Personification Life: EPIC (IC Thread XI) [CLOSED]

[Giovenith]

"Figures," Willow laughed a bit, swiping the apple slices a bit. "No issue, we shouldn't try to eat what we weren't built to. Come on, I'll give you a lift."

Gently, Willow scooped up the cat onto his back again and took off, heading back for the Building.

"If you'd like, we can head back out tomorrow, granting things have calmed down by then."

--

Giovenith shook hear head and sighed deeply at the mounting needs and situations around them. Dissect a fiend, find who's sending them, help the town, find Demens, get healers together. It felt like the list never ended.

"Where do we even start?" she asked out loud to Sandy, turning to look at the adult. "Supplies, meeting, greeting? It all seems like so much."

Pop! Waffles were done. She went to retrieve them.

[Fvaarniimar]

<I think that sounds fun.> He found himself wondering: we as a group, or each on his own? They passed someone who looked vaguely familiar to the cat. <Is that...I think that might be one of my patients from earlier!> Excitement, and remembered exhaustion. Of course, by the time the thought was finished the boy wasn't much more than a speck in the distance.

Nick's paw lifted as he thought. Should he thank Willow again?

...it seemed like the sort of thing which got annoying quickly; in books some characters acted as though it was. Maybe later...

Nick lowered the paw, looking down. As he reestablished contact, Willow would immediately notice his appreciation for the view and awe of the experience of flight.

--

As Nick soared through the air, Rmwtyliin sat with her feet planted as firmly on the ground as was possible when the floor probably wasn't the same dimension as said ground. (Nevertheless the clay she perceived probably counted.)

She smiled, heart figuratively a little lighter. "That is very kind of you. I would appreciate the loan of...one or two - I expect it will help."

Leaning back, the teen waited patiently as Duncan translated her words, and then listened closely (sitting straighter) as he finished relaying Katya's second comment. Her brow furrowed. "They add things to themselves? You mean...That is not armor and they do not remove it?" It was strange and yet... It could be nice to have a light anywhere, or that television upstairs. Then she realized - a new word. Rather important for this place. Syborg. "Sssah-eebbohrrg." The metal men whom she had thought knights.

[Monfrox]

Brit slowly stepped into the dining room, after losing her sandwich in the bathroom toilet a bit earlier. So much had happened. The day was long, but she could not take comfort in that she had it rough, because others had it rougher still. She did not wish to make people worry for her. Not now. She scratched some dried blood away unconsciously and took a seat at the table. She didn't know if she was hungry or not, but she stared down through the dining room table with a solemn expression on her face. So much had happened, and they were just getting started. She sighed and gritted her teeth as the dull pain returned. She put a hand to her head wound.

"Dammit..." Brit grumbled. Really, this was starting to annoy her a lot.

Varona and Mon sat with Flint and Kelly at the table as well, all equally willing to take advantage of the breather they had been granted. The fight was over for now, and that meant it was time to figure out just what the hell was going on. It was clear that they were not in Bielefeld anymore.

[The BranRiech]

"Was pretty easy, yes?" Bran asked, looking to the surrounding people as they found themselves in the dining room for breakfast. "I hope we weren't too late, and it was for nothing." He said, hands shaking somewhat. It had been the first day in a long while in which he'd needed to fire a gun, and fly his chopper at the same time. He took a gulp of orange juice, setting his hat on the table as it threatened to tilt off of his head.

The man grunted, hair shaking in much the same manner as his hands.

"Agh, I'm a little rusty. Gotta' get out flying that thing more, yeah? I mean, if we can get more fuel for it, wherever we are."

[Cerillium]

Dining Room/Kitchen

The last of the "critically wounded villager group" found herself healed (although still bruised up - Ogoti's powers were waning). The avatar pulled back the divider curtains to unite temporary clinic with dining room once more.

The placid smile normally affixed to his lips had long since slipped away. A grim line replaced it and, although his eyes still held some sparkle, his countenance hinted at his matrix's age. What would Dora say about such a thing! Where was the man with the mischievous creases adorning the corners of his eyes? The laughter and wise quotes that habitually dropped from his mouth were strangely absent as he moved between tables in search of the kitchen.

"Sit, Ogoti," Sanjay was at his side in an instant. The young healer had done his fair share last night but he, too, felt the strain now. He was also a gifted human and hadn't expelled as much precious energy. His mentor needed tending and Sanjay rose to the task. "I'll bring us some tea, and perhaps some hummus, if it's still there."

Truthfully, who in the Building would have touched the stuff, other than Kale or perhaps Giovenith? The container was right where the young Indian had left it. He needed only to commit the sacrilegious act of warming bread in the microwave.

Otogi selected a seat close to Giovenith. She would perhaps provide a measure of safety by keeping Residents with minor scratches and bumps at bay. The godling has sass.

"We start with what's in front of us," he said to her politely, "And that is resting. Then we find the Building Manager and insist upon a larger clinic on the ground floor."

"That will be a quest," Sanjay returned with a bowl and the bread, as well as some dark tea in a large mug. "Please forgive my impetuousness, Ogoti, but there is no "we". You must get some rest. Leave this adventure up to us."

Sanjay's stern expression set Ogoti to chuckling as he helped himself to the bread. "I suppose Grandfather should take to his rocking chair?" the avatar popped hummus-laden bread into his mouth.

"If Grandfather knows what's good for him, he will," Sanjay settled beside Sandy. Barely into his 20s, the relatively fair-skinned Indian (being an ethnic Gujarati) seemed out of place beside his mentor. Ogoti chose traditional garb. Sanjay preferred Western style Beatles T-shirts and jeans. He had a shaggy look to him, but the Building lacked a barber. He could have easily passed for one of Sandy's former students. "I don't think we have met. I'm Sanjay Tagore."

"He's my apprentice," Ogoti waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, I've done my best to teach him some social skills but Sanjay is Sanjay."

