PL IC Thread IX++ //Oddsbodikins & Atomic Kittens//

[Primordial Luxa]

After laying in bed for a bit, Sal decided it was time to meet a few of the people who lived here in The Building. Can't stay locked in my apartment for the entire time, he thought, slipping out of his worn out clothes. He quickly put on a clean outfit consisting of a white field shirt, a small sun hat, and a decent looking pair of pants. He went to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror before going out: he wanted to look decent, first impressions were always important to him. Giving himself a quick look around, Sal decided that he looked good enough to go out of the apartment and look around in the lobby first, maybe go to the Market District if there was nobody in the lobby. Better bring my wallet, don't know if it'll come in handy, Sal thought.

Exiting the apartment and locking the door, Sal went straight to the elevator, entered it, and pushed the "L" button. A nice little song played as the elevator descended, chiming rhythmically in a cheery tone that was extremely soothing to the ears. As the elevator dinged, opening up to the lobby, Sal couldn't help but wonder if he'd find someone nice to get with. He hadn't been in any sort of relationship yet, so he yearned for a chance to be someone's boyfriend. As he entered the lobby, he began walking around, looking at things, hopping either that someone interesting would pass by and he could start up conversation, or that they would come over, noticing him, and be the one's to start trying conversation. He really hoped for the second, he had always been really shy and didn't really know how to start up a decent convo with anyone he didn't already know. He waited patiently by the exit of the Building, looking through his book he brought with him.

Shortly after he entered the lobby a man carrying a paper grocery bag filled with bloody bandages and two empty bottles of Bactine came up next to him. The made was tossed the bag into a garbage can near him and gave him a weak smile "This isn't what it looks like" he said in a playful manner. The man was quite tall and walked with a limp which made him seem slow and gangly, he was mostly dressed in real and faux leather. His shirt was a black "Deathintegrassacure" shirt, a local metal band that was as bad as their name sounded, but its regular logo was hard to see through the dried blood. "Hi...I'm Robert." He then noticed Dan and slowly backed away his obvious shyness getting the better of him but not disappearing completely.

[The BranRiech]

"Pack up now? But I've only just sat down." Yuna chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, knowing from experience that any good food was the kind that could be eaten on the move if need be. "It won't take long for myself, though there are some valuables that I'd rather not leave behind, some of my equipment being an example." She sighed, referring to the various equipment of a medicinal nature that she had on hand, invaluable for her role as a designated healer.

"And no worries, Marcus. I can see why people don't really trust the Cultists' word, even I don't truly understand their motives sometimes." She acquiesced over another bite of the spongy cake. Yuna eyed the wine, eyes widening as she did as well. "Nearly forgot that alcohol is poisonous to us too." She said flatly. "Yet we still drink small amounts for ceremonial purposes, but none for Priests and Priestesses." She shook her head again, instead opting for a glass of water, the same she'd gone with the other night at the meeting in the very same apartment.

"My brother got drunk and almost got himself killed with one of his friends." Yuna rolled her eyes, glad that Octavian wasn't a part of her brother's life anymore.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"You're welcome. Now let's take a look at that device transmogrifier, I can upload some templates we already have that could heal humans since that is what we have the most data on, anything else needs a new template to fix without changing. Alternatively, I could alter the template to be inside out for lethal results. To destroy is easy, the hard part is putting things back together." He offered with a bit of advice as he awoke a data terminal on the wall, logging into their medical database.

"How many templates or forms fit on that thing? We can format it then fit as many alternative templates as we can, but you got to choose what the most common things you will be healing will be." he asked as he brought up generic genomes and body plans.

"And the OS is fine, it is just the data that is coming in that is messed up, just zeros and ones." he added, he couldn't help thinking he was missing something. He often missed the simple and obvious solution while enamored with the complex and convoluted.

[Zoblus]

"Hi, I'm Salvador or Sal for short, nice to meet both of you," he said, while putting the book back into his shirt pocket. He extended his hand out to Dan, noticing that Robert walked off after noticing Dan. He must not like him, thought Sal.

"Yeah, I'm new here, just got here a couple hours ago," he said after firmly shaking his hand. Sal tried to think of something interesting to say, and eventually settled on asking him about what Bielefeld had to offer in the way of fun.

"Since I'm new, I really don't know what there is to do here. What's interesting that's going on right now?"

[Tiltjuice]

"Hi, I'm Salvador or Sal for short, nice to meet both of you," he said, while putting the book back into his shirt pocket. He extended his hand out to Dan, noticing that Robert walked off after noticing Dan. He must not like him, thought Sal.

"Yeah, I'm new here, just got here a couple hours ago," he said after firmly shaking his hand. Sal tried to think of something interesting to say, and eventually settled on asking him about what Bielefeld had to offer in the way of fun.

"Since I'm new, I really don't know what there is to do here. What's interesting that's going on right now?"

His answer came in the form of a petite blonde carrying a large cardboard carton that stretched over her head. Like her sister in the other elevator, she was dressed in tan and gray attire; but hers carried a cross-hatch pattern defacing its sleeves and legs. She caught her foot on Sal's heel and stumbled, making a painful-looking landing on her knees; her palms crushed the box flat, sending reams of paper sliding across the floor with loud scraping and slamming noises.

"Sorry," Tasia said, getting up and beginning to pick up the heavy sheafs.

