Personification Life IC IX - [Semi Open]

[The BranRiech]

Slithering slowly from the Clinic, first came Toscha, followed by a bedraggled-looking Kei. They shared no words together, only a curt nod from one to the other, and both went their seperate ways. Kei was off to hang out in her room and meditate, while Toscha was ready for the day. He wanted to forget, more than anything, to forget the horrors of the previous events he had to fight through.

He slithered awkwardly up the stairs and into the dining room to find something to munch on.

Meanwhile, Drova and Yuna were starting to stir, both were back in their room.

Yuna took her shower, and then let Drova take his while she dressed for the day. Figuring she wanted dearly to get back into her routine, she went to a drainpipe in their kitchenette, and shouted a name.

"Will."

--

The bomb-shelter door slid open, and stayed there, showing that anyone who wanted, was free to drop by if they so chose. The Nikanors were busy putting a fresh-coat of paint on the walls, and the whole thing looked like a mess so far, with newspaper spread all over. Tolya was being kept in Rachelle's room at the moment with his sister, and Rylli was making quick breaks to check on them between painting.

[Torsiedelle]

Ah, damn Tora! She always took a left turn in that one hallway, always to end up crossing by some other rooms and the lobby before heading through to the clinic. It was a habit that she couldn't break, and she always bothered herself over it in the end. She almost didn't notice Flint passing her as she continued to the clinic, until she thought about why the woman's clothes were so messed up.

She took a U-turn and jogged up behind the girl, waving her hands wildly. "Hey, yo, Flint, wait up! Are you okay? I wanted to talk to you!", She said quickly and loudly. She wanted to make sure that Flint would acknowledge her.

[Monfrox]

Flint stepped and stopped, leaning back onto her other foot. "Что?" She asked, looking back. She saw Tora, but squinted. She looked familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She hadn't really talked to the girl that she remembered, so how did she know her name? Then again, she wasn't the best with people she barely knew. Didn't bother with the new Stalkers than ended up as psuedodog chow after just a few days, so it became a habit. She turned halfway to Tora and raised her eyebrow. "Что это здесь? Кто это?" She asked the girl.

[Morlodania]

Jorgen slowly awoke from his sleep, looking at the ceiling with his human eye sleepily. He really didn't want to get up, but logic dictated that he must, so he did, slowly. First, he, as always, began turning on his mechanical parts, his eye first, then his arm, then his legs, starting each of them up in turn, allowing them to warm up before he tried to move. After several minutes, he rolls out of bed, his parts whirring and hissing as he does. Coming to his feet, he went to his bathroom, brushed his teeth, combed through what hair hadn't been replaced by a machine, and sighed softly to himself. What was he going to do today, he wondered to himself as he dressed. Soon after, he went to the door of his apartment, slowly opening it. He pulled the door open with his human arm and walked out, shutting it behind himself. He walked down the stairs, having never been one for elevators himself, and went to the communal dining area, taking a seat at a corner table or booth, retrieving a book from his trenchcoat, and cracking it open to one of the pages close to the middle.

[Torsiedelle]

What? Flint didn't remember? But Torii remembered...she was excited to meet someone new, especially someone she could really relate to...

She responded in English. "Tora. Tora Dimitrov? Torii? I'm that girl Dia told you about, at least I think it was Dia. I remember you. I helped carry you in yesterday."

She turned her head curiously. "I wanted to get to know you better. I thought you'd at least remember me."

[Swith Witherward]

Slithering slowly from the Clinic, first came Toscha, followed by a bedraggled-looking Kei. They shared no words together, only a curt nod from one to the other, and both went their seperate ways. Kei was off to hang out in her room and meditate, while Toscha was ready for the day. He wanted to forget, more than anything, to forget the horrors of the previous events he had to fight through.

He slithered awkwardly up the stairs and into the dining room to find something to munch on.

Meanwhile, Drova and Yuna were starting to stir, both were back in their room.

Yuna took her shower, and then let Drova take his while she dressed for the day. Figuring she wanted dearly to get back into her routine, she went to a drainpipe in their kitchenette, and shouted a name.

"Will."

