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

[The BranRiech]

The girl smiled back at the boy. "What's up?", She asked, "I was just working with the raptors. We made some good progress on a project I'm undertaking. You know, I normally wouldn't even be dreaming of a science career because I never even got out of elementary school?", She said, carrying on. "Thanks to them, I can do even better. Who needs an education, am I right?"

She kicked off and bumped his shoulder. "Anyways, where's Kale? Wanna hang out?"

"Actually just had lunch with Kale." Drova nodded, pointing back to his apartment. "She left about an hour ago, and Yuna seems to be packing some bags for some reason, probably just staying organized." He shrugged, unsure of what to think of his sister's various strange habits. He wasn't interested in the life of a Priestess, though she was obviously still his sister. "And yeah, I don't mind spending time with friends. It's definitely preferable to . . . Being alone, I suppose." He smiled, blushing somewhat.

[Primordial Luxa]

Primordial spent most of this day in conversation with Insidious and Aegis asking what was taking them so long. They were suppose to arrive several weeks ago but for some reason they were still being delayed. Aegis claimed that he was waiting for a malignant Nameless Siphon virus to erase all traces of him from the internet while Insidious blamed her tardiness on various demands Don Chappell was placing on her. Don was a very famous Luxan flesh sculptor who Insidious worked under and so she was constantly subject to work on his personal projects and commissions. Primordial told both of them to hurry as he didnt have much time to waste here and wanted to quickly begin work on all of their new projects which had been put on hold.

After speaking them he went to look at the various Meta-Mantra Cells which were stored in the DEiMOS's 7th wing. During the DEiMOS's breakdown last time they were in this dimension the entire Meta-Mantra wing had been released and had caused a large amount havoc inside until the other resident of the apartment had helped drag Aegis out. The whole ordeal send a shiver up Primordial's spine and he was instantly embarrassed by the show of fear, he resolved to get his spine replaced as soon as possible. When the creatures and humans had escaped from the Cells many had been killed by the rooms fail safes, while a select few were able to escape the room and explore the DEiMOS almost all of these were killed but at least half a dozen were able to slip between the cracks in the DEiMOS's surface and escape into Bielefeld.

However since he had left Primordial had totally restocked this room with a host of new test subjects, slaves, monstrous, warrior and other stranger creatures. Their was the infamous and surprisingly unique Nessie who started the fable of Loch Ness. He also possessed the body of the Strawberry Girl a petite thing whose name masked her real terrifying powers. In addition he had a group of Anti-matter clone, entities made out of living lighting, and a host of the worst murderers from alternate earths.

[Torsiedelle]

"It is."

Torii looked a little tense still. "I can't say I know Yuna as well as I want to. I've been working out lately, myself, cleaning my rifles, that kind of stuff...maybe it's a cultist thing for Yuna.", She shrugged. "But yeah, company is better than being alone. Sorry that Kale left. I feel kind of bad for ignoring it earlier; I made her mad, I think. We think differently. Anyways, let's hang out, then. My sister went out with a few people, too, so we got my place to ourselves, or we can take a walk outside.", She said. "Anything you wanna do? The day's not over yet, and it'd be a shame if I couldn't spend more time with friends."

[Monfrox]

"Whoa, whoa wait - GIEE!"

Brit twitched and jolted when Nick went under her shirt. She was ticklish, and the cat wasn't really helping. It wasn't his fault, of course. Coupling her sensitivity with her punch-drunkeness, she was pretty airheaded right now. Still, she had tensed up at the unexpected contact and at the image in her mind. Though, her head still hurt.

"Please warn me before you do that again." She asked in a light tone before she started pulling her hair away.

With Nick's help, now she could see the wound even more. Well...she couldn't see how deep it was, but it didn't look bad at all. A half a centimeter in a slight hook where the knife hit her. Alright, she kept cleaning and used her fingers to find it before turning back to the cat.

"There should be some disinfecting wipes or Neosporen in that plastic bag up there. I'll need that to help clean the wound before bandaging it. Oh man...walking around with gauze wrapped around my head all day...people are gonna think I'm an idiot when I tell them what happened."

[Northwest Slobovia]

Observatory and Emergency Back-up Aviary
Sandy was charmed by the teens' reactions to Plutarch: Marcus was nervous but fascinated, and Giovenith seemed delighted. Plutarch answered Giovenith with "Pretty girl! Pretty girl!" and a smartphone's standard ringtone.

"OK, OK, we'll start with Plutarch!" Sandy reached over to unlatch the side of the cage that served as its door, talking as he did so. "Plutarch is an African Grey Parrot, which means--" Plutarch interrupted him with a series of trills, and a fair imitation of his voice: "very smart and long lived".

Sandy's face held a complex expression: annoyance, embarrassment, and amusement, all at once. "Stop me if you've heard this before, Plutarch. Er, and he's very good at mimicry. Since he's only nine years old, he may live as long as I do."

"I'm sure he'll enjoy spreading his wings in your workshop here. And don't worry about the techomages. They come and go, so if you don't see one this week, chances are high that they'll run into you the next."

Sandy looked over his shoulder to answer Marcus. "Next week? Well, let's see if Proposition 13 passes first. Since I've moved some equipment here, I should be here for several days either way, but I expect that if Thirteen is voted down, Amanda will want to move back to the Building tomorrow. Even with the tunnel, we are at the edge of the city, which isn't the most convenient. The jeep is a new thing for us. Amanda used to take the trolley to work downtown, or bike in if weather was nice and she wasn't expecting to meet any clients that day. I tended to bike or walk to the University. So, while I'm happy meeting other spell-casters here, Amanda will want to return to something like normal urban living."

Plutarch barely waited for Sandy to unlock his cage, pushing the cage-side open, and awkwardly flapping into Sandy's arms. Sandy took a half-step back to let Plutarch straighten out, then cradled him in his arms. Sandy pointed to each of the teens, naming them for Plutarch. "Marcus. Maaaarcusss. Giovenith. Giovenith." The first Plutarch answered with "mmmaaa", and the second got a group of oddly mechanical-sounding whistles with an "eeoo" in the middle. "He'll get better at it the more he hears your names."

"If either of you wants to hold Plutarch, just hold out a hand, and I'll let him fly over to you. He's very gentle, he won't hold tightly with his claws, and while he may make like he's going to nip you, he's just playing, and won't apply more then friendly pressure."