[Torsiedelle]

Hmm, healing templates? That was something that got Torii thinking. "Well, for one, obviously we should work on wounds like cuts, bruises, and burns; strong healing for those, regenerate tissue and whatnot. Bruises can count for stuff like internal bleeding, too, or head trauma, and then broken bones, soothing items for swelling, and what about rays that can affect the brain, like in helping a patient keep alert or relaxed. We could mark each one on a dial, with its own symbol or easy selection. As for how many modes this can have? Possibilities seem endless to me, but I like to keep a few around just because."

She fiddled around with the gun as she explained. "And we don't want to overburden it with too many modes. We need a few that will cover as much as possible, and still provide a strong beam to make it effective.

[Zoblus]

"Hi, I'm Salvador or Sal for short, nice to meet both of you," he said, while putting the book back into his shirt pocket. He extended his hand out to Dan, noticing that Robert walked off after noticing Dan. He must not like him, thought Sal.

"Yeah, I'm new here, just got here a couple hours ago," he said after firmly shaking his hand. Sal tried to think of something interesting to say, and eventually settled on asking him about what Bielefeld had to offer in the way of fun.

"Since I'm new, I really don't know what there is to do here. What's interesting that's going on right now?"

His answer came in the form of a petite blonde carrying a large cardboard carton that stretched over her head. Like her sister in the other elevator, she was dressed in tan and gray attire; but hers carried a cross-hatch pattern defacing its sleeves and legs. She caught her foot on Sal's heel and stumbled, making a painful-looking landing on her knees; her palms crushed the box flat, sending reams of paper sliding across the floor with loud scraping and slamming noises.

"Sorry," Tasia said, getting up and beginning to pick up the heavy sheafs.

"Let me help with you with that," Sal said, crouching down to help her pick up all the paper. The a heads were a bit heavy, but the years working in the fields with his father made lifting the sheafs a quick job. Picking up each sheaf, they both eventually managed to get them all into the back into the box within a minute. Standing back up from his knees, Sal looked at the girl and said:

"I'm sorry about that, I didn't have any intention of tripping you, just so you know," he said nervously. He wiped his hands on his shirt and remembering his manners, extended a friendly hand towards the girl and said, voice ever so slightly shaking:

"I'm Sal, nice to meet you"

[Giovenith]

"Of course," Giovenith rose from her seat and wiped the crumbs off her face, serious, yet gently pulling a small plastic container out of her pocket to pile cake in for later. "There really isn't any time to waste then."

Little by little at a time. First packing, then maybe a quick trip, solve the rest as it came along. Giovenith wasn't losing sight of the bigger picture, but she knew that trying to take in too much at once would serve only to scare and stress all of them.

"Pippa won't mind so long as I explain things to her," she continued, doing a little bit more to be a good guest by stacking the leftover plates and silverware into one pile at the table. "And if there's anything particularly precious we want to keep safe, the time to store it someplace else safe is now, so there's no rush if they come knocking."

[Mincaldenteans]

"Hi, I'm Salvador or Sal for short, nice to meet both of you," he said, while putting the book back into his shirt pocket. He extended his hand out to Dan, noticing that Robert walked off after noticing Dan. He must not like him, thought Sal.

"Yeah, I'm new here, just got here a couple hours ago," he said after firmly shaking his hand. Sal tried to think of something interesting to say, and eventually settled on asking him about what Bielefeld had to offer in the way of fun.

"Since I'm new, I really don't know what there is to do here. What's interesting that's going on right now?"

His answer came in the form of a petite blonde carrying a large cardboard carton that stretched over her head. Like her sister in the other elevator, she was dressed in tan and gray attire; but hers carried a cross-hatch pattern defacing its sleeves and legs. She caught her foot on Sal's heel and stumbled, making a painful-looking landing on her knees; her palms crushed the box flat, sending reams of paper sliding across the floor with loud scraping and slamming noises.

"Sorry," Tasia said, getting up and beginning to pick up the heavy sheafs.

"Let me help with you with that," Sal said, crouching down to help her pick up all the paper. The a heads were a bit heavy, but the years working in the fields with his father made lifting the sheafs a quick job. Picking up each sheaf, they both eventually managed to get them all into the back into the box within a minute. Standing back up from his knees, Sal looked at the girl and said:

"I'm sorry about that, I didn't have any intention of tripping you, just so you know," he said nervously. He wiped his hands on his shirt and remembering his manners, extended a friendly hand towards the girl and said, voice ever so slightly shaking:

"I'm Sal, nice to meet you"

"Dan," the Fae introduced himself to Sal and shook his hand. Dan took note of Robert being close by and gave him a friendly smile and nod in greeting. The Fae hoped he hadn't accidentally offended the newest person to show up, or interrupt his own attempt in acquaintance. There was something to be said about rudeness among the Courts; wars were started over less. But he wasn't there anymore and fickle humans were also quickly to forgive and forget. Sal's question had given him a moment's pause, wondering how exactly he was going to answer (albeit uncertain also where to start) as just moments before answering him, a young woman tripped over and sent her box of papers in a sea of sharp white angles.

"Oh my," he could only say and proceeded to help along with Sal. Three people at once! Past the Guild, Hunter and a few others he had initially met the first night in the building, this was a treat. Perhaps Aurora would be pleased to know something, or rather someone(s), were finally approached. Now to make it through on good terms, that was the key. He just wished he had his past open attitude, though some of that was to the credit of Cuisine's vodka ginger and the island at large; it felt like the Summerlands then and still did if he imagined it enough.

"Are you alright?" Dan asked after Sal.

[Tiltjuice]

Tasia's reply, when it came, was spoken in a low, lazy contralto that wouldn't have been out of place in a smoky back room mingling with rough male voices, on par with them in every way.