The younger man chose to ignore his mentor's teasing as Adrastus claimed a chair at the table. "This was a right cock-up, Adrastus. You said you appointed someone to be in charge of the healer group. Well, where was he? We needed him to coordinate supplies, and to organize people at the door. Can you imagine if this had been Bielefeld? Every time I turned around to look for gauze, I found myself surrounded by healers working in isolated bubbles. None of us supported. All of us tripping over each other."

Adrastus raised a hand in protest. "The healers have not had an opportunity to meet before now. You all did remarkably well and-"

"Yes, yes, thank you, but we could have done better had someone been there to coordinate shit between us all."

"What is done, is done," Ogoti interrupted. The cold edge in his voice told Sanjay that this wasn't the best time to bring up grievances. "No plan survives first contact with the enemy, no? We can identify weaknesses in the chain and amend things now. We know each other's talents better. We can coordinate things better now. People with This Ailment will be seen by Insidious. People with That Ailment will be seen by Sandy. And those suffering from Another Ailment can be sent directly to me or to you or to another. In a pinch, a cardiologist can apply a splint, but his talents are wasted, especially if someone is having a heart attack in the waiting room. Let us determine what each healer is capable of and set them up a small area in the new clinic-"

"-Which is a quest to obtain."

"Yes, Sanjay. It is a quest to obtain. Now, Miss Giovenith brought up other needs. We need more supplies. We no longer have the luxury of purchasing prepackaged goods. Adrastus, can your priests build autoclaves? Can they fashion instruments? We will need to do things the old fashioned way until we find a supplier. Further, there is my shoe closet. Every time I open my shoe closet, it has shoes in it. I do not buy them. They are simply there. The landlord provides them. When I need toilet paper, it is there. It is terrible 2-ply, but it is provided. Whoever embarks on the clinic quest must ask the Building Manager to provide a medicine cabinet that does the same. Antibiotics, anesthetics, bandages, syringes and IV tubing. All these things."

"But the door in the clinic leads to-"

"Sanjay, the door in the clinic no longer leads to a supply room. We have been cut off in this new dimension."

The dejected young man curled his hands around his steaming tea mug. Well, damn.

"Further," Ogoti took another bite of hummus, "There is the Construct's Garden. She grows all manner of things there. Her people have advanced medicine. It might be possible to grow mundane things that will benefit the clinic. We must also find a way to replenish magical potions. Perhaps some mundane ingredients can also be grown there as well?"

"Has anyone ever been to the Manager's office? Why is this such a quest?" Adrastus' brow furrowed.

"Because we no longer know if it is where we left it," Ogoti shrugged. "I believe Miss Giovenith and some of the teens have been there. They went to request a clubhouse."

[Monfrox]

This was a right cock-up, Adrastus.

There it was. Those words. Those words that cut someone else down further than the name mentioned.

we could have done better had someone been there to coordinate shit between us all.

Words that cut like a bayonet, straight into the heart. Brit had tuned in and went back through the events in her mind. Sanjay was right. This was supposed to have gone better. And looking back, what had been asked of her had been delegated. And now, well, it was in the past. She looked up at Sandy, with that expression of pure guilt, before looking at Adrastus, who was unknowingly defending her. She had integrity to uphold, as she always felt she did, and that meant doing the right thing. And now, for her, the right thing was to not let the blame fall on Adrastus. He expression steeled as she took a deep breath and stood up.

"Sir," She spoke with a sense of duty in her words, much like she always did when addressing important situations. "It was my fault. I put myself before the task at hand, and for that there is no excuse. I dropped the ball on this one. I wish I could say I'm sorry, but sorry doesn't bring back the dead. Nevertheless, I assume full responsibility for the casualties that were sustained in our care. It's no one else's fault except mine alone."

And there it was. All out in the open, in front of everyone. Brit had chosen to be honest and again to lead by example. She did not ask anything of Adrastus as she sat down. He would come to his decision on his own without her, about whether or not she would remain in the medical team or not. She wouldn't blame him if he discharged her, though. Not in the slightest. Still, she would rather be honest now, when it was time, than to let him foul about trying to find the weak link further down the line where more damage could be caused between here and there. She wanted to help. Help her fellow Residents, but if this was going to set the tone for her work then she would rather stay out of it and let them do their jobs unabated by her inability.

Brit's steeled expression gave way to that solemn one she had when she walked in as she sat back down in her seat. She began the ritual of mentally beating herself up over the little things as well as the big things while she waited for any other comments. Sandy, Gretta, Insidious, all of the team had done remarkably well like Adrastus said, but she felt that those words didn't apply to her now. She felt like she didn't belong at the table anymore. For now, she just stared down at the floor, wondering what would come next.

[Cerillium]

TEEN CLUBHOUSE

A blush rose to Myra's cheeks as well. idle gossip came to mind, and she couldn't stop herself from blurting it out. "Not to mention, I heard you guys got married at Zalgofest."

The notion was preposterous. But, everything about Zalgofests was equally preposterous! Myra's giggle stream suddenly stifled as her breath caught in her throat. "Oh my! What if that was the last one, ever? What if there aren't any here in this new place?"

It was at once a relief and a disappointment. The implications of it rocked her world. "Torii, what it is really was the last one? That means the Chaos group can't bring Zalgo in, right? So if they can't, does this mean they're as impotent as the rest of us? Our safety net would be gone. We'd have to handle everything. Like that giant hamster plague last Easter. The Men stopped that before it hit the city. And the plane that crashed right outside the Building? The Lads took care of that, and the Nifid put out the fire."

Suddenly independence didn't look so sweet. They'd have to handle all the fuck ups done by others. They'd have to police their own Building, and run off intruders. No more time stops, or funny guys jumping out of shadows to drag wounded people to safety. And death? Was death permanent now that they no longer had access to that assistance?