After a short pause, Sandy remembered something Giovenith said. "Don't worry, I won't forget, Giovenith. While eating in silence isn't what I'm used to, we should be polite to our hosts and join them for dinner. I'll offer the left-over cake for dessert, though it'll have to be sliced thin if there's a big group. We can try the Wolf's Nose over dessert. Oh, say, Marcus? How safe is it at night around the Observatory? The city's considered too dangerous to go out after dark, but what about here? If it's safe enough, we can use the full suite of wolf spells and see if we can befriend a fox or a pack of wolves in the forest. One of the spells will make them friendly towards us."

[Cerillium]

"You're most welcome," the thade rumbled in response to Septimus' gratitude. "And my own people don't believe in supernatural things. Our religion is philosophical, not dependent on sky fairies or underworld demons."

Minerva scowled as Septimus touched upon Rodney's permission. It was Ocho that answered however. "Only two things in this universe free a construct from servitude, and one of them is death. She's property until one of those two things are met. She's a weapon and a tool, no different than a conscript sworn to protect and serve her nation. Before you all get your noses out of joint over it, consider the level of care they're given. Fed, housed, best of medical care, educated - endless. You see the lizard. You assume the lizard is the whole person. You don't see the rest of the lizard, or if you do, you assume her exoskeleton is a separate being. Higher constructs are dangerous, Septimus. You aren't asking permission to borrow a civil servant. You're asking to borrow a weapon of mass destruction."

He licked his lips. "An annoying, highly intelligent and self aware WMD that will take apart all your electronic devices, vomit fish bones on your pillow, claw your back to groom your head, steal your shiny things and hide them in a sleeping basket, and warble at you while you try to sleep. There is no physical way to reprogram them to be less obnoxious or inquisitive. I've tried. Oh lord, how I've tried. Personally, I find them endearing, but we won't mention that to Nila."

The thade folded both sets of hands across his belly and leaned back in his chair. "Rocks through a window," he reminded Amanda. "It wasn't burned, although several businesses, mundane and otherwise, did suffer worse than broken glass and looted goods. As for Sandy and the others in the Bielefeld legal system? Can't rightly say. Anything we do would set precedence. As for the Underworld? You won't be practicing law there. Neither will I. Lucifer makes for a good prosecutor, within his pantheon, but no one really cares what we mortals have to say. I bluffed and got lucky with Fram. But it was personal. Atosh and his forces have pretty much fucked me over since day one. It was revenge on my part. I thought Nila was a cruel tease on Chaos' part. I didn't realize she was actually here. I intended to leave the carnival to drown myself with booze but stumbled upon the fuck-up. Death by pissing off gods seemed the better option that night."

"Shush!" Minerva glanced at her watch. H-hour. She waved her hands to silence the chatter between Amanda, Septimus and Ocho. "James, turn on the telly."

The astartes moved to comply, his shovel sized hands turning down the radio and snapping on the old television. The sound reached their ears long before the vacuum tubes had fully warmed, broadcasting Mary the Anchor's voice to patrons gathered around it.

"The polls have closed across the nation," her bright, customary celluloid smile appeared first, Cheshire like, while the rest of the studio slowly filled out the scratch screen. "A Field Poll earlier today projected a new high in Bielefeld voter turnout for a general election, and the percentage casting vote-by-mail ballots reflects the same. Jeanine Martoni and Septimus Itum were projected as winners but the final tally, with all precincts reporting in, confirms that both the Agricultural and Market Districts have new Representatives."

Minerva lifted a hand to stifle the cheers. "Wait for it, Lads."

"We don't have a completed tally for the Industrial District, but Barry Hinks is outside Representative Martoni's campaign headquarters. We go li-"

The sound vanished. The patrons gasped and jeered, and the bartender laid a few solid thumps to the television for good measure just as the setting transitioned.

"- I'm outside Martoni's campaign headquarters," Channel 9's field reporter gestured to a small building behind him, "where Representative Martoni is set to give her acceptance speech. As you know, this was a competitive race..."

Minerva cared little for Martoni's battle. Her eyes were fastened to the crawl at the screen's bottom where a news ticker ran through various results. School levies, bond issues, more projections, and then came the most important news. The cultists inhaled as one once the words first appeared, and they exhaled in unified shout as the results were displayed: Ballot Measure 13 had been defeated by less than 20 votes.

Minerva threw her head back and laughed at the news. "James, you glorious son of a bitch, a round on me!"

The proclamation was met by fervent cheers from the cultists gathered therein. Someone pressed beer mugs into Amanda and Septimus' hands, and the cyborg was treated to several eager back slaps.

"Three times three," a portly cultist rose and lifted a glass to Septimus and his staffers, "hip hip -"

"Hooray!" came the response, and the eager sods offered two more rounds, glasses aloft in solemn toast, before the whole lot of them broke into varied cheers and catcalls.

The pub door creaked open, allowing in a rush of celebratory noise from the streets where Neste and Nila had apparently forgotten all about guarding things as they hopped up and down in a tight hug. Hans brushed past them. He removed his fedora and tucked it under an arm as he approached the table where Minerva and the others sat.

"I believe congratulations are in order," he beamed at his fellow targquest conspirator. "You really should head towards the park. I have a car waiting, but you won't get far. The streets are filled with revelers. I suggest walking. I'm here to offer additional security."

He needn't have bothered. The Wilting Succubus' patrons were more than happy to accompany the group.




The Observatory had become eerily still as priests trained their attention on their monitors, data pads, and other devices. Marcus mumbled that the grounds were fairly safe as he focused on the dining room's television. He, too, held his breath as the crawl announced results. The silence became nearly painful and the air electric as eager eyes affixed their gaze in anticipation of either hell or heaven breaking free.

And then Ballot Measure 13's results scrolled by. Anything the anchor or field reporter had to say was drowned out by a sudden explosion of noise. The noise in the dining room became deafening as cheers broke out. Even the Brothers of Progress, an order known for putting the Cistercians to shame, couldn't refrain from stamping their feet to add to the din.

"Giovenith!" Marcus could hardly be heard over the raucous. It didn't matter. His relieved tears told her everything. He swept the godling into his arms, laughing as he lifted her high above him before drawing her into a tight embrace and kiss.