--

The bomb-shelter door slid open, and stayed there, showing that anyone who wanted, was free to drop by if they so chose. The Nikanors were busy putting a fresh-coat of paint on the walls, and the whole thing looked like a mess so far, with newspaper spread all over. Tolya was being kept in Rachelle's room at the moment with his sister, and Rylli was making quick breaks to check on them between painting.

"The cultist you are trying to reach is no longer in service," came a soft reply in Will's own crisp British voice. It lowered in pitch and took on a bawdy tone, "Please check your cultist and try your call again."

A pale hand thrust from the drain and latched onto Yuna's lapels. She was yanked off her feet and the drain expanded to swallow her whole. There was a furious display of prismatic colors and very loud music that might have been The Who or Cream and Yuna experienced a glorious moment that might have passed for a bad acid trip had she not been stone cold sober, and then she popped out of another drain, tumbled through the air and landed on a bed.

Will was sitting cross-legged on the springy mattress. A fancy silver tea set hovered between them. "Hello, Yuna," he poured out the tea and smiled at her. "Been a long, long while, eh? I've missed you, I have. What've you been up to? Help your old Uncle Will catch up on stuff."

He passed a cup to her and nudged the sugar bowl towards her. "Island and outings and bullies and taking on the NMJM. I'm impressed. We'll make a right proper cultist out of you yet, luv."

[Monfrox]

Flint racked her brain for information as she studied the girl. She certainly looked familiar, and she heard her name before, but where? It took a few seconds for it to click, but she snapped her fingers. "Ah! Da! Tora, was it? Привет! Как дела? Faring well, da?" Flint smirked at her, finally recognizing the girl for the one whose apartment she rummaged through once before. She'd never tell her she did it, at least not until she was comfortable telling her.

[Giovenith]

Salix babylonica, more commonly known as the weeping willow, is a medium- to large-sized deciduous tree, growing up to 20–25 m (66–82 ft) tall. It grows rapidly, but has a short lifespan, between 40 to 75 years. The shoots are yellowish-brown, with small buds. The leaves are alternate and spirally arranged, narrow, light green, 4-16 cm long and 0.5-2 cm broad, with finely serrate margins and long acuminate tips; they turn a gold-yellow in autumn. The flowers are arranged in catkins produced early in the spring; it is dioecious, with the male and female catkins on separate trees.

He'd never been afraid of the dark. Not even as a child. Whatever long arms others felt forming out to grab out and molest them had apparently always been quite considerate of his personal space. That was why the gloom of the lakeside he'd awoken beside did not immediately petrify him.

Like most members of the Salix genus, the tree needs plenty of water, and is thus often found growing near large sources of it, such as near lakes, rivers, in marshes, or other rainy environments.

The quiet, bouncy perfume of fresh grass and moss wavered about, wrapping the equine in ribbons of the scent, decorating him from hooves to feather tips. Willow gratuitously stretched his plumed wings out first, appreciating release of stale tension, before gently lifting his head from the velvety moss padding beneath him. He sniffed at a few stray puffs of plant stuffs, patted it away with his knee, and then slowly folded his wings back close as he took in the gloomy surroundings.

The grass was a cool enough green, dark but healthy, splashing the relative greyness of the area with a sober gleam of life. It stretched out as far as his eyesight could penetrate, ending only as it ran into the murky air of the beyond, and dipping down under to make way for the still pond before him. It was a pond. His flicking ears couldn't detect the drizzle of any alien source of water feeding into it. The only sound present was the sighs of the shifting grass crumpled beneath his laid-down figure, and the discreet breath of the long, melancholy willow branches brushing against each other by the will of a wind he could not feel.

The tree plays a popular role in the language of flowers most often as a symbol of mourning, sorrow, and sometimes death, hence the name "weeping."

Willow only took a few moments to neutrally observe the long, droopy, overhanging branches of his namesake before making his way to the pond itself, soft ground muting the clops of his gait. The ground took a very sudden drop where the water began, and thus there was very little mud around the edges for him to avoid.

However, the tree also takes on a variety of other uses in symbolism. It is often used to evoke intuition, insight, deep emotion, imagination, inspiration, clarity, and dream energy. Due to the ease of its planting ability (one branch can easily grow into a full tree), it can also symbolize life and rebirth alongside death.