"I'm perfectly fine, Sal and Dan. Pleasure to meet you both!" A smile that exposed the barest edges of her teeth was counterpointed by the apparent guilelessness of light blue eyes, and a careless toss of flaxen hair. "I'm sorry to have run into you, Sal; unfortunately that box was blocking my view. I hope you're not hurt, as well; that would be a real shame." The innocent-seeming blue gaze swept over both men's heads in the gesture that marked her out as a current or former Conservator. "I assure you, I'm not nearly that clumsy on normal occasions."

The small scratches on the floor where her knees had made contact filled themselves in and vanished without a trace. Some might have thought it fortuitous, wearing redesigned chainmail using interwoven metal strands instead of rings; others might have considered her paranoid or eccentric. Given her experiences, however, "reasonable" took on a new meaning.

[Mincaldenteans]

Tasia's reply, when it came, was spoken in a low, lazy contralto that wouldn't have been out of place in a smoky back room mingling with rough male voices, on par with them in every way.

"I'm perfectly fine, Sal and Dan. Pleasure to meet you both!" A smile that exposed the barest edges of her teeth was counterpointed by the apparent guilelessness of light blue eyes, and a careless toss of flaxen hair. "I'm sorry to have run into you, Sal; unfortunately that box was blocking my view. I hope you're not hurt, as well; that would be a real shame." The innocent-seeming blue gaze swept over both men's heads in the gesture that marked her out as a current or former Conservator. "I assure you, I'm not nearly that clumsy on normal occasions."

The small scratches on the floor where her knees had made contact filled themselves in and vanished without a trace. Some might have thought it fortuitous, wearing redesigned chainmail using interwoven metal strands instead of rings; others might have considered her paranoid or eccentric. Given her experiences, however, "reasonable" took on a new meaning.

It wasn't until she swept her hair and stared back with her pair of topaz eyes that Dan blinked in surprise and smiled widely. "Chrys!" He greeted warmly with a quick but firm hug before moving off in a respectable distance. He tugged at his jacket as an after thought, imagery to be maintained in front of friends as much as strangers.

"Where have you been?" Dan asked politely with the same smile and continued, "I haven't seen you in... well, in a very long time! I didn't even recognize you, I sincerely apologize."

[Zoblus]

"I'm okay," Sal answered," just a couple of small paper cuts, nothing to worry about. Nice chain mail by the way." He had noticed the shirt of mail that she had been wearing and admired the craftsmanship of it. That's a strange design though, he thought to himself, observing the mail, interwoven metal strands instead of rings, wonder how that stands up in combat. He was surprised to see that Dan and the girl, whose name appeared to be Chrys, knew each other, though he reasoned that they obviously knew each other longer than he had been here. Shrugging it off, he stood back as the two embraced in a warm hug. Remembering though what he was asking Dan before the trip, he continued:

"So, what is there to do here in Bielefeld? I'd like to have a bit of fun before I go out to find some work." Taking out his wallet and lifting it in the air, he said:

"This won't last me very long"

[Tiltjuice]

Tasia took a step back so that she stood at equal distances from Robert, Sal and Dan, smoothing down the uncovered fabric of her attire. The gesture served as much to bring her back down to Earth as it did to avoid revealing who she really was, and what she was truly capable of, any more than the single sweeping glance over Sal's head already had done.

"I think you're mistaken, Dan - my name is Tasia. I imagine you've had the pleasure of meeting my twin sister, then. You can tell us apart by our voices, if it helps - hers is lighter and higher, more musical." Her voice was at its lowest point, with a very slight ragged edge to it in response to the unexpected contact, but she recovered quickly to the breathy purr of before.

"There is one thing Residents could do for work here in Bielefeld, but it is a commitment. Dan here knows something of what that's like; and if you'd like to know more, you're welcome to meet us in the bar section of Chaos across the street after I drop off my box of paper."

She shot one more smile with a hint each of challenge and coquetry at him, before turning and vanishing with a soft whispering noise. A breeze blew along as if drawn by sudden acceleration, and the faint clatter of footsteps on the staircase at the other end of the lobby echoed down to the three men.

[Highfort]

Septimus let out a breathy sigh just as the cab arrived, a slight moan escaping his lips as she stole a kiss from him and confessed love that he never thought he'd find reciprocated from anyone. As they entered the cab, he recalled for a moment their awkward meeting on Dyste and could only offer a small smile at how far they'd come. If only he'd known then just who would steal his heart - not the carrier of the whip who molded him into a monster but the healer who would help him find redemption - perhaps he would've revoked his earlier statements on the folly of belief in fate or some sort of guiding force in the universe.

The cyborg politician hummed as the cab wound its way through the city, inhaling the fresh smell of the construct's hair as the cabbie complained about the various inevitable problems that were arising for his kind in the city as fearful politicians and citizens alike began to close their fingers around the collective abhuman throat. Septimus was pulled away from his joy as he pondered the slow shuttering of jobs for abhumans, no doubt part of an extended effort to get them to work in Newhaven's guarded facilities if Thirteen came to pass.

As they arrived at the building, Septimus bid the man good day with a reassuring smile and a nod, "I'll do my best. This should all blow over soon enough, you'll see. Just like a bad dream."

He hoped that if he repeated that lie enough, one day he'd wake up and find it the truth. Years spent repeating such small lies for good test scores in the Schola bode ill for his hypothesis, however. But then, this too was pushed from his mind as he once-again focused on the woman of the hour.

Rubbing Neste's shoulder as they walked past the lobby and up the stairs to his apartment, he murmured softly, "I do hope we have the same thing in mind - would be quite embarrassing for me if we didn't."