[Highfort]

The verses struck Septimus as appropriate and the cyborg made a mental note - figuratively, this time, as his low-power processor was unable to properly store him the data digitally - to research more on this Nazi war period that seemed to come up in political conversation whenever oppression was brought up. A cursory scan of the Terran archives when he'd been diplomat had landed him some descriptions of genocide - not unheard-of, but he supposed by then Terrans had civilized and come up with basic rights - and a man named Godwin. Whoever this Godwin was, perhaps he could better explain the finer points of this period.

"It's quite easy to convince a strategist of this, but I doubt many will believe that we're sincere when we mean to unite," the cyborg replied coolly, a bit of warmth entering his voice as he nodded at Amanda's suggestions approvingly, "Still, I'm a politician, this sort of shit comes with the territory. I'll do my best, Ms. Bela. Hopefully the supers will be willing to heed a warning from mundanes and abs alike before we drown with them."

Ocho's comments on construct behavior and legal status first left Septimus annoyed, then slightly amused. The thade appeared to be rather smitten with his own little lizard and, as much as Septimus wished to protest the insistence that good treatment overrode the degrading position of Nifid constructs as little more than tools, the cyborg figured Ocho meant well. Besides, it was election day and the man had just handed him an envelope containing a bank statement which amounted to an obscene wad of cash. It would be rude and very stupid of him to return the kind gesture by sneering at the giant weasel for his opinions.

Besides, the cyborg thought, the man was willing to drown himself in booze when he was enticed by what he thought was a specter of his old friend at a carnival. Surely he cares more about constructs than his statements would admit on first glance. Besides, it's none of your business what your legal associate thinks in his spare time.

His thoughts were interrupted as the Captain cut into the conversation with an order to turn on the television. The old thing had clearly seen better days, and he was surprised that the picture was even coming in clear. Vacuum tubes were a bit of an oddity in the Confederation, though the static charm they produced had not changed one bit now that he was on Terra. Even the cutting of the sound seemed to the cyborg to be a small nod at a bygone era, though he was slightly annoyed that the picture was still fuzzying about as he and the rest of the bar attempted to read the scrolling text at the bottom. The results left him reeling.

"Thirteen lost?" he turned to gauge the room of triumphant looks and smiles, his lips slowly beginning to curve upward, "Thirteen lost! It lost! Ha ha!"

A surge of adrenaline coursed through him, the sort one gets when an encounter was too close for comfort. Under twenty votes, that was quite something. In the Confederation, that would've been cause for alarm and investigation into local voting patterns, but on Terra the new representative took what he could get. A close victory was better than a defeat by a long shot, and the cheers in the bar assured him of this fact.

"I don't believe I'll need additional security," Septimus flashed a genuine smile as he stood up and downed the beer before more of it could spill as his body was shaken by back slap after slap. The suit was hopelessly mussed, his hair was quickly descending into a state of disarray as revelers grabbed him and shook him with joy, and his sash had loosened considerably with tugs from pleased bar patrons. Pulling it off to fold and put in his pocket, the cyborg slowly sifted his way through the crowd toward the exit. Spotting Neste and what appeared to be another like her - perhaps Nila, the construct Ocho had mentioned - he laughed as he watched the two of them jumping up and down with glee.

"Neste!" he called out over the roar of the crowd as more cheering Market-goers poured into the street, making their way toward Memorial Park for the evening festivities and Septimus' speech, "Neste!"

He reached out to pull her into a hug before being lifted up by several of the bar's regulars, propped atop shoulders as he was carried toward the park on a wave of supporters. Letting out a yelp of surprise, the cyborg looked down to see the men and women holding him aloft offering him smiles and cheers of approval and decided to go with it. It was never too early to cultivate popular support, after all. Or that was what he told himself.

[Giovenith]

"Some dracolings are about the size of pet birds, so it doesn't scare me at all," Giovenith explained, tilting her head curiously at the beautiful bird and wondering if perhaps she had a spare snack or two in her pocket that she could give to it. "That's what my culture calls baby dragons, to clarify."

It didn't take long for the sudden wave of freezing hush to catch on to the girl, as she too turned her attention to the sudden anxiousness of the moment. She wasn't in shot of the television but the tensity of the room's inhabitants was contagious, pausing her bones into a kind of trembling stasis as they all awaited for whatever next signal would come. It wasn't very long, but the feeling none the less dragged on, as it was known to do when you had been pulled to a crossroads. Like watching the coin of fate flipping as it descended, down, down, upon their futures....

As just like that, the crowd exploded. It startled Giovenith at first, but she was quick to catch on to the news that backed the reaction. Tossing her pent up fears to the side, she took a gleeful jump and shout, laughing heavily in relief as the weight of this first battle left her back. Oh, but Plutarch! The girl gave an apologetic smile in the bird's direction, hoping it hadn't been spooked, but didn't deliver long before an excited cry of her name and sudden swoop into the air pulled her away. Laughter found it's way to her lips again upon meeting the glistening, happy eyes of Marcus, but quickly gave up it's place to a joyous, impulsive kiss. It was unlike their first kiss back at the tent, all quick, quiet, and soft; this was warmer, closer, and lingering. It pulled her down in like sweet quick sand, drawing embrace rather than struggle as she wrapped her arms around him to continue the kiss.

A paper bird whizzed around Plutarch, offering him a brotherly victory toot.

--

Dammit. It was so hard to prepare depressing shock paintings with all this fantastic news in the air!

Back at 2D, Willow hadn't held back a few excited loop-dee-loops in the air upon hearing news of 13's defeat, punching the air in front of him with satisfaction and imagining at least a few thrusts were against Briggs' ugly mug. He hadn't lost sight of the warnings he had given to Giovenith not long before, but hey, if they didn't allow themselves to enjoy the little victories, they might as well all shoot themselves now.

"Oh FUCK!" he breathed, wiping at his forehead as he descended and flopped on Giovenith's bed. "Twenty fucking votes! CELESTIA!" Just barely in the clear, but just close enough. They'd bought themselves a little more time to make a difference, and now they had to strike harder than ever. Might as well finish his own small part... charity money didn't create itself.