There were ripples, very small ones, presumably created by the same intangible wind blowing through the trees, though Willow found that the crystal clear water was still collected enough to glaze his typical uncanny expression over the padded dirt of the shallow bottom. The whole thing was a mirror that managed to shimmer faintly under the bleak, dim sky, standing in a graceful juxtaposition to what the mind would have one initially react to so much... grey.

Contrast did not promise opposition though. Willow found himself breathing the moist air deeply, closing his eyes while he did so, silently searching for how he was supposed to take all this in. Or at least how he wanted to. Part of him felt the beauty of the vision, part of him considered danger, and most of him did not care one way or the other. The solemn pegasus could be just as brightly neutral as the place itself.

One legend, for example, claims that the branches of the tree used to stand up perfectly straight, but now hang in sympathy for the ill-fortuned fates of two star-crossed lovers.

He tapped the water with a front hoof.

Despite naming and popular belief, they do not originate from Babylon.

The water exploded. It exploded up. With a thunderous whoosh it seemed to purposefully separate itself into every individual droplet that had fit into the dug-out and shoot upward into the sky until they were unseen, sending an unprepared Willow flying backward in shock. Now-open icy blue eyes scanned over the now-completely dry ditch that had once been a pond, then rolled upward and narrowed at the dark, blank sky.

Three.

Seven.

Twelve.

The water fell back to Earth as yard-long, crystal clear spears, pinning the screaming pony to the dirt and shredding him to bits as the willow tree laughed.

Willow awoke.

He was covered in Polaroid photos.

Pippa-Michelle had somehow snuggled her way into Giovenith's bed (which was, notably, not occupied by Giovenith), and was sadly snapping pictures of her hands, legs, face, chest, the walls, the bed, the ceiling, a then-sleeping Willow, and anything else the sloppy lens handiwork caught, with the godling's Polaroid camera. The golem carelessly threw every photo aside, littering the entire floor.

"Geometric puzzle..." Pippa sighed, despondent, and hugged the camera close.

Willow shook his head and rubbed his eyes, vowing wordlessly to never drink outside of cider season ever again, then stepped out of his little blanket nest and took a look around. He was home, so was the golem, but indeed, Giovenith was not. But if he had just woken up, it must be morning... had she already gotten up?

"Where is Giovenith?" the pony asked Pippa-Michelle, looking to the side with a flat expression.

"She wants to go home, but nobody's home, that's where she lies, broken inside..." Pippa-Michelle whimpered, turning over and wrapping the fleece blanket over her.

"She didn't come home?" That didn't sound good. The teen had been all excited about a night out with friends, and although Willow had previously trusted her to not get out of control with it, he was now beginning to wonder if something drastic had happened to the girl. Most likely she was at a friend's house, but still, worry knotted his core, usurping the knots from his recent nightmare. "Hmm." He looked down with a concerned look, drawing his forelegs together stiffly in thought.

Willow quickly threw on his bracelets, ignoring his sweater now for time's sake, and hastily flew out the door and down to the lobby to find someone trustworthy to ask about the godling's location. Perhaps Rudolf, or her friends if he saw them, but Lady Luck kissed the pegasus as he immediately found the exhausted girl slumped asleep in the lobby itself. Now how...? Silly girl. Willow flew over, hovered, and gently nudged her.

"Giovenith, Gio," he urged quietly, prodding the groaning girl up with his front legs. "Come on kiddy, up. What are you doing down here?"

Giovenith mumbled something unintelligible, only semi-realizing what was going on around her. Some sleep received or no, the night and events of the previous day had left the godling wiped, and frankly, rather cranky and upset. She weakly pushed Willow away and rolled back over, not understanding what he was thinking trying to wake her up now.

Willow puffed loose black mane from his eyes in bemusement, looking around and catching a worse-for-ware looking Toscha out of the corner of his eye. Were there other teens asleep in lobby aside from just Giovenith, this would have added to his suspicion that he had missed one hectic night.

"Giovenith," he continued to prod, mostly because he wanted to leave attempting carry her as a last resort.