"I need to find Mr. Superbia and Mr. Lucius!"

What if Elohim wasn't in this world? What if no baby Jesus had been born here? No angels sung? No heavenly gates would open to collect all the Christian Residents. If that were so, what of the other pantheons? What of Giovenith's mother? Would Giovenith die if cut off from her? Was she cut off from her? Were Yuna and Drova magical beings that only could exist where their magic was recognized? Is that why they hadn't been seen at all? The girl's head spun from the thought of it.

Myra's leg sent the chip bag spinning across the floor as she struggled to get out of her chair. "Torii, what if Drova and Yuna were barred from the jump? What if they're still stuck back in Bielefeld?"



DINING ROOM

It was hard not to stare at Giovenith. Marcus couldn't stop his eyes from straying in her direction. The morning sun streaming through the windows was more wholesome in feel than Bielefeld's, and it bathed the godling's hair. Twinkling prisms danced between the strands. She was ethereal and noble and yet still his sweet little godling. Her night's work had left her flushed and rumpled. He was in no better shape. Ash coated his skin and clothing, and black smudges stained his forehead from too many wipes of his forearms. They both could use a good bath. Perhaps together.

Oh, now why did I have to think of that? A blush took the boy's ears and darkened his neck and cheeks. He gulped and looked away only to find himself making eye contact with Romulus.

"Er." It came out specifically hurr, much to his chagrin. He followed it up sweetly with, "That's Giovenith, my girlfriend."

The words empowered his esteem and sent his heart fluttering somewhere near his adam's apple. It wasn't that he had a girlfriend, although that was a mighty claim for someone of his social standing. It was that she was the girlfriend, and she was the most wonderful thing in his universe. Always had been, always would be. He spared her one last glance before politely turning his full attention to the new arrival.

"Sir, you mentioned you were a General? I'm guessing they don't hand that armor out to just anyone. And I don't see your troops here, so-"

He allowed the statement to hang a moment before daring to continue. "Hey, camaraderie is important. I get the feeling you're cut off from your people now. But we Residents aren't so bad. And I have a hunch your military background might really do you well here. Most of our soldiers are young and kinda inexperienced. The older ones don't seem to be with us right now. I don't know where the Emperor - that's Cornelius Thriller, the ruler in his own home dimension - is, and I guess all we got now are Tora, the Nikanors, and the Froxians. Brother Itum, he's our Representative back in Bielefeld - um, that's where we were before last night - he's sorta our official headpeace of sorts, I guess. And the Priests in my order keep to their own hierarchy. I guess, well, we're all a hot mess. If those Fiends come back, we need to be better organized. Any suggestions?"

His eyes roamed towards the Froxians as he spoke. They were close enough to overhear him. Maybe they'd come over and offer ideas. Tora was probably with her sister or in the teen clubhouse. Kale seemed withdrawn. The healers were holding their own powwow, although they were speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear them. Poor Brit. He felt sorry for her. He was in the dark on the matter, but he knew what it was like to say that stuff to Adrastus. But the old cyborg was kindly, in his fashion. Marcus kept an ear on the healers' conversation while waiting for Romulus to respond.

[Cerillium]

THE LOBBY CLINIC

The front desk cultist lowered his paper as Septimus clattered down the stairs. People coming, people going. It was Grand Central Station here. He expected the Representative to follow the Mayor's path out the door, and was mildly surprised when he hooked a left at the potted plant and strode towards the clinic. The newspaper in his hands folded and he rose just as Septimus reached the clinic. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

An obviously heated argument was taking place on the other side of the clinic door. Voices tumbled and strove with one another as the occupants' anger escalated what could have once been a very reasonable discussion. Rodney's voice rose above the din, "Lizard, I hope you got the moneys to cover this little SNAFU with your exo."

"Now hold up, Nifid-" Thaddeus countered but was ignored.

"Let us pray the handler's prayer! Lord, please pray for the soul of this bitch and guide my handler hand and make it strooong Lord! So that she might learn a tool's place. Amen!

"You ain't gonna hit no woman in this Building!" Ocho growled.

"What woman, sir? This here's a tool!"

"Not in this Building, she's not! Now step!"

The clinic door opened to reveal a Nifid in a green suit, the collar of which was firmly grasped in one of the thade's fists. Rodney blinked before looking Septimus up and down.

"What are you standing there for, Tumbler Tik-tok? I offered you a chance, too. You laid your game down quite flat. But, as I recall, you refused to take possession. That's how you all are, all about fucking and sucking, saying how we're bad because we treat them like slaves, but in the end you won't step up and take any responsibility. Hell, we know they're tools, but you all make them into ho's. Now get out of my way before I-"

"You son of a bitch!" Thaddeus' bulk slammed into Ocho with enough force to drive the larger alien forward into the lobby, pushing the hapless Nifid into Septimus.

"ENOUGH!" Ocho thrust the Nifid away from him and spun to grasp the old cyborg's lapels. Heavy lips parted to reveal white canine teeth as the augmented creatures struggled against each other. "This solves nothing, Thaddeus. Let it go. Let it go, man!"

Thaddeus moved to swat the thade's arms away but found his wrists encased by the alien's secondary hands. Frustrated, he twisted his position. The xeno held firm. The cyborg's shoulders sagged. "You don't understand. She-"

"I don't need to. Let it go." Ocho waited until he felt the cyborg uncoil, and then he flicked at ear towards Septimus. "Bodkins doesn't get back inside the clinic, got it? You hear that Malaise? You keep that bastard out!"

The daemonette peered out of the clinic door, her face resolute now that she had solid orders, to watch the alien drape an arm around Thaddeus. Good. Go buy him a drink or something.

Rodney waited until the pair crossed the lobby before addressing Septimus again. He lifted oddly displaced fingers to point as he snarled at the man in an undertone, "And don't you start with me, either, Itum. She's useless garbage without her exo. I hold your Confederation wholly accountable. I didn't say boo when Chaos boi fucked her, but you, sir, have destroyed an extremely expensive piece of equipment. You're paying the damages, so help me."