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Withering Succubus

"It's quite easy to convince a strategist of this, but I doubt many will believe that we're sincere when we mean to unite," the cyborg replied coolly, a bit of warmth entering his voice as he nodded at Amanda's suggestions approvingly, "Still, I'm a politician, this sort of shit comes with the territory. I'll do my best, Ms. Bela. Hopefully the supers will be willing to heed a warning from mundanes and abs alike before we drown with them."

Amanda shook her head slightly, but gave Septimus a slight grin at the same time. "It needn't be entirely your burden, Mr. Itum. There are two Resident supers: Kei and Giovenith. Talk to them; you may find them much more willing to listen to reason than you expect. They can help you. There are also apparently other supers among the Residents, but I don't know them even slightly.

Amanda was rather disturbed by the implications of the conversation between Ocho and Septimus: a high-tech slave state, where people were employed as weapons? She'd need to follow up with Ocho about that soon.

Amanda's train of thought was derailed by Minerva's request for the TV. Amanda turned around to watch it with everybody else, but rolled her eyes at the primitive technology. Yes, it was in keeping with the decor, but really! For news this important, there were better ways of finding out. She pulled out her smartphone, hit the power button, and flicked the Twiddle icon, bringing up #BreakingNews. The feed scrolled so fast she could barely keep up with it, as election news and comments poured in.

Amanda saw the results for Proposition 13 a second before the TV ran them, and she practically slumped in her seat as a wave of relief passed through her. We dodged a-- No, that's not right. They missed. We walked into the line of fire, and they missed. They missed hitting us in the heart, but just by a hair's breadth. They left a big flesh wound. Half the city is willing to send us to a prison camp and forget about us. That's not victory in any sense of the word. She smiled faintly as one of Sandy's favorite historical quips came to mind: "Another such victory and I am undone." OK, Dear, victory in one sense of the word. And then, unwillingly, she remembered the last time he'd said it: hiding in a field at night, watching the bus they'd just been on burn, wondering who else got away. Yeah, that was about the size of it.

Despite her gloom, Amanda dutifully hoisted the beer she'd been passed, and cheered for Septimus. She followed the crowd out of the Succubus, but turned away from them as they passed the Building. The last thing she wanted now to was to be surrounded by a horde of drunks.

She decided to sit on the bench in the lobby before checking on their apartment. If Sandy had had time and a couple of willing strong backs, she'd find it empty except for the furniture. Might as well wait and clear her head before seeing that.

Observatory
Sandy nodded at Marcus' and Giovenith's comments, but didn't get a chance to reply before the eerie calm before the expected storm descended. The rowdy cheering told Sandy all he needed to know about the results, and he pumped a fist in the air. He felt a wave of joy as Marcus swept Giovenith into his arms: young love was always refreshing to see. Smiling, he muttered to himself. "So, we live to fight another day, and not in hiding. We have time and space now. The rematch will go better, much better." He imagined Amanda would be more controlled in her reaction, but still part of the victory celebration around Itum, wherever that was. She'd call when she could pull herself away from her duties as Itum's advisor. But until then...

Sandy searched the cabinets for wine glasses, but wasn't too suprised not to find any. He found three slim glasses, and conjured champagne into them. The good stuff, not the crap people judge by the loudness of the bottle's pop. Marcus would put Giovenith down... eventually... and then a victory toast was in order.

[Germanic Templars]

"It has.", Katya agreed. "A bit long, though. So, have the votes been tallied in yet? I think we should ask, since we've been out today. Good thing we got home before nightfall, too, I suppose. I'm not afraid of anything, but I like to spend some more time at home."

She looked at Edge. "Any plans? Is Tsu able to handle herself, being sick?"

"Heh, yes. Though I would rather not be around when the decision has been called. Instead, I would rather find some way to forget about politics in this cursed town." Thriller remarked. The idea of the town being cursed felt quite literal to him, given it's known inhabitants and history, including the prior city nearby. Still, probably the lands they two cities were built on that made them unlucky, like the houses from the Poltergeist (1982), respectively.

[Swith Witherward]

Not since the March Revolution had the citizens of Bielefeld behaved so wildly. Not that Bielefeld was there for it; the entire nation had vanished March 12, 1848 thus the noise made wasn't on the behalf of freedom and liberty, but rather a collective "what the fuck" on the part of every last man, woman and child within its borders. Bielefeldians proved to be made of stern stuff however, a trait that lasted them through the decades that followed and kept them sane through invasions and other otherworldly nonsense.

They hadn't forgotten their heritage. In fact, the plucky Bielefeldians continued embrace it, adopting the Grundrechte right along with their former neighbors though (magically screwed) Bielefeld was roughly bordering Utah and Greenland at the time.

It was this constitution that had allowed them to keep their society intact. Every last human being was declared equal before the law. Both genders had the same rights and obligations. Privileges based on birth or social status were abolished. Titles of nobility were abolished. The rights of the individual human being are inviolable, and free speech was held dear. They could assemble, as was their right, and could form clubs and societies, and were allowed free and secret elections. Human beings. Mundanes. Not Abhumans nor mutants nor gods nor demons. These things were considered the source of the initial problem - magic things, unfathomable things, the things that went bump in the night. These held no rights. In fact, they were ferreted out and slaughtered, or else had the good sense to jump ship and flee.

Things might have stayed the same, never changing, were it not for a single word in Bielefeld's version of the Weimar Constitution: All citizens were eligible for public office, without discrimination, based on their abilities.

Minerva ass-raped that loophole for all it was worth! Her quest was to find an abhuman with the documented experience necessary to fill the role. More so, that candidate had to actually have a firm grasp on politics, perhaps with experience in handling foreign governments. Though few understood her reasoning for choosing Itum, it was sound. He was the only one that fit the bill; the mundane human, Katya, wouldn't set precident. Minerva rolled up her sleeves to cut through red tape, and she called in nearly every last favor to force immigration to jump hoops in order to instate Itum moments before the nomination submission deadline struck.

And so it was that Bielefeld had elected its first abhuman citizen in public office, and not a damn thing could be done to discriminate against him. Not an appointment - a choice by the people themselves. Although Septimus and Amanda were unaware of it, the people in the Market District understood. Here was the first abhuman to have something close to actual rights. They were damn proud of themselves for doing it.