[Torsiedelle]

Flint racked her brain for information as she studied the girl. She certainly looked familiar, and she heard her name before, but where? It took a few seconds for it to click, but she snapped her fingers. "Ah! Da! Tora, was it? Привет! Как дела? Faring well, da?" Flint smirked at her, finally recognizing the girl for the one whose apartment she rummaged through once before. She'd never tell her she did it, at least not until she was comfortable telling her.

Torii's face had twisted into a somewhat hurt, confused look, but now it immediately shifted back to an energetic, happy smile, and she seemed very happy. "Yea, yea! I'm not doing so well, but better than others, and I really wanted to known if we could hang out together, because you seem really interesting, and we're kind of similar, and you're a cool older girl, or woman, or whatever, and I don't wanna be around my normal friends at the moment."

Like a little girl, she was standing on her tip toes now, smiling. "So, can we maybe hang out somewhere?"

[The BranRiech]

"I'll just try la-"

Nevermind, getting sucked through psychedelic pipes usually trailed off whatever you were saying, and Yuna was no different. She was deposited on the bed, and she looked over to see Will sitting there, relieved that some other Cultist wasn't going to be the one to greet her. "Hiya, Will." She huffed, a bit taken aback by the impromptu journey she just took through time and/or space.

"Well, you already know most of it, then, we got in a fight, fought with eachother afterwards, and now aren't. I just figured I haven't been back for training recently, and I . . . Well I want to keep going."

She blushed at the compliment, and filed it away in her mind.

[Swith Witherward]

"I'll just try la-"

Nevermind, getting sucked through psychedelic pipes usually trailed off whatever you were saying, and Yuna was no different. She was deposited on the bed, and she looked over to see Will sitting there, relieved that some other Cultist wasn't going to be the one to greet her. "Hiya, Will." She huffed, a bit taken aback by the impromptu journey she just took through time and/or space.

"Well, you already know most of it, then, we got in a fight, fought with eachother afterwards, and now aren't. I just figured I haven't been back for training recently, and I . . . Well I want to keep going."

She blushed at the compliment, and filed it away in her mind.

"Of course we can keep going. We might do more of it here. Well, there, in Bielefeld. Because you're not in Bielefeld at the moment. Although you are, somewhat. In a fashion."

He added sugar lump to his cup and swirled it around with a finger. "I was hoping you'd want to continue. I have something coming up that I could use your help on. But those details are sketchy even to me, and I'm not sure if it'll pan out or not. It all depends on Time and Fate and tuna." Which is to say it all depended upon kickstarting some things on Sunday, but Will was just as much in the dark as this writer is currently.

"In the meantime, part of a cultist's job is to find ways to make things mesh again. Gods unravel fabric. Sometimes egos and hidden feelings unravel friendships. You can't weave fabric but you can mend broken bridges. That's why I brought you here. To mend the breaks in your group. Marcus and Torsi and Giovenith and Drova and Myra. Mend."

[The Factory of Spike]

Javert woke up to the smell of coffee. That was unpleasant. Coffee was not a smell he would ever grow accustomed to. Their had apparently been some sort of carnival yesterday. All he knew was that business had been nonexistent. Ah well, time to rustle up something to drink. Tea. Strong. No sugar. Minimal cream. What he wouldn't give for a nice cup. Actually, the list of things he wouldn't give was very long. And the list of things he would give was pretty short. He had to stop trying to apply logic early in the mornings.

Javert walked down the stairs to the communal dining area, got his tea, along with bacon and toast. He didn't like eggs. He also procured a paper and began to read. Life for him was finally beginning to resemble some form of its old routine. That was good. He didn't like chaotic things. They were to messy. Which was why he was so uncomfortable with these cultists everyone talked about. Chaos was basically the absence of order, and order was something he relished.

[Altito Asmoro]

Raka entered the building. He is a new person here, trying to shaping his new way of life, as his old one was filled with dirtyness of crime and law. Years of being in police made him trained, disciplined, but also dangerous with weapons.