Nifid were known throughout the universe for their love of having the last word. Rodney was no different than any of his kind. A static discharge indicated the activation of his teleportation field. He vanished with a loud pop, leaving a perfectly smooth crater in the lobby floor where his feet had been.

Malaise cast a glance back to the bed where Nila had taken to cradling Neste to ward off the Nifid's violent temper. The former was scratched and bruised but still has piss and vinegar left in her. Her golden eyes remained narrowed as the smaller reptile glared towards the entrance. The latter wasn't so fortunate. Neste had found the energy to shift to her reptilian form but her face remained pinched tight, wincing against whatever blows she still expected to fall upon her. She seemed small to Malaise, a tiny form tucked into a hospital gown two sizes too large.

The daemonette held the clinic door open for Septimus. "Well, are you coming inside or not?"

[The BranRiech]

"Who was barred from what?" A voice asked, beyond the door of the teen clubhouse.

Torii and Myra would probably recognize the voice instantly. How could they miss it considering it was the very same person they'd been talking about. "We were woken in the night, stayed in our room." The muffled voice drew nearer, finally exposing the source as Drova slunk through the door, looking rather tired, but otherwise clean and well-kempt for someone who'd been up for several hours already. "What even happened?" He asked, yawning mid-sentence as he sat down in a chair, facing the two friends.

While he didn't know it yet, Drova wasn't much of a Prince anymore considering there was no more Pyersai Kingdom to take over.

"And ah . . ." The young man yawned once more.

"Morning, Torii, and uh . . . Myra, yeah? Forgive me, it's been some time since we last met." He bowed his head, failing to leave his manners behind.

[The Carlisle]

Kale sat at the dining table, hands under the table, staring at her cereal that was becoming soggier by the minute in the almond milk poured on it. Everything was different about the girl. Her once cheery face and voice was now replaced by a quiet somberness. Two empty chairs stood next to the girl at the table like she was self-isolating herself, odd for a girl that once flung herself into any group with a friendly attitude. Once talkative, the girl was now silent, thinking to herself and not getting involved with the people at the table. She was out of place, like someone took the real kale and replaced her with a fake. Except, she was the real deal, and something was wrong with her. And Kale herself knew why, and it haunted her.

Kale didn't feel like she belonged here, not after what she did. She had blood on her hands that would never wash off. Even with her powers suppressed to nil she like a monster in human skin, a murderer silent of their crimes. Friends, housing, support; she didn't deserve any of that for what she did. The thought of leaving was getting more and more appealing,isolating herself from everyone to not cause harm to them.

"No.... stop... you can't go back into that hole..." said a thought in her head, a last minute defense mechanism to keep her from diving back into the depressive hell she was in before. The thought helped a little, distracting her from the gloomy line of thought she was on, jumping onto another set of rails.

No, she could do something. She wasn't gonna use her magic anymore, but she needed to do something. To fulfill that social debt she had to pay for her crime. She remembered the task she did for the recovery mission, watching the landscape while the rescuers recovered the bio-mechanical monstrosity. Stuff like that she could do. She could garden as well and the people here were farmers. She could help with the fields and planting with her green thumbs and hardiness. It didn't solve her issues one bit, but it kept her from the poisonous line of thought from before.

Kale still didn't touch the cereal, which was at this point a bowl of mush from soaking too long. The plant girl wasn't hungry to begin with.

[Highfort]

The guards, sensing that they were not needed, began walking away, their steps emphasized so as to alert the Representative that they were departing. He didn't bother to acknowledge them; he knew the mayor and where to find them. They knew of his gratitude.

But did Neste?

Septimus sputtered.

Rodney in a green suit, calling Neste a ho, and then telling him he was responsible for the loss of the exo.

Wasn't he? He'd been one of the ones in charge. If he had just had his affairs more properly in order, had coordinated the defense better...

If only that goddamn grass hadn't grown out of nowhere...

"You refused to take possession. That's how you all are, all about fucking and sucking, saying how we're bad because we treat them like slaves, but in the end you won't step up and take any responsibility. Hell, we know they're tools, but you all make them into ho's."

Was that how things were, now? Was that how they always were?

He stepped through the door, not even sparing a glance at the daemonette. His eyes were trained forward, at the only occupied bed in the room.

There she was, gently held in the protective arms of her sister.

"Nila, what happened? Thaddeus called me over... how is sh-" he cut himself off, "How are you both doing?"

It was a stupid question. The clinic smelled of biomass, blood, and harsh cleaning fluids. Ugly injuries were highlighted in the bright, fluorescent lights made for surgery and examination. Anyone with a quarter of their brain would've been able to figure out neither of them were doing very well.

But it was a familiar question, the sort one asks when there's an elephant in the room to address and a desire to avoid said pachyderm. It should not have been familiar here. It was all wrong, didn't match what reality was supposed to be.

Constructs did not get hurt - not this hurt. They were more than human - more than superhuman. And of all of them, Neste certainly was not supposed to get hurt. Perhaps bruised or even scratched up a little, but never hurt. His limited knowledge of constructs told him they were infinitely more powerful than anything he'd yet seen. If they were able to get hurt, then what of the rest of them? What rock would he have if not for her? No, they weren't supposed to get hurt. They didn't get hurt.

Not like this.

Septimus closed the distance between him and the sisters. He sniffed; a slight ache throbbing in his head. His eyes reddened and he willed himself not to cry. It would be undignified to cry - and what good would it do anyways? His tears would not heal the woman in front of her. It would not bring back her magnificent exo.

What of Scel? The exo's body had been destroyed; what of her mind? Was she still there, somewhere, in Neste's head? Was she gone?

Why hadn't he been able to stop any of this?