Is it any wonder that she had thrown back her head and laughed? The cultist leader continued to beam as the pub spilled patrons onto the street. She said nothing as Itum swept Neste into a hug. In fact, Minerva only wished she could feel Klaus' arms around her at that very moment, and to hear him whisper "well done".

Neste bestowed a kiss on Septimus' cheek before the jubilant crowd pulled him from her grasp to hoist him in the air. The human construct trailed alongside him, clapping and singing in unison with the throng as more bodies joined the procession. She had worn shackles when the witherward's citizens last marched in political celebration. Nothing would prevent her from marching now.

They passed the Building and her Residents, and turned onto Main where shops and restaurants had flung their doors wide. Campaigners swarmed from Bran's workshop to pass out makeshift signs denouncing 13. The local highschool band could be heard in the distance - the national anthem, of course - and the revelers joined the massive throng already gathered in Memorial Park.

The pavilion stage was festooned with balloons and streamers, and a single podium and chairs looked out upon the crowd gathered on the grass. Ocho reached out a hand to slap the giraffe statue as they passed by and several others followed suit. They didn't defy the Drones this time; they had defied the old guard and her bigotry. Septimus was carefully set on the stage and greeted by his fellow Representative's aids. They shouted over the noise, and explained that Anna Brandywine was still in the hospital, and Victor Helsing was flying back from his UN business, and offered congratulatory handshakes.

Neste took up position towards the back of the stage's clamshell and gazed out into the sea of faces, smiling at the rainbow of colors and textures. Nila took up position on the opposite side. They wouldn't be able to sense animosity in a crowd so large and emotionally riled, but they'd be able to act should their exos, FUBAR or cultists detect trouble. Ocho crouched near the podium, flanking Minerva.



Rodney had joined the crowd as it passed by the Building's stoop. Now he sat on a comfortable bench near the giraffe statue. He was soon joined by Amara.



A familiar cough pulled Marcus back to earth. His lips reluctantly left Giovenith's, and he turned his head slightly to find the massive form of the Observatory's Megaloschemos staring at him. Here was an iron ingot floating amidst a turbulent sea. Not that iron floated, Marcus reminded himself as he untangled himself from the best girl on earth. There wasn't any anger in Brother Adrastus' eyes however. In fact, his organic orb seemed overly moist and twinkly.

Marcus intertwined his fingers with the godling's to reassure her that there wouldn't be any reprimand from the old cyborg. In fact, he seemed more interested in seeing to Sandy's needs.

"Mr. Bela, we've managed to find some of the items you requested," his low voice rumbled over the celebratory background noise. "I've taken the liberty of having these things delivered to your makeshift sanctum here. I've also assigned a novice to you. He'll report in as soon as he's done with his jig in the kitchen."

[Tiltjuice]

A breath whooshed out, near silently as befitted its author. Her cool nature slipped now, amidst all the other celebration. She let another one go, and then smoothed down her shirt and sleeves. Reaching out, Dora laid a hand each lightly on Gio and Sandy's shoulders.

"They did it. Did you ever doubt?"

[Torsiedelle]

"Concentration...focus on breathing...focus on breathing, remain still, allow yourself to relax..."

Jasmine's eyebrow twitched.

"Focus..."

"I wonder what happened to ghost girl..."

Shit. That was it. Jasmine sighed and smacked the floor as she kicked off. She crashed into her comfy (if old and musty) chair and turned up the volume on the rinky old TV in front of her. She couldn't concentrate on much at the moment. Something felt off to her; she'd been pretty cold the that girl. It was how she always was, actually...well, it was how she used to be. She'd been distant the last year.

She wanted to be more active, but how? So many people already had friends and obligations. What could she do? Ghost girl was like her, and she could identify with Tsu. She wanted some closer friends. She also wanted to leave the building more.

Maybe she'd go to the rally at the park. Nighttime was nice, and she could go without worrying about having to beat up some annoying cityslickers. She'd probably apoligize to ghost girl, too.

..............

(gonna add Katya/Torii posts here later.)

[Highfort]

"Thank you for coming here, this means so much," Septimus offered smiles and accepted handshakes from the aides of his fellow representatives as he took center stage and the lights bore down on him from above the podium. The park had been excellently decorated for the occasion and the crowd was huge and riled up; all he had to do was deliver a semi-serviceable speech and then everyone would break off for food and evening festivities. Simple.

Except without the processor, he was left having to collect his own thoughts. So... slightly complicated, in actuality.

"Settle down, everyone, I know you're excited," Septimus shifted as he adjusted how his voice sounded on the mic, pulling away as he realized he'd been speaking too loudly initially. Beginners mistakes. He blushed as he continued, rubbing his forehead as he spoke, "I'm excited as well. Tonight is a huge night of firsts and I think we should address every first that we've had tonight."

"First on our list of firsts," the cyborg wanted to slap himself for such terrible syntax, but he plodded on, "Tonight is the night we first faced legislation condemning us to ghettos outside the city proper and, more importantly, outside our beloved Market District. I am happy to report - though I'm sure all of you have heard already - that the measure was beaten. This is every bit as much our city as it is our opponent's and we will not be removed from it! We are valued workers, friends, and comrades, even if perhaps we are not seen as citizens by many or even worthy of citizenship by some."

"Tonight is also the night that the first non-human candidate in Bielefield's history achieved political office. I, Septimus Alsius Itum, have been voted into office as one of the three representatives in the Market District," Septimus paused to let them think on that, leaning forward on the podium to speak softly into the microphone, his voice rising as he stood straight and pulled away from the mic, "I thank each and every one of you, all who voted and all who supported my campaign, all who are here tonight and all who couldn't be here. I thank you all for helping me achieve this position. From here, things can only get brighter. I hope one day abhumans achieve the highest levels of office in this great city so that we may show our fellow citizens just how much we have to contribute. And I will do everything in my power to achieve this hope, and to ensure that the people of Bielefield all have opportunities to showcase what they have to offer to our great city and to our great nation. But, I digress."