First thing first. He had a room in here now, and he needs job. He did had rented a place for his new place of living, a dojo with small zoo for panda. He went into his apartment room to spread out his belongings, as he brought many, including a pistol and a shotgun as well, and a training dummy for himself. We must always care for our safety.

[Primordial Luxa]

-

[Monfrox]

"Нуууу.......I guess. I was going to find new jacket and maybe undershirt too." Flint looked down at the numerous holes in her clothes, not to mention the large bloodstains around her pants. She looked like she was having a very intense time of the month. "Maybe new jeans would be appropriate." She muttered.

[Torsiedelle]

"Нуууу.......I guess. I was going to find new jacket and maybe undershirt too." Flint looked down at the numerous holes in her clothes, not to mention the large bloodstains around her pants. She looked like she was having a very intense time of the month. "Maybe new jeans would be appropriate." She muttered.

"Yay~", Torii thought to herself. She was still happy-go-lucky, despite Flint's current appearance, and she did notice it, too. Bending over slightly and walking around, she did see why Flint would maybe want new clothes. "Yyyyeeeaaaa....sure, I can help you with that. Maybe. I don't get out much. I have money, though; my sister is pretty rich, so I guess I am, too, not that I care for money, but she says that I should always keep some just in case!"

Suddenly, she popped back up, facing Flint. "You really were beat up bad yesterday. You almost died. I was really worried."

[Germanic Templars]

Barox, who slept at his worktable at the observatory, awoke on his other project that he was working on. He pushed the chair from the table and slowly stretched out as he breathed in deeply. Hungry, he shuffled off out to his vehicle in the garage and headed for breakfast.

----

Sapphire woke up in her bed with tissues around her. Her eyes red, and her ears back with her tail curled up close to her. She sat at the edge of her bed and thought about the carnival.

----

Instead of waking up at work or in bed, J'aluk awoke in the forest with several deer carcasses surrounding him with blood on his lip and only a small cloth that covered his male parts. "Oh no, not'a again." He moaned as he slowly got up. He then staggered back to the apartment.

----

Dr. Smith was in his lab through the night working alone, not paying any mind to the fun carnival outside, but even if he knew he wouldn't be able to go due to accidentally contaminating the lab and himself.

[Mandicoria]

It was early in the day, the apartment of Mandi Corrin, a new arrival to Bielefeld, was extremely cold. The type of cold that would make one see their own breath. The air conditioning never worked properly for poor Mandi, probably because the Mandicorian Government always gives below average conditions in their sponsored apartments. Mandi woke up in a frightened state, another nightmare about the war.

You see, Mandi served in the 55th Mandicorian-Scandavian War, one that many would call meaningless. Both nations adressed any comments stating that as foreign propaganda. What was the controversial casus belli? A Mandicorian military commander strangled a Scandavian over a "Hello Kitty" bag. Although he is a rather well-educated individual, Mandi believed that that bag was a legitimate cause of war. His experiences in the war caused him to start getting nightmares almost every night, and extreme emotional breakdowns.

Once he got up, he took as sip of water and looked into a mirror. "Today will be a good day, Mandi. Remember what you say, and you'll be fine." he said as he looked his reflection in the eyes. Suddenly his reflection appeared to be moving on its own "Sure, you will, try remembering that when you see Scandi. Moron." His reflection told him.
"You're not real. Not real at all...." Mandi sighed
"Whatever."

And with that, his reflection went to normal, Mandi just sighed and walked over to his drawer and pulled out his clothes to the day. As he got dressed, he thought if he should try seeing what the Government of Bielefeld is up to, or just slack off and chat with his friends back home, he chose to actually get work done this time. Once he got dressed he grabbed his water bottle and walked out, looking out into the hallways of the apartment complex he grew worried of Scandi being in the same area as him.

[Tiltjuice]

It was early in the day, the apartment of Mandi Corrin, a new arrival to Bielefeld, was extremely cold. The type of cold that would make one see their own breath. The air conditioning never worked properly for poor Mandi, probably because the Mandicorian Government always gives below average conditions in their sponsored apartments. Mandi woke up in a frightened state, another nightmare about the war.