"I'm sorry," he leaned forward against the bed and hesitated as Neste shifted and winced, allowing the pause to grow before eventually brushing his fingers against her cheek, "I couldn't make time, there was so much to do. I think... Well... I..."

Excuses were the friend of liars, manipulators, and bullies. And he was fine with being all three.

But not to her.

He fell silent.

His knees buckled; he lurched forward and supported himself on the bed. Turning to Nila with glassy eyes, he offered a grin that didn't reach past his lips.

"S-Say," he gulped, licking his lips even as he shook and his knees wobbled, "Would it b-be alright if I-I... I just..."

He stumbled over and gripped Neste and Nila in a hug, his head resting against the former's neck as he let out harsh sobs and pathetic cries and shook and groaned. His breath came in labored gasps. His throat grew dry, and then raw.

"I'm sorry," his voice was muffled as he shifted so he was whispering frantically in her ear - pausing for the hiccuping sob that occasionally came up - hoping that she was aware enough to hear the promises made and the threats set, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let them hurt you. I'm sorry I let them hurt Scel. I'm sorry... They won't hurt you anymore. They won't be allowed to hurt you anymore. I'm sorry... I promise. I'm sorry."

The plants, the fiends, the chaos in the lobby, the delayed healers, Rodney... All beyond his control.

He was pathetic.

[Chedastan]

Thank Wilhelm!

While searching the cabinets and counters of the kitchen for a suitable flavor, Romulus finally found a teabag that looked worthy of his palate. Taking out a personal mug with wonderful artwork of his home province of the Madeleine Heartlands from his armor, and putting hot water in it. He stirred the teabag in the mug with a spoon, then lifted his face plate to sip it's minty freshness. Perfect. He can at least be relieved that this building had some real good tea in it, no need to panic there. He was a little surprise that the retrieval of the biomachine was less stressful than he would had imagined, though that was probably helped by the fact that their crew, and Thaddeus's crew, were both competent in successfully rigging the machine for transport, and no distractions were present to slow them down on it.

He walked back to where... Marcus was. When the boy told him his name during the truck ride back, the General cringed under his armor. In the Wilhelm Imperium, it was considered taboo for a person to have a name that started with "Ma." As those two letters used in that way were often reserved for the pantheons in Wilhelm Creed, and it was considered sacrilegious for anyone but them to have names like that. Romulus fought his natural urges to call out on the boy's offensive name back in the truck. But he had remembered that he wasn't in the same dimension as the Wilhelm Imperium, and those names were probably considered okay to use here, and he'll undoubtedly be seen as irrational by him if he did call him out on it. Still though, one simply doesn't unlearn years of being taught to treat one thing, even if it wasn't even illegal in his own dimension. He will have to reluctantly accept the boy's name for now, maybe it'll grow on him, maybe not. Maccabees forgive him.

As he stood and sipped more of his tea, a glittery and absolutely godly looking girl went by them. Even Romulus couldn't help but stare at this deity for a moment. He thought he might had seen everything odd and weird here already, but it was quite clear he was still scratching at the surface. Assuming she wasn't arrested for blasphemy first, artists from the Imperium would had certainly loved to make great works of her. He returned his eyes back to Marcus, and saw that he was blushing up. Then he looked at the General after having gulped. Romulus was at first concerned, what could this be?

"Er."

Hurr? What could that mean? Romulus looked at him confused. Wondering if the boy might help or something, at least with spitting out what he wanted to say. It likely had something to do with the girl no doubt.

"That's Giovenith, my girlfriend."

Oh! Romulus looked back at the girl that was named Giovenith, he managed to hook up with that? Or rather, she apparently can be bothered with a cyborg like this? Romulus took another sip from his tea, intrigued. He wondered if was for some political move, as it wouldn't surprise him really, Thaddeus looked of high standard, and so was this deity and whatever pantheon she must have belonged to. Though made too much sense than anything here, so that's possibly not entirely the case. Marcus then brought up how Romulus mentioned his rank to them, and his lack of men to command. Romulus paused in sipping his tea for a moment and his face blanked out, having being reminded yet again of him having no one he knew here, he continued drinking for a moment then stopped all together, letting Marcus continue speaking with his attention. After he was done, Romulus was actually genuinely happy that they needed his suggestions, finally a place his rank had real used!

"Yes, boy. This armor was given to me when Wilhelm XXIX promoted me as his newest General, after General Titus Everest before me had passed. And yes it appears I am stuck with you lot for the time being. Now to start off, what's our total troop strength, those villagers included? And what's our estimates on how many Fiends we're dealing with here? Because from what I can tell, especially with that ash field, we're going to need as many people who can fight as we can. Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, my armor has a program installed that can help us with troop positioning."

Romulus started, then closed his face plate so he can see and access the inputs for his strategies and tactics algorithm program that was installed in his armor. He quickly filled in the inputs with information he scanned while outside, he gave some rough estimates on some of the strength slots. A sheet then printed out of his armor with the data. He taken it out and examined it, hoping it'll serve as a good guideline to follow for defense. A General's power armor was after all designed to enable the General to command and plan out battles and whole campaigns from any location, and for as many situations as possible.

"...Ah yes that roof is a rather good place... You should really put some more stuff on that ice wall though, maybe make it taller too... Put a vanguard at the front, and marksmen on top... Hmm... Is it possible to find the source for these Fiends? Because that'll make things a lot easier." He read some of the sheet to Marcus, then gave it for him to read for himself, it didn't look like it'll be good after several hour of engagement, but that was a given. It also suggested for some hazards to be placed all around the area, among other things. Landmines, trenches, tank traps, it seemed like the program was confused of what a "Fiend" was exactly, but some of the data had some good suggestions to act as a guide.

"I'll also let you know that if this building has the capabilities for it, there are some weapon schematics I could give that can be manufactured. Something to equip the less armed. And I am willing train those that need training." He added, now waiting for Marcus's response.

