I go back."

Sandy's consideration of what Willow ought to do was interrupted by something he Heard, and then Saw, but the conversation distracted him enough that he was far behind Ms. Prism and Giovenith, and the goddess in progress had already kicked her double across the room by the time he was on his feet.

Amanda, however, let her hand fall, slamming the wine bottle to the table – at least it didn't break, she thought – and trying for a cross-body draw before she realized that she was unarmed. “Shit!” When she recognized the creature as Giovenith's duplicate, her tone changed abruptly.

She got out a nervous “Sandy? What--” before her husband reached out to touch her protectively with outstretched fingers, his gazed fixed on Ms. Prism. “Naomi's handiwork. A paper person. Naomi's a... demi-goddess, more or less." Amanda knew the last; the explanation was meant for everybody.

“The doll's Naomi's work too. Not sure what it is. Be careful; Naomi's magic is crude but powerful.” Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at her weapon of choice. “Scissors cuts paper,” he recited in English before switching to Alexandrian Greek. “But water soaks paper.” The real people had babelfish to translate, the paper copy probably didn't.

Amanda caught his intent, and added in Academy French, “Fire burns paper. Matches in the kitchen.” She took a step backwards towards the kitchen, trying to keep Sandy between herself and the copy. What it didn't see couldn't hurt her.

Sandy nodded without turning: his casting was too slow for a fight unless somebody intervened first. Giovenith was probably more than a match for the copy, more skilled – at magic, at least – and likely more potent than Naomi's clone. Sterling and Willow added two more spellcasters. The Norseman probably could do the paper person a lot of damage, too. He nodded to himself: If it knew what Giovenith knew when Naomi made it, which seems likely, it knows it's in no position to do anything rash. The doll's a wildcard, though.

[Giovenith]

"You've been bad!" The doll-Gio exclaimed cheerfully as Ms. Prism stood up. "You made my pony sad. Maybe I should make yours sad?" The paper-girl held a hand to her lips, cheekily.

"You- You better back off, you creepy motherfucker!" Willow warned, raising his dukes.

"Wait," Giovenith held out an arm to keep Willow back. She had a feeling she knew what this was about. "Who are you, what are you talking about?"

Ms. Prism narrowed her eyes, but never dropped her smile. She pulled the string on the doll again. "Just because you're sad doesn't give you the right to mistreat us. We're not the kind of clones who stand by and get used. Come apologize to Sallow Slashes, now."

Willow looked at Giovenith with an inquisitive expression, and she looked back at him nervously before continuing to confront the being. "Did Sallow send you to try and stab me?!"

"Of course not, silly. He just told me what you said and I came."

"Then why did you try?"

The mime's expression shifted into a relaxed smirk. Another string pull. "Wouldn't you?"

The godling considered her pony again before sighing. Willow spoke up, "Gio, were you... mean to Sallow?" He didn't really see a reason to trust the paper creature, but his roommate didn't seem to be denying it.

She shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, I didn't hurt him or anything, he was just kind of annoying me, I was already upset, and... I guess I might have said some things I shouldn't."

The string was pulled. "You can all try to kill me if that's what makes you feel better. But you will not treat my friend badly and hear the end of it. We exist to help you all, but we stick together."

Giovenith nodded solemnly. "Guys, chill," she told the other guests. "She's right. She was just standing up for Sallow like how I would stand up for Willow... in a weird way." She stepped forward. "Where is he?"

Ms. Prism set the doll behind her back, where it promptly vanished into hammerspace. She kept her hand there primly and held her other one out to her real counterpart, offering to lead the way.