Arriving at his apartment door, Septimus punctuated the soft whisper with a gentle lick of the construct's ear as he fumbled for his key. Just as the door slid open, out popped none other than Sentia, licking her paw as she slipped past the couple before turning to take a better look.

An odd meow was offered, then a tilt of the head, and then she was off. No doubt her caretaker had plenty to do with the lizard and, judging from their close proximity, the undead cat did not want to be around for such activities. She figured it was time to pay the giant robot in the basement a visit, if he was willing to accommodate her.

Septimus ushered Neste in without further word, the arm on her shoulder snaking down to caress her waist as he pulled her into another long kiss. The door shut softly behind him and suddenly the urgency he'd felt outside evaporated. The kiss lingered, chaste and warm as it was, and he felt a new urge to take his time and enjoy the last few hours before someone would no doubt be outside his door harassing him to come give a speech or some kind of rally for the abhumans after his election. These last few moments ought to matter - had to matter. The cyborg closed his eyes.

Pulling away from Neste to guide her to the bedroom, Septimus' lips returned to offer small kisses on her cheeks and down her neck before whispering her name into her collarbone.

[Austropia]

For a moment the corners of Rowan's mouth flickered into a smile before her face promptly turned bright red. "

"Nice to meet you Chrysanthe. My name's Rowan." Her eyes sparkled as the landed on the Roman sword at Chrysanthe's side. "What a beautiful sword! Do you use it often?" The kindred of the sword made Rowan relax a little. "I'm up on floor 9 if you ever want to spar. I just arrived today. I'd appreciate the company if you wanted to stop by sometime." She made room for Chrysanthe in the elevator as the doors slid shut behind her.

"More often than I'd like - and please call me Chrys." Her smile dimpled her cheeks as she tried to set Rowan at ease, seeing the flushing on Rowan's face. "I use it less often than I did in times past, though. It's an original weapon. And thanks for the invitation as well; I was just on my way to the roof to take in the sights. Things may be different very soon, you see."

An original weapon? Thoughts danced around Rowan's mind. Could she mean the sword was not only in roman style, but was as old as that great empire that had stretched across the european continent all those years ago? Impressive.

"Do you mind if I join you on the roof? I haven't gotten a view of the city yet. My plane landed through a cloud bank so I couldn't see what the city looked like."

What did she mean that things may be different soon? Perhaps some event was going to happen in the next few days. She hadn't had time to read up on Bielefeld holidays. What ever it was, maybe her life's purpose would begin to solidify there. Rowan liked Chrys. It was comforting to have a friendly face talking to her so soon after her arrival to the city.

[Primordial Luxa]

"I'm okay," Sal answered," just a couple of small paper cuts, nothing to worry about. Nice chain mail by the way." He had noticed the shirt of mail that she had been wearing and admired the craftsmanship of it. That's a strange design though, he thought to himself, observing the mail, interwoven metal strands instead of rings, wonder how that stands up in combat. He was surprised to see that Dan and the girl, whose name appeared to be Chrys, knew each other, though he reasoned that they obviously knew each other longer than he had been here. Shrugging it off, he stood back as the two embraced in a warm hug. Remembering though what he was asking Dan before the trip, he continued:

"So, what is there to do here in Bielefeld? I'd like to have a bit of fun before I go out to find some work." Taking out his wallet and lifting it in the air, he said:

"This won't last me very long"

Robert moved a little closer to study Sal's wounds but tried not to look like he was ogling the man's wounds. His constant worrying about people and there health spread even to strangers he had just met. He couldn't stand to see anyone in such a state. One of his cousins bothers best friends had gotten a horrible infection which caused his lungs to collapse after getting a very similar cut minor cut while cooking. So with as much sincerity as he could must he asked "Do you need any anti-infection for that?"

[Tiltjuice]

"More often than I'd like - and please call me Chrys." Her smile dimpled her cheeks as she tried to set Rowan at ease, seeing the flushing on Rowan's face. "I use it less often than I did in times past, though. It's an original weapon. And thanks for the invitation as well; I was just on my way to the roof to take in the sights. Things may be different very soon, you see."

An original weapon? Thoughts danced around Rowan's mind. Could she mean the sword was not only in roman style, but was as old as that great empire that had stretched across the european continent all those years ago? Impressive.

"Do you mind if I join you on the roof? I haven't gotten a view of the city yet. My plane landed through a cloud bank so I couldn't see what the city looked like."

What did she mean that things may be different soon? Perhaps some event was going to happen in the next few days. She hadn't had time to read up on Bielefeld holidays. What ever it was, maybe her life's purpose would begin to solidify there. Rowan liked Chrys. It was comforting to have a friendly face talking to her so soon after her arrival to the city.

Up on the roof, the mid-afternoon sun cast its light and warmth in a muted yellow. The sound of the lift doors closing was far away and muted in favor of Chrys pushing open the door to the outside.

"This feels so much better than being cooped up indoors, wouldn't you say? My friend often uses the roof to smoke, and to clear her head," she said, by way of explaining the multitude of cigarette butts scattered about the concrete. She'd decided not yet to mention the troubles that she felt were on the horizon, judging that bad news in Bielefeld wouldn't sit well with Rowan. There was a way, of course, as there always was, but she felt capable of crossing that bridge when she came to it. From the top, the Fish Market could be seen in the middle of its highest activity time slot, surrounded by colored spots. The closer ones of these could be recognized as works of art - paintings and murals alike; and the covered food courts next to them teemed with crowds.

"There's quite a lot to do here, and it's a far better place to live than most." Chrys' smile turned wistful for a moment, before returning to its original cheery state. "So what brings you here?"