[Giovenith]

Giovenith nodded along humbly to Ogoti's calm lay-out of their duties, too engrossed in the sense of duty to notice brief admirations on her from afar. She felt lucky, she herself having much lying around in supplies to give, even if some of it may have been compromised by their drop in. It was work, but really it wouldn't be any different from what they'd already been setting up in Bielefeld.

She shook her head. "It was quite an adventure when we sought after our clubhouse, these floors hold many surprises. But like Mister Ogoti said, we're lucky at least that our Building is generous in the way it is. Besides..." The girl took a bite of waffle. Not as good as Bran's, but still. "... it's not as if this is a total third world country, Mayor Mercer made it very clear the civilizations here are organized and relatively up to speed. If we do find ourselves lacking, it shouldn't be much to integrate and utilize resources from here as well."

In particular, Giovenith wondered about the big city Ayla had spoken of. Even if they had failed to protect this small town, surely there could still be valuable goods they could obtain and bring back? It'd take quite a bit of adventurous attitude to be the one to investigate, but adventurers they had.

--

"Whoever wants to come, I suppose."

Willow and Nick returned via the lobby doors. Instantly upon entering, Willow took note of the hustle and bustle coming from the makeshift clinic area. The air was busy, tired, formal, and more than a little tense. He took special precaution to hold back near the doors upon seeing the desk cultist briefly try to intervene on what sounded like a venomous confrontation, deciding that now was not a good time to be casually entwining himself in others' business.

"I think I'll do my part in straightening up the library," he told Nick, whom he'd kept on his back. "It's bound to be messy from the hasty crowd. You can help if you'd like, but I'm going to try and not distract the healers until things settle down a little more."

There would be plenty of time to talk to Giovenith and possibly Brit later. Besides, he wasn't a healer himself but still wanted to be useful.

[Torsiedelle]

TEEN CLUBHOUSE

A blush rose to Myra's cheeks as well. idle gossip came to mind, and she couldn't stop herself from blurting it out. "Not to mention, I heard you guys got married at Zalgofest."

The notion was preposterous. But, everything about Zalgofests was equally preposterous! Myra's giggle stream suddenly stifled as her breath caught in her throat. "Oh my! What if that was the last one, ever? What if there aren't any here in this new place?"

It was at once a relief and a disappointment. The implications of it rocked her world. "Torii, what it is really was the last one? That means the Chaos group can't bring Zalgo in, right? So if they can't, does this mean they're as impotent as the rest of us? Our safety net would be gone. We'd have to handle everything. Like that giant hamster plague last Easter. The Men stopped that before it hit the city. And the plane that crashed right outside the Building? The Lads took care of that, and the Nifid put out the fire."

Suddenly independence didn't look so sweet. They'd have to handle all the fuck ups done by others. They'd have to police their own Building, and run off intruders. No more time stops, or funny guys jumping out of shadows to drag wounded people to safety. And death? Was death permanent now that they no longer had access to that assistance?

"I need to find Mr. Superbia and Mr. Lucius!"

What if Elohim wasn't in this world? What if no baby Jesus had been born here? No angels sung? No heavenly gates would open to collect all the Christian Residents. If that were so, what of the other pantheons? What of Giovenith's mother? Would Giovenith die if cut off from her? Was she cut off from her? Were Yuna and Drova magical beings that only could exist where their magic was recognized? Is that why they hadn't been seen at all? The girl's head spun from the thought of it.

Myra's leg sent the chip bag spinning across the floor as she struggled to get out of her chair. "Torii, what if Drova and Yuna were barred from the jump? What if they're still stuck back in Bielefeld?"

Torii pushed her hands into her lap and tried averting her gaze. "Married?! I don't think so.", She said. "Marriage should be sacred. I wouldn't get married to someone on a whim."

The thoughts of no more Zalgofests, or safety, or contact with their home hadn't actually dawned on Torii, who was trying to not actually think about it until then. She listened to her friend, and sat back to take it all in. Her reaction wasn't very happy, as fear crept into her mind. "It also means that our families won't know where we are. Me and my sister won't have our money, either, since we're cut off."

It was a scary thought. When Myra suggested that Yuna and Drova might have been left behind, she was even more scared, enough to make her begin to get up and run off to find them. Her fears were somewhat alleviated when Drova came it. She paused and gazed at him for a moment, to make sure he was really there, and looked back towards Myra. She was relieved.

Drova should have been able to notice the used rifle near the door. Torii pointed to it, anyways. "The building got dropped into some other world or something. We got attacked by a bunch of animals, but we killed them, mostly. A bunch of people from a town nearby got hurt, and now it's a mess all over the building. Myra and Marcus were outside, and I was taking care of some of the things that attacked."

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

"Yes, cyborgs, or Augs, if you want to be in on some colloquials in my home country.", Katya replied. "And I won't mind lending you any books. Reading is important."

Through the busywork around them, and the distant sounds of arguing and yelling, Katya was mentally fatigued. "I'm surprised you're so calm right now. Lots of movement this morning."

[Fvaarniimar]

Lobby
Straightening the library... Nick considered it. It was fun to spend time with Willow, but it seemed unlikely that the pony would be that talkative...The mention of trying not to distract the healers settled it. He would be a distraction- underfoot and getting in the way.

(The thought process was fairly quick and overlaid with the echo of Willow's words; some would transfer, and while the pony could follow it in theory he in fact likely wouldn't.)

<I don't want to help...> Wincing as he realized how that would sound - <I don't think I said that how I wanted> - the cat switched to the collar. "You know I'm small, and I don't have hands or hooves. I'm pretty sure that I would just be in the way..." <But hanging out with you has been great. See you later?>

Jumping down, Nick started to walk away but paused. If Willow had any goodbyes or similar he wanted very much to hear them.