"Most of all, tonight was the night that we began our journey on a long road to equal rights and opportunities for all of Bielefield's residents," he raised his arms, "Human and alien, cyborg and mutant, mundane and super alike! All of us tonight are taking the first steps on a monumental struggle to ensure that our friends, that ourselves, and that our children will be judged and treated for how they behave and not who they are! Tonight was the night! Tonight IS the night! Ladies, gentlemen, everyone who is here and who is watching or listening: I invite you to come celebrate this night of firsts and this night of victory. To those who are here, please, come socialize and enjoy food and drink. To those who could not be here tonight, especially my fellow Market District Representatives: Mrs. Anna Brandywine and Mr. Victor Helsing, I wish you a good evening and I hope you take a few moments to reflect and celebrate on what has come to pass. Thank you."

Though it was an embarrassingly-short speech by Confederation standards - he wasn't sure if Terrans valued prolonged monologues as much as his own people did - Septimus was eager to get out of the limelight while he was still able to articulate himself properly. As he stepped off the stage, he greeted several ecstatic supporters with handshakes and smiles. In reality, the cyborg wanted nothing more than to return to his apartment - perhaps with Neste, if she so desired - and ponder the developments over a nice glass of something strong. And perhaps cuddle up for the evening and spend the night in the warmth of the presence of the woman he loved.

Heh. Cuddling. A month ago he would've dismissed the notion as preposterous - actively repudiated it as disgusting. But then, a lot could change in a few days and, hell, without his processor he was feeling much better about his prospects with Neste.

But that would all have to wait. He was the Market District's representative and it wouldn't do for there to be happenings in the district without him there. As he greeted several more supporters, he slowly made his way toward the tables where food and refreshments were set up. Something to wash out the beer would be nice.

[Primordial Luxa]

After his work in the Meta-Mantra Cells Primordial moved on to inspect the racket which was coming from outside the window. He walked through the DEiMOS with an easy that seemed impossible as it was a jumble of seeming nonsensical geometry and mazes however to a Luxan who lived most of their life in dimensional transcendent structures it was as simple as walking through a regular hallway. Their were a number of reasons why the various passageways and rooms could be standard size namely because it was the main reason the DEiMOS was able to maintain an internal size greater than its exterior. However these shapes also helped the various devices function at optimal levels and acted as amplifiers and conduits for the various forces and fields that existed in and around the world.

It only took him a few seconds in order to move to the empty silver lined room which connected to the regular apartments window and over looked the street where a rabble of prancing citizens were celebrating. At first it looked like a very primitive show of random ecstasy but upon closer inspection Primordial could tell they actually happy about that silly ballot measure that had failed to pass. He didn't really understand the celebration however, its not like they had ever been in any real risk to any of them.

Primordial didn't understand what any of these abhumans had to worry about from a little government mandate. Many of them had the power to wipe out an entire police prescient without breaking a sweat, others were armed with weapons of unspeakable power and even more had enhanced conditioning that made them superior to average humans in almost every way. What was a police officer going to do against a guy with the power to turn him to stone? What could a politicians do against a goddess with the power to rewrite reality? What could a soldier do against the leader of an intergalactic empire?

It slowly grew on Primordial how much he hated these people in the street. They were superior but rather than exterminate those who had sought to kill and enslave them, they voted as though the two species were equal. They squandered their powers and abilities, something he saw as truly insulting. He stormed out of the room in a fury and quickly exited the DEiMOS making his way down stairs looking for someone who would share his sentiments or at least someone he could talk to in order to quell his anger.

[The BranRiech]

Having spent a couple hours at this point hanging out with Torii, Drova turned his head, hearing an odd noise. His ears easily picked up the jubilation and excitement emanating from outside the building. It was nearly inescapable. "Torii, you hear that?" He asked, looking to his friend, seated nearby. They hadn't really been doing much for the past 2 hours, simply appreciating the others' company during an uncertain time. None of them knew the fates of everyone in the building was busy being decided upon, but they could almost feel the tension.

Drova, even, who didn't really know much about the struggle of the abhumans, knew something was about to happen. He sighed, almost with relief that the noises outside were those of celebration and happiness, and not chaos and panic.

--

With Primordial's thoughts drifting onto how the abhumans of Bielefeld could be so peaceful, the idea of turning someone to stone was slightly cryptic with who he was about to run into.

As the man walked down, looking for someone to talk to, a door that hadn't seen much use in a while had opened. A slight breeze blew over anyone on the other side of the door as Kei exited. It'd been several weeks since she'd visited her friends last, meaning she'd missed a good amount of the problems Bielefeld had faced in the past. She didn't even know that she was one of the beings responsible for it, though she did remember her little spat with the police over the issue of her turning various citizens into various objects.

Her sense of fashion had barely changed in the weeks that she'd been absent, and the Goddess was clad in her favorite black tanktop, and a pair of cargo-pants, adorned with many a pocket.

"Woah." She swung the door back, thus preventing Primordial from running into it. "Sorry about that." She shrugged, stepping out as he walked past.

[Primordial Luxa]

Having spent a couple hours at this point hanging out with Torii, Drova turned his head, hearing an odd noise. His ears easily picked up the jubilation and excitement emanating from outside the building. It was nearly inescapable. "Torii, you hear that?" He asked, looking to his friend, seated nearby. They hadn't really been doing much for the past 2 hours, simply appreciating the others' company during an uncertain time. None of them knew the fates of everyone in the building was busy being decided upon, but they could almost feel the tension.

Drova, even, who didn't really know much about the struggle of the abhumans, knew something was about to happen. He sighed, almost with relief that the noises outside were those of celebration and happiness, and not chaos and panic.

--

With Primordial's thoughts drifting onto how the abhumans of Bielefeld could be so peaceful, the idea of turning someone to stone was slightly cryptic with who he was about to run into.

As the man walked down, looking for someone to talk to, a door that hadn't seen much use in a while had opened. A slight breeze blew over anyone on the other side of the door as Kei exited. It'd been several weeks since she'd visited her friends last, meaning she'd missed a good amount of the problems Bielefeld had faced in the past. She didn't even know that she was one of the beings responsible for it, though she did remember her little spat with the police over the issue of her turning various citizens into various objects.

Her sense of fashion had barely changed in the weeks that she'd been absent, and the Goddess was clad in her favorite black tanktop, and a pair of cargo-pants, adorned with many a pocket.

"Woah." She swung the door back, thus preventing Primordial from running into it. "Sorry about that." She shrugged, stepping out as he walked past.