[Swith Witherward]

Minerva was smiling as she tugged the belly wrinkles from her uniform. "Thanks Dora. That means a great deal to me. And thank you, Luce, as well. I'll be in touch. But now I've got to visit a few more places before tonight's rally. I'll show myself out."

It was always easier to shoulder burdens when there were extra shoulders to take off some weight. Minerva was conscious of her luck in finding the Conservators, and the Guild. Good people. Good purposes. The same couldn't be said of her own pantheon but, in her own small way, Minerva had managed to pull her cultists away from the normal obnoxious ways and held them fast to military traditions and discipline.

She pressed the elevator call button and allowed the notion of retirement to flutter through her mind. It wasn't the first time she'd had this thought. Charumati could get on fine without her. What if she did pack it in, just for a little while. An extended holiday that kept extending?

No, Purna sighed from within, there is no such thing once daemon and host clasp hands. Not for you. Not for me. We're stuck, toots.

Minerva wasn't so certain. She stepped into the elevator car and leaned against the back wall, and realized that she had found herself a new quest: independence from her pantheon.



"Right," Marcus nodded at Giovenith. "Gather a few things and meet me in the lobby in an hour? There's room in the truck for a bunch of things, if people don't mind carrying it up stairs once we get there."

He licked a frosting blob off a knuckle and then folded his napkin, placing it on the table next to his empty plate. "And since I don't have any packing to do, Sandy you want me to get these dishes?"



FUBAR squeezed down the maintenance corridor and arrived at Neste's apartment. There was physically nothing for it here yet the space was home, and the odd creature inhabiting it was friend. The fern recognized it and granted it access, and FUBAR sought the far corner where the sunlight trickled through the garden window. There it squatted to ponder the unease that had come over it in the pool room.

It wasn't entirely Drone. FUBAR wouldn't kid itself. The sun rose and set over three thousand times as it stood sentry duty in front of the Building. During that time people came and went. Those that came always wanted the same: power. Power through the Drone's advanced knowledge, or power through FUBAR itself. It was for perhaps this reason that FUBAR felt disgust for the obnoxious child as she fawned over its parts in the pool room. It was only by the will of the corruption inside it that her head remained affixed to her body.

"She's as welcome here as truffle butter stains on the couch," it grumbled in hope that the things controlling the apartment would hear and heed, should she come knocking. FUBAR was in no mood to engage in further dialog. (And, judging by its vernacular, had obviously been spending way too much time with Scel.)

The Drone powered down auxiliary systems and began its afternoon diagnostic.



"The same thing in mind? I suppose we'll have to find out," Neste flashed a coy smile as her hand slid across Septimus' lower back. The weight of his own hand emboldened her, and did his attention to her ear once they reached his door.

She caught a brief glance of the living room as Sentia slipped out, and she cherished the recent memories it brought to mind, but then her focus was on more urgent matters as he drew her to him. The door closed. His muscles relaxed under her touch and she realized that he was coxing her to slow their pace. They'd skirted this moment for so long, each of them tap dancing around this possibility. She would follow his lead now, matching whatever tempo he chose to set for them.

Her hand swept onto his shoulder and then traveled up his neck to explore the soft hair atop his head. Fingertips brushed against the scars marking the processor's location, and for once she was glad the thing had fallen silent. Her thoughts were on him, and how much she had come to love him, as they teased each other with kisses. She tasted the salt on his lips before parting her own to appreciate the sweet flavor of his saliva. She willingly followed him down the hall.

Neste paused at the bedroom door - forbidden territory for a construct. The warmth of his body pressing against her back and the indication of his desire making itself known against her buttocks spurred her along, and her delight grew as he seared kisses across the nape of her neck. Neste slipped off her shoes and nudged them aside before stepping into the room, then turned to grasp his hand to coax him along. A mischievous giggle rose up from her, but the lilting sound gave way to warbles and trills as she shifted from her human form to a more comfortable construct shape.

"The last time I was in here, it was to shove my tail under your mattress," she laughed as she stepped into the sunlit space; it was his choice to leave the window coverings open or not. Neste released Septimus' hand in order to shrug off her summer dress.

The scales along her spine welcomed the light, and she couldn't help but smile at the memory of his exploring hands in the library. There wasn't any reason to pull away from each other now, though. Nor ever, she reminded herself. They were liberated, in a sense. No social constraints. No bullshit from their superiors. They were free to do as they pleased. At the moment, Neste wanted nothing more than to feel his smooth skin pressed against her own, and to savor the sensation of his weight upon her. She turned away from the sun's warmth and approached him to spread kisses along his neck and jawline.

"I'll do my best to shield my... self," she murmured into his ear, "but as some point, I may not be able to. La petite mort causee par l'esprit construct. Pleasure and emotions intertwine."

[Highfort]

Neste's soft kisses pulled Septimus forward but, for once, he insisted on restraint. The moment had to last, he wasn't sure he'd ever get one like this ever again. Hell, if he got one half as tender and loving as this, the cyborg could confidently die a happy man. Shifting to adjust himself as she pressed against him, Septimus let out a soft growl of approval as Neste transformed from her attractive human form into the lizard that he had desired ever since those shy, fateful days on Dyste.

Her laughter snapped him out of the reverie of lust that had taken him over and reminded him that the bedroom window was open. In a rare case of defying Confederation social custom - which would have dictated it be closed so that public sensibilities would not be offended, Septimus ignored the open window. If there was a problem with him loving one as graceful and wonderful as her then that was not his issue. He had no inclination to hide his passion for the construct before him.