---

It was quite difficult not to gape at the scene, but, calling upon her training, Rmwtyliin managed it. She did, however, watch, noting that a 'saiborg' was involved... Or two of them? Was an eye enough to count? Someone unruly...

A portion was translated. Some tool being made into a woman selling intimate relations... She assumed that would not apply to something without life. Were women tools here, as seemed to be the case in some countries? Her stonach sank before she thought further. She doubted Kale was a tool, Katya seemed independent, and as for Giovenith...who would have the hubris to make her a tool? So perhaps most women were not. This one was...and she had been forced into selling sex? Rmwtyliin's fists balled. But Residents are supposed to be the good guys! She turned to see who was so accused, as it wasn't so easy with bright light and seeing out the corner of an eye -

...Wait, Itum? Sseptdimuzss Itum, their representative? And Ocho? Were they accusers or accused? She hoped it was the former. Some accusations were outright lies; most held a kernel of truth...and those two were in some way hope that this future was better. A man who spoke against violence though he could easily win fights. A man who spoke of unity and equality and persevering...

Katya was speaking. The girl's lips pushed out. She had neither thought her calmness strange nor had thought that she seemed calm.

"Ahgs." A strange half-feeling as she said it was largely ignored in favor of more tangible occurrences. "I am honored to learn a saying of your homeland. In mine...Things are often busy." She spent a few moments seeming to gaze at something.

"Perhaps not all of Fvaarniimar is that way, but my home - I am quite used to a great deal of movement. Sometimes I went off into the gardens or found a more quiet nook when I grew tired of the commotion, but this is not new to me!

"...We were always told to try to stay calm when it seemed everything in the country was happening around us. " "Fvaaviimkune needs to deal with delicate, stressful situations gracefully. A Naabvimliikunz or Naabviimliikune, as our primary representative elsewhere, must have that same skill..." Of course Mother knew how useful the skill was. I was calm enough that she noticed - and without thinking much about it! Katya would notice a large smile. I am rather certain she would be proud.
---
Apt. 9C
A groan.

Kwa'a wasn't in much pain - she merely was waking up. The light was in her eyes and she felt rather hungry.

That said, she had eaten. And not only had she daydreamed of a nice bath, she had actually dreamt of one. Of course it was a strange bath and circumstances had gotten absurd...but it seemed likely that her subconscious was trying to tell her something.

Either way, she very much wished to make that dream a reality. She'd often lacked for creature comforts... A blissful smile. Not here, at least. There was sewing to be done and other things, but she had the excuses of hygiene and not wishing to repel her neighbors by stinking.

From the kitchen she collected various spices and herbs - anything which had a pleasant and strong smell - as well as salt and oil. This would be an extravagant affair.

A small plastic bin sat by the tub; she had noticed it before but hadn't thought to open it. Now she chose to. It held a rainbow of bath salts - she added scoops of cream, lavender, and white-hued ones to the gleaming basin. Some boiling water... A pinch of this, a sprinkle of that... Soon a soothingly pleasant aroma had been achieved. Adding a little salt, a fair bit of oil, and cooler water Kwa'a filled the tub and sat back, relaxing.

[Giovenith]

"You can come with anyway," Willow reassured, gently giving Nick's head a friendly rub. "We can hang out while I pick stuff up, it's no issue. We're friends, I'm not going to just kick you to the curb."

No siree, Nick was a good pal, and the two of them shared many issues that were easy to connect on. Especially since Sterling had ditched him.

"If you want to, of course."

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Burrows

"More of a pharmaceutical connoisseur, an emotional sybarite and a spiritual voluptuary. [...]"Oh how lovely I simply can't resist a good hymn or carol. They have this dreamlike texture to them that just tinkles me to no end, you simply must show some time."

Oh, wonderful, a junkie with a large working vocabulary. At least he seems to have it under control: he cast a spell without killing himself. Amanda gave Primordial a dirty look. "A little temperence never hurt anybody. You might find that a little calm makes the unusual more exotic, so you won't have to search so hard for new diversions."

"Oh, I don't sing well enough to give recitals. It's really just for my own enjoyment, but I'd be glad to accompany you if you play an intstrument." ...and streaming audio is really cheap these days, if you're just looking for a little light entertainment.

The abundance of closed shops left Amanda a bit put out at first. Did these people not like outsiders, except when they needed something from them? But as she walked down the main street, it dawned on her that this morning's fighting was probably just as unsettling to them as it was to her and the other Residents.

Looking up ahead, she saw a large group had gathered on the village green, and a few of the people around the nearest edge of it had begun to glance in her direction. They seemed uneasy; was it the attack or her and Primordial's appearance that made them nervous? She regretted not trying to find Sandy to get him to recast the Ears of the Wolf on her. Eavesdropping was rude, but blundering into a badly plotted Western was worse: nervous people with guns and magic tended to be a bit trigger happy, and it's a shame when the heroes die in the first scene.

The crowd around the old well parted like curtains to reveal the woman in their midst. She held her arm out, finger sharply pointing directly at Amanda and Primordial. "Look, damn it, Gatejumpers, plain as day! You ask them! You ask them about the building and dinosaurs and other people!"

Amanda jerked her head back, startled by the incomprensible accusation. She recovered quickly enough; she'd heard stranger things from unexpectedly hostile witnesses. The villagers didn't seem hostile, either. In fact, it seemed like the old bit of encouragement was playing out in front of her: they were at least as scared of her as she was of them. She smiled at the thought, and decided that she might as well go with it: being friendly was much less taxing than being frightened. "I'm not sure what a Gatejumper is, so I can't tell you if that's what we are."

"My name is Amanda, Amanda Bela. Yes, we just arrived in the Building. It's on top of the hill, you should be able to--" she turned around to find it, then pointed it out where it was just visible above the village's rooftops. "There, you can see the upper stories from here." She turned back to them, and watched them look up at it, as though it was a sign from God. Inspiration struck: perhaps it was. If they worshipped Demens... "Demens is our landlord. He brought us, the Building, and everything in it. There's about a hundred of us. But... I'm not sure where we are now. What's this village called? This country?"