You see, Mandi served in the 55th Mandicorian-Scandavian War, one that many would call meaningless. Both nations adressed any comments stating that as foreign propaganda. What was the controversial casus belli? A Mandicorian military commander strangled a Scandavian over a "Hello Kitty" bag. Although he is a rather well-educated individual, Mandi believed that that bag was a legitimate cause of war. His experiences in the war caused him to start getting nightmares almost every night, and extreme emotional breakdowns.

Once he got up, he took as sip of water and looked into a mirror. "Today will be a good day, Mandi. Remember what you say, and you'll be fine." he said as he looked his reflection in the eyes. Suddenly his reflection appeared to be moving on its own "Sure, you will, try remembering that when you see Scandi. Moron." His reflection told him.
"You're not real. Not real at all...." Mandi sighed
"Whatever."

And with that, his reflection went to normal, Mandi just sighed and walked over to his drawer and pulled out his clothes to the day. As he got dressed, he thought if he should try seeing what the Government of Bielefeld is up to, or just slack off and chat with his friends back home, he chose to actually get work done this time. Once he got dressed he grabbed his water bottle and walked out, looking out into the hallways of the apartment complex he grew worried of Scandi being in the same area as him.

On the seventh floor, there weren't very many people yet. Only Kale, Raka, and possibly some others that the writer is too rushed at the moment to look up.

A mass of red robes topped with a broken green halo moved past Mandi, just in case his handler's reply to this post came after Deader's handler had to leave.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Cerril woke up in his bed, a loud yawn escaping his mouth as he threw himself up and looked around. "I had the dumbest fuckin' dream last night..." He said to himself before leaving the bed and throwing on his usual green war skirt. As he tightened the knot holding the thing together, he brushed his fur and headed out to the lobby, looking around before grinning. "Anyone mind calling me when a royal entourage gets here? I'm expecting my son soon."

[Fraire]

Tsanis awoke in a pile of sand. He gasped as his eyes widened. It was his home. He hadn't seen this place in hundreds of years. He ran through the whole place. Suddenly, he saw his cottage. He could barely reach it...suddenly, everything disappeared

Suddenly, Tsanis awoke for real. He was in his bed and had his solid gold crown. "Gieves!" he called. A butler came in. "Yes, sir?" "Fetch me a handful of money. I want to take a shower...of money." "As you wish." The butler left. "This is the life", Tsanis said, kicking back his feet, which immediately fell off. Tsanis's eyes went wide as they started melting. Everything suddenly exploded. Torment and suffering from what once was happiness. "NOOOOOOO!!!" Tsanis yelled.

Suddenly, Tsanis awoke. "What a strange dream", he said as he got up. He was next to the door for some reason. He walked back upstairs to his apartment room and went in. It took Tsanis only seconds to notice something had happened. He ran over to his desk. "Somebody scattered all my papers!" He ran over to his bed and looked under it. "Somebody's tampered with my inventions!" He immediately inspected it closer. "Huuuuuumansssssss", he hissed as he noticed skin flakes.

[Giovenith]

Cerril woke up in his bed, a loud yawn escaping his mouth as he threw himself up and looked around. "I had the dumbest fuckin' dream last night..." He said to himself before leaving the bed and throwing on his usual green war skirt. As he tightened the knot holding the thing together, he brushed his fur and headed out to the lobby, looking around before grinning. "Anyone mind calling me when a royal entourage gets here? I'm expecting my son soon."

"Good morning, Cerril," Willow greeted off-handedly, words muffled by a mouthful of Giovenith's clothing as he pulled the girl up to a sitting position. The teen growled but didn't protest, rubbing her eyes and trying to adjust them to the light. She almost fell over back asleep, but was quickly caught by the pony. "Your son? Kind of handling my own 'child' right now."

Willow had gone through the trouble of waking Giovenith enough (way too many) times to know that it was equivalent to trying to wake up a six year old. At least during the times in a normal setting she was less cranky, as being passed out on the floor presumably all night had clearly made her. He wondered if it would have been appropriate to try to rouse any of the other teens possibly in the lobby as well (he already only felt vaguely responsible for Giovenith by virtue of living with her).