"Let go, Neste," Septimus nuzzled the construct's neck as she murmured into his ear, "Let me feel, please..."

The final word came out slightly trembling, with a note of desperation to it. His scarred body met her bumpy, scaled skin upon the bed and his hands found the familiar back that he'd been so eager to explore in the library. Having learned from that experience - rather rare for the man who, socially, tripped over his own shoelaces repeatedly before ever figuring out to tie them - the cyborg avoided the upper ports and danced his fingers gracefully around the lower ones, his hands winding their way down the curve of her back before ending at her buttocks.

Prolong the moment, he warned himself.

The hands snaked back up to uncap the ports and grace them with the touch of bare skin, hoping to elicit the same intense gaze she'd leveled upon him in the library. Something about the gesture left him inexplicably weeping, and salty tears fell upon her face as his head met her shoulder and he began humming quietly, fingers still running along bare skin.

Enough prolonging, he suddenly felt the urge to hasten the pace and fell upon her with a gaze that morphed from gentle to raw.

Septimus raised the lizard up to reposition her on the bed before falling upon her with murmurs of sweet nothings in her slender, reptilian ears. He trembled at the pleasure that rose within him as his hands snaked from back to front, hoping to repay Neste the favor - clumsy and untrained as they were. His movements were slightly stiff and a blush of shame and passion graced his cheeks as he attempted to learn in a mere few minutes what Ophelia had denied to teach him over the span of several months, nearly a year.

Sweat broke out on his arms and legs at the fervor of his movement, determined not to disappoint the only lover who'd ever seen him as a person rather than a body or a machine to be used and then thrown away. He licked his lips before locking them with hers, falling forward onto the bed as the pace quickened. Sweat dripped from the ends of his silver-streaked hair and he let out several guttural bellows as he felt a wave come over him.

And thus, Septimus the cyborg and Neste the construct moved together and united beneath the waning sunlight of the afternoon.

[Zoblus]

"I'm okay," Sal answered," just a couple of small paper cuts, nothing to worry about. Nice chain mail by the way." He had noticed the shirt of mail that she had been wearing and admired the craftsmanship of it. That's a strange design though, he thought to himself, observing the mail, interwoven metal strands instead of rings, wonder how that stands up in combat. He was surprised to see that Dan and the girl, whose name appeared to be Chrys, knew each other, though he reasoned that they obviously knew each other longer than he had been here. Shrugging it off, he stood back as the two embraced in a warm hug. Remembering though what he was asking Dan before the trip, he continued:

"So, what is there to do here in Bielefeld? I'd like to have a bit of fun before I go out to find some work." Taking out his wallet and lifting it in the air, he said:

"This won't last me very long"

Robert moved a little closer to study Sal's wounds but tried not to look like he was ogling the man's wounds. His constant worrying about people and there health spread even to strangers he had just met. He couldn't stand to see anyone in such a state. One of his cousins bothers best friends had gotten a horrible infection which caused his lungs to collapse after getting a very similar cut minor cut while cooking. So with as much sincerity as he could must he asked "Do you need any anti-infection for that?"

"No, I'm fine," responded Sal, looking at the small cuts on his fingers. He was still preoccupied though with what the mysterious woman, whose name turned out to be Tasia, had said regarding finding work. Confused, he turned to Dan and asked:

"What did she mean by that? What's this commitment she talked about?" He pondered a bit, and eventually decided that maybe he would do whatever it was that she suggested.

[Primordial Luxa]

The little foreign girl raised an eyebrow. This guy was a surveyor? She looked surprised, and happy. "Oh, to see public opinion?", She clapped. "Excellent, yes! I'd love to give my opinion on city politics. What do you have for me?", She asked.

Primordial looked down at his clip board acting like he was reading something before asking. "Well first off are you or have you ever been and Abhuman or Meta-human? Also what is your stance on proposition 13? In addition do you have any major comments on either side of this argument?

[Torsiedelle]

The little foreign girl raised an eyebrow. This guy was a surveyor? She looked surprised, and happy. "Oh, to see public opinion?", She clapped. "Excellent, yes! I'd love to give my opinion on city politics. What do you have for me?", She asked.

Primordial looked down at his clip board acting like he was reading something before asking. "Well first off are you or have you ever been and Abhuman or Meta-human? Also what is your stance on proposition 13? In addition do you have any major comments on either side of this argument?

"Am I, or have I been Abhuman?"

Jasmine shrugged and popped her neck. "Nope, I'm just a mundane, powerless human, as far as I know. As for my stance on Proposition Thirteen? I'm strongly against it. I don't understand the hatred against Abhumans anyways; I came here BECAUSE of the Abhumans. They're fascinating, and I'm glad to know some of them. I also believe that since this is a free country, that any measure to segregate, discriminate against, or in any other way push abhumans and mundanes apart is a terrible idea."

That was her main stance on it all. She brushed her hair aside and hugged herself out of habit. "As more comments, I think that politicians and citizens who want to do this to abhumans, a good deal of which have done nothing, and in some cases have even saved them, should be ashamed of themselves, and that I'm frankly appalled at the government's incompetence in swiftly and strongly cracking down on anti-abhuman violence. This is a developed, Western nation, not the Middle East. I expected more from them."

[Mincaldenteans]

"No, I'm fine," responded Sal, looking at the small cuts on his fingers. He was still preoccupied though with what the mysterious woman, whose name turned out to be Tasia, had said regarding finding work. Confused, he turned to Dan and asked:

"What did she mean by that? What's this commitment she talked about?" He pondered a bit, and eventually decided that maybe he would do whatever it was that she suggested.