Primordial blinked twice at the sudden motion his gaze filled with thought and anger, but his expression softened as he noticed Kei. She was her typical self although Primordial had been gone for almost a year and as such she looked new and original to him. He took a moment to steady himself and take in her uniquely divine aura. His magically receptive body opened for a moment and waves of her astral genesis and engorged true will fields rolled over his body picking away at his sanity.

"Kei! Its so good to see you. Your the spitting image of my current malevolent passion." He proclaimed walking towards the window at the end of the hallway with a slight manic tone. "Have you seen this travesty?" he gesture out the window to the streets below where a large group of Metahumans were in the middle of a very casual but festive party. It looked like most of the apartment was present along with various Meta's from the neighborhood. Most of the people were participating in the song and dance or else eating the various meals which were being served. A cursory glance made it look like a traditional summer block party but on closer inspection it was very obvious that this a celebration of some actual accomplishment. Banners and posters proclaiming victory over Prop 13 were being hung from the various building and it looked like a group of politicians or activists might be speaking to a crowd.

"They are celebrating their own inability to take control and their reliance on the mundanes. They are celebrating their weakness and their cooperation in a system of Morales and rules that prevent them from achieving their manifest destiny. I dont know why I care about any of them, they are all beneath the gaze of the Old Ones and thus beneath my attention but still...I cant help but mourn their loss while they gallivant in their perceived success." Primordial was ranting in a semi-incoherent fashion that was caused partially by Kei's aura, his rage, and the four pounds of cocaine he had inhaled over the course of the day. He wasn't entirely sure Kei even knew what he was talking about but it was cathartic for him to rant.

[Torsiedelle]

Having spent a couple hours at this point hanging out with Torii, Drova turned his head, hearing an odd noise. His ears easily picked up the jubilation and excitement emanating from outside the building. It was nearly inescapable. "Torii, you hear that?" He asked, looking to his friend, seated nearby. They hadn't really been doing much for the past 2 hours, simply appreciating the others' company during an uncertain time. None of them knew the fates of everyone in the building was busy being decided upon, but they could almost feel the tension.

Drova, even, who didn't really know much about the struggle of the abhumans, knew something was about to happen. He sighed, almost with relief that the noises outside were those of celebration and happiness, and not chaos and panic.

"Oh, yeah.", Torii shrugged. "Sounds like something good.", She said, feeling a little relieved. Spending time together was nice, if even in the comfort of the girl's apartment, but they had been quite oblivious to the outside world. That but made her uneasy. She felt like, thanks to the serious build-up on the adults' side, they'd end up in a very bad place, and that was why she was wanting to spend so much time with her friends while she could. The cheering outside probably meant something else, however. Well, it could. It got Torii feeling cautiously optimistic, as she grabbed her friend's hand and tugged him along with her. "I want to see what's going on.", She said. "What about you?"

[Fvaarniimar]

<I'll go get them, then?> Concluding that that was what Brit wanted, the cat went up to the bag and started pawing through, knocking it over in the process. Sorry. He remembered the collar. "Sorry." Soon, however, Nick found the Neosporen. Holding it carefully in his jaws as he trotted back, he dropped it in front of Brit, near her right hand.

He then walked around to her back, and was lifting his paws to reestablish the connection when he remembered that she'd asked for a warning. "Um... Miss. I'm going to 'do that again -' you'll want to see your head?" After a moment, Nick placed his paws, and several seconds later the image in Brit's mind had been focused again.

It was only then that he decided to chat. <It seemed like a pretty simple accident...>

[The BranRiech]

On the list of things Kei wasn't expecting to run into right as she opened her door, a rambling Primordial wasn't really something she'd considered to put on said list. Her detailed and mature face softened for a moment, her lips pursing into a slight chuckle at the nigh-incomprehensible ranting of the Luxan. "Well, the way I see it, I suppose . . ." She started, trying to formulate something to say. She didn't know too much about the city's plans to try and contain the abhumans, and the underlying issues that lead to the resentment in the first place.

Sighing, she followed the rather-tipsy man and looked down through the window, almost excited to see this much activity on the streets. "As long as they're happy with what they've done. There's really nothing we can do to stop them, and I wouldn't want to considering the party that seems to be forming down there."

The Goddess shook her head, unable to agree with Primordial's strangely-placed rage. "I might even head down there to join them, to be honest. I appreciate a good time."

--

"It's preferable than sitting around all night." Drova nodded happily, wings twitching with anticipation of seeing the huge celebrations that seemed to be occurring outside. He knew that if he was this tense, Yuna was probably going crazy. He wouldn't be surprised if she was already down there, finding out for herself what was happening in the streets. Yuna's brother hopped to his feet, clothes ruffling along with his feathered wings, following Torii, hand in hand.

[Northwest Slobovia]

Sandy helplessly watched Adrastus' approach and Marcus' rather embarrassed reaction, and faintly blushed with recollection: he'd be caught like that, but by his girl's father. Fortunately, Adrastus didn't seem likely to pass the same sort of furious judgement.

"Mr. Bela, we've managed to find some of the items you requested," his low voice rumbled over the celebratory background noise. "I've taken the liberty of having these things delivered to your makeshift sanctum here. I've also assigned a novice to you. He'll report in as soon as he's done with his jig in the kitchen."

Sandy was taken aback by Adrsastus' initial phrasing, but then relaxed and seemed entirely made out of gratitude. "A novice? Oh, an assistant! Thank you, that's incredible generosity, especially considering suddenness of my arrival." Sandy smiled slightly as he imagined the young man dancing in the next room. "But he can take his time. I don't think I'll be getting much done this evening. I still need to make good some promises I made earlier to Marcus and Giovenith, and at some point, I'll need to fetch Amanda from wherever she is in the city." And then after a slight pause: "Just 'Sandy', please."

"They did it. Did you ever doubt?"

Sandy was a surprised by the weight of a hand on his shoulder, and turned his head abruptly to see whose hand it was. "Oh, Dora, hello! I-- I didn't expect to see you here." Sandy furrowed his brows as he tried to figure out what Dora meant, then finally gave up. "But I'm not sure I understand: 'they' who? The city's voters? Under the circumstances... yes, I rather did."