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Cerril woke up in his bed, a loud yawn escaping his mouth as he threw himself up and looked around. "I had the dumbest fuckin' dream last night..." He said to himself before leaving the bed and throwing on his usual green war skirt. As he tightened the knot holding the thing together, he brushed his fur and headed out to the lobby, looking around before grinning. "Anyone mind calling me when a royal entourage gets here? I'm expecting my son soon."

"Good morning, Cerril," Willow greeted off-handedly, words muffled by a mouthful of Giovenith's clothing as he pulled the girl up to a sitting position. The teen growled but didn't protest, rubbing her eyes and trying to adjust them to the light. She almost fell over back asleep, but was quickly caught by the pony. "Your son? Kind of handling my own 'child' right now."

Willow had gone through the trouble of waking Giovenith enough (way too many) times to know that it was equivalent to trying to wake up a six year old. At least during the times in a normal setting she was less cranky, as being passed out on the floor presumably all night had clearly made her. He wondered if it would have been appropriate to try to rouse any of the other teens possibly in the lobby as well (he already only felt vaguely responsible for Giovenith by virtue of living with her).

"Yes, my son... He's gotten uncontrollable back at home because he misses me so much and besides, he's a great conversation piece as well." Cerril added, a grin forming. "Not to mention it's hard to sleep without hearing his crying every night. I've got so used to it the quiet just irritates me. Who's your friend, if you don't mind me asking?" The Arkadat asked, a curious expression forming. Giovenith appeared to be a teenager... Odd. Where were the parents?

[Mandicoria]

-snip-

Mandi jolted back and almost went into a flashback of the war. Breathing a sigh of relief that not another one of those horrific things tormented him. He turned and watched the mass of robes move off, away from him. "Well, that was odd." Mandi said to himself.

--------

Scandi emerged from his bed, yawning, remembering his most wonderful dreams of Mandi. He remembered the good times they had in the war, for believe it or not they were once secret pals... Until Scandi killed Mandi's squad. That didn't matter to Scandi, for Mandi's squad was weak and had to be crushed! Scandi just sighed and slowly got out of bed, grabbing a small juice box in order to quench his morning thirst.

He, like Mandi, just arrived in Bielefeld only a day or so ago. They didn't participate in recent events, all they did was stay in their rooms and set up their things. The apartment the Scandavian government got for Scandi was extremely nice for him. Working air-conditioning, functional internet, and free cable! Quite the setup when compared to Mandi's.

The TV was on, going on and on about "the truce between Mandicoria and Scandavia is close to ending" and "They will most likely see war again in the future". didn't matter to Scandi, because even if a peace would last between them they could finally be friends again; or if Scandi won, they could still be friends! Just a little more forced. Since Scandi didn;t really care for this news, he just turned to the cartoon channels; Extremely racist, Scandavian ones mostly.

When his shows ended, Scandi was just finished with getting dressed and eating breakfast. He then turned off the TV, and walked out with his juice box. Wondering if he'll see Mandi, and have a priceless time.

[Giovenith]

"Oh yeah, kids, they're so, you know, cute and stuff," the Equestrian pegasus agreed half-attentively, as he rather liberally reached into one of the again-asleep Giovenith's dress pockets, and pulling out a bottle of water that seemed to be too big to have fit so inconspicuously in there. "This is Giovenith, she's my roommate and self-appointed bodyguard. She was supposed to go out with friends last night, and I found her asleep just now on the freaking lobby floor."

Willow gestured to any of the other passed out teens strewn across the lobby, all looking quite worn down and exhausted. He was, as of yet, clueless as to what they had done to wind up like this, but Willow was sincerely hoping they weren't the 'at-risk' type. The last thing he wanted to do was go all D.A.R.E. on their flanks, but he would if he had to. Willow wasn't Giovenith's parent or related to her in any fashion (well, no shit), but if she was, Celestia forbid, on drugs or drinking, the pony knew it would have been his obligation to alert her elders and take the appropriate measures. He was stiff like that.

He bit down on the cap, twisted it open, and then spit the white plastic thing to the side before gently setting it on the ground. "Giovenith, wake up and drink something."

"Mmmmshmmfffff..." Giovenith groaned, loosely pushing the pony away. "Freakiiiiin' gfffff..."