"'She' happens to be right in front of us, Sal," Dan chided lightly, a mild frown settled upon his features while he fought to not cross his arms. Not that he intended to put the newcomer on the spot, but there were others and certainly they could be addressed as evenly without being dismissed. Summer manners; so different and so easy to take offense. Or was it simply all of the fae? Winter had their own codes and only the Queen herself knew what that code was. As it stood right now, it felt like a thin line between acquaintance and unfriendly neighbors now, Dan hoped he could sway it a different way.

"Or not..." Dan trailed off and blinked feeling suddenly embarrassed as he ruffled the back of his hair. He turned to the two men and gestured for then to heed her recommendation in joining them at Chaos. "Apologies, I... never mind. Your question, Sal. It's..."

How to begin? So much had already happened.

"It's... rather complicated, commitment is dependent upon your involvement. Some choose to be passive about it, a form of commitment that won't entail any risk to anyone but their part is still helpful; the other kind, of course, goes into varying levels of your participation," the fae answered without actually answering the question. It wasn't his fault, fae courts were rife with innuendos, implications, omissions and half-truths - but they were still the truth. He never practiced it actively, preferring the hard simple unfiltered honesty that was more dangerous to a fae than an iron bullet. It made him a target in the courts, Dan figured out after his exile, but it was a method he liked above all else.

Times in the city required caution, 'walls could hear', the residents were told and Dan wasn't about to take such risk in exposing details unless he felt safe to do so. He didn't recall any mention of Chaos being safe to prying eyes but the risk would have to be taken. Dan just wondered what safety could be provided aside daylight hours. The fae nearly sighed outwardly but stopped short from i case it put their newest residents at edge, not like the city wasn't doing so already. Things weren't the same anymore, safety was now a commodity to be sort, not unlike the fae courts itself. It was bargained in the courts, but here, there was no such bargains to strike, no negotiations. Dan could almost appreciate Aurora's lessons in fae politics, the dance would likely behoove him now.

"I think its best we move this conversation elsewhere," he suggested, looking to the two individuals. "Chaos restaurant as Tasia mentioned and from there we can provide a bit more details."

The walk was short. In broad daylight the three of them looked human enough not to warrant any suspicion, but the fae wondered if that kept them from peering eyes considering they were residents of the Building. The meeting would have to be short and concise, if only to bring them back to the safety of the building before nightfall. Entering Chaos, his eyes adjusted and was greeted by the host, he requested seats at the bar and was guided there without hesitation. Tasia wasn't here yet; he hoped she would be soon.

"Please, take a seat, order what you like. Don't worry about payment, I'll handle it," Dan reassured.

[Giovenith]

"Right," Giovenith nodded and stored the cake bin in her pocket, before giving Yuna's hand a quick squeeze and running over and giving Sandy a big thank you hug. "Thank you so much for all this! We won't forget it, I promise. See you guys in an hour."

With that, she carefully took her leave, making sure to slip out the door during a break in conversation so no knowledge would spill out into the unsafe halls. The walls still had ears after all, and it was doubtful which shadows could be trusted. Keeping that in mind, Giovenith took her short walk to her own room in silence, not even greeting her roomies until the door was closed behind her.

"Geometric puzzle!" Pippa-Michelle bellowed, seemingly coming out of nowhere and glomping the small godling. The top-grade, real hair made, auburn wig eternally glued to the golem's heady was frizzy, getting all in her creator's mouth and eyes.

"Was it nice?" Willow asked from his seat in his sleep space, sweater discarded and carefully running a bristle brush through his feathers. He smiled something smug yet friendly. "You see, dates really aren't that scary when you get over the first-"

"No time for that!" Giovenith interrupted to his surprise, gently pulling Pippa-Michelle by the hand over to sit on her bed. "I need to talk to you, both of you. It's an update about all that's been going on."

Attention grabbed, Willow flew over to sit beside the girls as Giovenith related what she had been told by Yuna and Marcus at the dinner with the Belas. Of just what it was 13 planned to do to them, how likely it seemed it would pass, and how her companions at the dinner had come to the idea of going into hiding.

" 'Newhaven'..." Willow hissed the word with undisguised distaste. "Bah! I've a better one. 'NewCaveIn.' They should call it what it is, the least they can do is not be a condescending rat!" And so that's what he decided to call it from now on. Slipping to her other side, he continued. "They just want to smoke us out, make sure we're all in one place until they figure out how they want to get rid of us. Nowhere to run but in the death trap!"

His humanoid roommate jerked at such a bluntly dark assertion. "Goddamn, Willow! Your mind goes to the grim pretty damn fast, doesn't it?" Alas, she had to sigh. "But you're probably right. No, you are right. Even if they weren't going to, to, I don't know, set the place on fire with us in it or something... it's impossible for any sort of population our size to be able to function in such confines. It already happens in real life, the place would be broken down, starving, and dirty in no time."

"Not to mention crime," the pony pointed out. "When people are desperate, they break the rules. When people break the rules, it's just considered proof that those people's restrictions are justified. If this passes, the result will be both hardship and more demonization to boot."

All this talk was beginning to scare Pippa-Michelle, even if she didn't fully understand all the details and meaning behind it. From what it sounded like, there were a bunch of bad fleshies out there who were going to put her and all the ones she loved in a dangerous place and hurt them. It reminded her of something.

"No Prague, no Prague!" she suddenly started to yell in panic. "Killed Josef!"