[Monfrox]

"I'm lucky it was just that. If the knife had stuck into my head, I might've been killed. Man...how embarrassing. You know, that'd be kinda funny to go up to Saint Peter so he could be like "Well, my dear child, how did you die?" and I'd say "I fell on a knife". I'm sure that'd be one to just keep to myself..."

Brit began putting the Neosporen on her cut, to which she dried her teeth as she did it when the pain hit her.

"Okay...that's done...now to wrap it."

The blood on her hands had already dried, making it a bit weird to work around. She grabbed the sterile pressure bandage and unwrapped it. She put it to her cut and then secured it by wrapping a roll of gauze tightly around her head, tucking the loose end in to keep it from coming out.

"Okay...I should be good for a while..." He voice was still shaky and she was jittery from shock. "And now to change my shirt so people don't freak out about the blood on it!"

She walked out and quickly tossed her shirt off to replace it with a different one. Somehow, a new shirt with an early American B-17 on it had made it's way into her drawer. Oh well, it looked cool enough for her, so she slipped it on.

"Well, that's about enough excitement for one day...I'm hungry. You hungry? I'M hungry." She said to Nick as she came back to the bathroom to wash her hands and face.

[Torsiedelle]

"It's preferable than sitting around all night." Drova nodded happily, wings twitching with anticipation of seeing the huge celebrations that seemed to be occurring outside. He knew that if he was this tense, Yuna was probably going crazy. He wouldn't be surprised if she was already down there, finding out for herself what was happening in the streets. Yuna's brother hopped to his feet, clothes ruffling along with his feathered wings, following Torii, hand in hand.

It wasn't too long of a walk; living on the second floor meant that Torii could quickly get downstairs, and it was only the turn around a corner and a few feet down the hallway to the lobby. "Maybe it's continuing the festival? seven o'clock is early.", She shrugged. Maybe they'd check the TV in the lobby....

She led her friend over to get a little look. Her heart was pounding. She wanted her friends to all be okay.

[Giovenith]

"Hmm!" Giovenith half-groaned, half-huffed with mild distress into the pink cuff of her sleeve, instinctively trying to hide her face and blush with the covered fist. Even though nobody was scolding her, it was still rather terrifying to snap out of it and find Brother Adrastus, Mr. Sandy, and Dora all looking at her. She'd gotten over some of her anxieties in being romantic, but they were hardly completely eliminated. She tightly squeezed Marcus' hand back and gently lifted her face to smile at the Greek glamour girl.

"Only the instinctual kind," she laughed lightly in response. "There's still a long way to go! But what matters for now is that we won this round." She offered a brighter beam to the crowd at large. "So let's let this momentum carry us further! No time to get lazy now! People might remember this day, years from now."

Even if they had taken down 13, it was still just like Willow said, they were living in a city divided. 20-something votes was very close, victory high would eventually ebb and they would find themselves once again the same position they were before this whole bill fiasco. That, and if she knew politics, it was only a matter of time before something like this was tried again. They had to keep going.

--

The window to 2D opened wide, the fading light of a 7 pm summer day rushing into the room and casting the room in geometric shadows. Willow had little care, sticking his head out and breathing the cooling air in deeply, letting it rush through his hair and cleanse the melting exhilaration from the breaking news. He sighed, settling inside and eyeing the distant shifting colors and movement coming from the Market District with a slight smile. Considering for a moment, he carefully hoisted himself up and precariously perched on the skinny metal edge of Giovenith's single window, balancing as he flared his wings. Once fully collected, he slowly crouched down on all fours, laid back his ears tightly against his head, and counted to two before rocketing into the sky.

Bielefeld wasn't normally a land for fliers, but there was zero restraint as Willow sped and sped to his personal maximum and allowed the world below to dwarf, passing air roaring all around his head as he drove himself further into the great big blue. There was never a clump in the stomach no matter the height, he'd been born higher, there was only the euphoria of the escapism. Higher and higher he rose, oh so very aware of the endless space before him, but eventually, when Bielefeld city was but a patchwork blanket of greys and greens and the ocean stretched out beyond into a silvery infinity, Willow let go. He ceased rising, gently lolling backward and snapping his wings shut. Then he fell.

It was a nightmare scenario for most, but for him it was fearless. It was a common experiment many pegasi performed frequently once they became fully confident in their flying abilities, the playful recklessness of the young. Of course it became less fun and more horrifying once they had foals of their own, but Willow was still a very free stallion in that regard. First was up, up, up in the brilliant rush, the escape, then see how far you can take the freefall before...

Wings opened again and body twisted back into place to swoop in avoidance of the ground, arcing up and feeling the race of his heart before gently settling his hooves back down on the ground, safe and sound.

"WOO!" Willow shouted, giving a quick swipe across his head to smooth his mane. Still had it! Damn, this was a good day. There was still a long, long road ahead, but he was more than prepared for the journey. " 'Sal, we gotta go and never stop 'till we get there!' " he loudly proclaimed to no one, raising a hoof to the sky theatrically and sporting a satisfied grin. " 'Where? I don't know, but we gotta go!' "

And so he went, went all the way to the Market District, for what would probably be the best celebration he'd had since the Manehattan Underground Rage of '11.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

So maybe the screaming in Iracusian was a little terrifying to some of the people around her. Hearing the linguistic equivalent to someone hacking up a hairball does that, but Adri was legitimately happy for once. The place that she'd be calling home for a while DIDN'T pass an oppressive measure! That was cause for rejoicement after all, wasn't it? Though she had millenia of experience, sometimes her youthful nature (she was still partly a child, after all) shone through.

Byron snorted. Sure, it didn't pass, but that wasn't instantly going to change the minds of a dumbass population. They were already set in their ways, and it'd take something drastic to change that. Still, for the meantime, at least non-humans were safe from government sponsored fuckery. For now. He'd have a few drinks, probably swat a few would-be party crashers, if indeed there were to be any. The old Melanth would look around for people to chat with, first and foremost. Socializing with the scary little girl and the quite honestly, boringly average Reil wasn't what he came here to do.

Well, that was good. Her improvised refugee camp WOULDN'T turn out even worse than Reiltam, at least for the time being. That was a relief. Elka let out an extended sigh and smiled. Her phone ringed slightly, and she looked at the display. "Breaking News, Ballot #13 is Bust". She already knew that. The Reiless stuffed the phone back into her pocket and elected to go outside and visit the festivities. Why not?