"Shhh, shhhh, we're going to protect you," Giovenith reassured her own golem, turning the supermodel-shaped creation around so she could begin to run a nearby brush through her hair. "That's why I came over, my friends have specifically said that they have a place for Pippa-Michelle to stay until we sort this out. You're going to be away from home for a little while Pippa, but you'll be with people who will be very good to you, and you'll have all your favorite things with you."

"Who's Josef?" Willow asked, raising an eye. He tended to take Pippa's ramblings more to heart than her own creator.

"Probably just something random from her papers," the teen dismissed. "We have an hour to pack, I'll handle doing up Pippa, you should focus on getting your own things."

This gave Willow pause, as he steadily looked around their room. There were still a few supplies he'd dropped in places upon returning from work at the festival, and his mind was suddenly filled with all the management and plans he had to do. So much to do with the duty he'd been given, so little room, becoming even less. Slowly, he sighed, and prepared for the nag storm:

"I'm not going," he declared simply, sniffing and turning his back to the two humanoids.

A beat of silence.

"... What?!" Giovenith snapped, stopping her hand mid-brush. "You have to come! Willow, this place isn't going to be safe soon."

"I know."

"They're going to force you into Newhaven if you don't come!"

"I know."

"What the fuck?!" The godling was having a hard time demonstrating just how absolutely blown her mind was right now. "What happened to all that talk about being run into the death trap?! You yourself said it's going to suck! What the actual fuck Willow! Are you doing this just to be a, a, a contrarian, or- what?!"

Deciding it was best to keep the cool and approach this gently, Willow calmly got up from the teenager's side and began to pick things up to load in a bag. The least he could do was help. "You can afford to go into hiding, I can't. There's still so much work to be done to help turn things around, and my place in that can not be done from a hiding spot."

"You're worried about your PW work?!" Giovenith hopped to her own feet as Pippa-Michelle looked on, mystified. "Willow, that ship has sailed, it's too late now. I'm sure you tried your best, but it just didn't work out, and now it's time to move on to the next route. You're not going to be able to do any of that anymore with the situation now, so if I have to go into hiding, you're coming too, and that's final."

"Mmm, no," the fellow artist contradicted quitely easily, continuing to keep his back to her as he focused on helping pack essentials. "If anything, the work is now more important than ever. We're clearly taking a nose dive, and the first step to making things right is what people perceive when they look in. NewCaveIn is clearly going to be an unfair dump, but we need somepony to prove it to the rest of the world."

Giovenith still couldn't believe what she was hearing, what the pony was suggesting seemed like utter nonsense to her, clinging on to a hope that simply was not there anymore. She was certain the Willow would be giving up far more than he was contributing, and wasn't keen on letting this flashing moment of blatant insanity be the end of him. "Do you have any idea what risk that is?!"

"Isn't hiding from the law a risk too?"

"At least they'd have to find me before they could touch me!" she countered. "You would be at their mercy. It's not a smart risk at all, not in the slightest."

"But it's not your choice to make, is it?"

Deciding it wasn't worth a fight in that direction, Giovenith took a deep, deep breath, held it, released, and thought of a compromise: "Look, at least just... give it some thought? I know we don't have much time to think, but it is on the spot." Frowning, she took a chance and wrapped her arm's around the pony's head. "I just don't want you to be a casualty number in all this."

Stubborness melted into understanding upon the godling's hug and words, and Willow felt some guilt in the hastiness of his word choice. It wasn't as if he didn't understand her points, it was just that he had done some thinking of his own over time and realized that it was pretty much impossible to play this game to win and not take risks. No change had ever come without risk. Maybe he'd regret it later, but that was still his own risk to make. Still... "Of course I'll think about it more, we still have a little time." It was more for her sake than anything else.

Giovenith released the pegasus and sighed, before pulling her hands up to her head. "Here, just in case." Lifting one of his hooves, the godling carefully placed her wing-leaf clip from her headband into it. "In case we get separated before we can plan, or if you ever want to back out of your choice and need my help. When that time comes, you'll know how to use it, and I'll figure something out. Hopefully we'll learn tomorrow that you don't need it at all and you can give it back, but until then, consider it my Blessing."

The abstract painter could tell that this was a blessing much heavier than simple 'approval.' Willow did not belong to Giovenith, he would forever remain a Son of the Sun Queen till he passed from this Earth, but that did not mean she could not cherish him as a favorite among mortals.

"Thank you," he nodded with a genuine smile and tucked the pin away. "Now, there is work to do for our Pippa girl."

The paper mache golem made an approving sound at the quick reconciliation, and together the friends pulled together enough bags to last a few days but remain inconspicuous. Dice were rolling in the great beyond, but until they settled on a number, they kept the fearsome clattering from their hearts and minds.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"The problem is the difference between healing a cut on your arm and a cut on your chest could be significant without a proper template. Before you know it all you need is a general template for one species... unless of course we fiddle with the revert setting a bit then you won't need a template for every species to work. A laceration on a human and a broken bone on a marmaquin could be fixed all the same with the setting." Neil brainstormed as he took out a box of wires. He took one out and plugged it into the terminal and he handed the two leads with alligator clips to Torii. He was picking apart the intern's suggestions and comparing it to the established research they had in the field.

"Although I don't know if you can affect brainwaves with it. Has anyone displayed altered behavior while under it's effects normally? Another concern is that it may not repair infections or genetic disorders, it needs further testing, perhaps on disposable subjects." He added. The latter concern was underplayed, as Arthur's afflictions indicated that overuse might cause DNA to corrupt. Although that could very well be specific to Raptortech models, infamous for being buggy.

At the back of his mind, the broken futurecast bothered him. What could the ones and zeros indicate? Something obvious he was missing as always.