The Building
Sandy listened to the exchange between Sanjay, Adrastus, and Ogoti, drinking his mocha as they spoke. Sanjay had all the tact of a bull with a hair up his ass, but he wasn't entirely wrong... just mostly wrong. Fortunately, his mentor had corrected him, so Sandy felt no need to give him a piece of his mind, yet. Ogoti's to-do list was reasonable, indeed, he'd repeated some of what had just been discussed. Sandy wasn't sure if it was a compliment to say that the god's lack of omniscience made him seem more human, but it did seem that way. He finished his mocha, conjured a little water in his mug, and swallowed it to wash it out.

"It was quite an adventure when we sought after our clubhouse, these floors hold many surprises. But like Mister Ogoti said, we're lucky at least that our Building is generous in the way it is. Besides..." The girl took a bite of waffle. Not as good as Bran's, but still. "... it's not as if this is a total third world country, Mayor Mercer made it very clear the civilizations here are organized and relatively up to speed. If we do find ourselves lacking, it shouldn't be much to integrate and utilize resources from here as well."

Sandy agreed, picking up Giovenith's point. "There's a city visible from the roof; it can't be too far away, and it looked to be of some size. It shouldn't take long to reach by ground or air. They should have much, if not all, of what we need. We will have to figure out what sort of money they use here. Perhaps we'll get lucky and they'll accept our currency, but I wouldn't bet on it."

"Sir," She spoke with a sense of duty in her words, much like she always did when addressing important situations. "It was my fault. I put myself before the task at hand, and for that there is no excuse. I dropped the ball on this one. I wish I could say I'm sorry, but sorry doesn't bring back the dead. Nevertheless, I assume full responsibility for the casualties that were sustained in our care. It's no one else's fault except mine alone."

Ah, yes, Brit... good confession, sounds contrite. Too bad you couldn't have managed... Sandy's anger with the girl died away as she finished speaking. She means it; it shows. She understands. There's no point in rubbing it in or punishing her.

"Brit?" Sandy spoke to her gently, with as much of his best Kindly Professor Bela as he could still manage. "Don't worry about blame or fault. We'll..." He caught Adrastus' eye as he sought an ending to his thought. "We'll work this out privately a bit later today."

Sandy thought for a few seconds, recalling the earlier part of the conversation. "I was going to call the healers together after the Residents' meeting. That will get us answers to some other questions Ogoti raised: about who can and should do what and how we'll divide duties. I'd also like to find out where we're lacking. We may be able to hire people and buy equipment, both mundane and magical, to do what we can't."

Sandy paused for a second, and a grimace crossed his face. "There's also another matter of some importance: time. Mayor Mercer mentioned that the Fiends have attacked the past six nights running. She also mentioned that their appearance is connected to the phases of this... world's two moons. So, it's not clear to me when they might come next. It's one thing if we have several days to get organized, and another if we have to be ready in twelve hours. I'd like to send somebody to The Burrows, the nearby village, to get a better idea of that."

"But we do have one thing going for us regardless of when the Fiends return: there won't be civilians on the battlefield. The mayor said they were unlucky, and the Fiends appeared as shepherds were leading their flocks out to graze for the day. The sheep are all gone now."

"So, there should be nobody outside at night except those willing and able to fight. That will reduce casualties all by itself. With just a little military planning, our fighters will better prepared, and that will help more. We've already got a wall of ice around the Building now, and we can fight from on top of it. Hopefully, our abilities won't be in as great a demand next time."

[Primordial Luxa]

Oh, wonderful, a junkie with a large working vocabulary. At least he seems to have it under control: he cast a spell without killing himself. Amanda gave Primordial a dirty look. "A little temperence never hurt anybody. You might find that a little calm makes the unusual more exotic, so you won't have to search so hard for new diversions."

Primordial barely suppressed a scowl of his own at her suggestion which simply seemed antithetical to his being. "Temperance is not a tarot card that's in my deck and I like it that way. My life is simply too strange already for me to entertain such and idea, my toaster makes most hadron collider look normal, so that not an option for me."

[quote="Northwest Slobovia";p="26349228] "My name is Amanda, Amanda Bela. Yes, we just arrived in the Building. It's on top of the hill, you should be able to--" she turned around to find it, then pointed it out where it was just visible above the village's rooftops. "There, you can see the upper stories from here." She turned back to them, and watched them look up at it, as though it was a sign from God. Inspiration struck: perhaps it was. If they worshipped Demens... "Demens is our landlord. He brought us, the Building, and everything in it. There's about a hundred of us. But... I'm not sure where we are now. What's this village called? This country?"[/quote]

Primordial nodded along and stretched his gravitational muscles a little bit limbering up in case the villages intrigue turned into something worse. “Yes we were just looking about for some supplies actually. My name is Primordial I was wondering what kind of currency you used here and if you have a jeweler around here?”

[Swith Witherward]

Nobody ever asked Nila how she fared, except maybe the space weasel. She was at once touched by Septimus' consideration, but became somewhat agitated by his physical approach. The smaller construct found herself in an awkward position, her open mind serving to absorb her sister's pain put her at a direct disadvantage should he move to touch her. His hand extended, but he only sought to caress Neste's cheek. Nila breathed a sigh at the poignant gesture.

"She's in torpor," she tried to explain, "Her mind drifts in her memory gardens until her body has healed enough for her physical discomfort to abate. You can find her there, if you have the key."

He seemed to not have heard her at all. Old nightmares resurfaced as he settled onto the bed. Humans! Humans had horrid thoughts. All her sisters said so. Their minds were filled with cruel notions and disgusting sexual fantasies. Her agitation increased as he enveloped her and Neste in his embrace, and then Nila's eyes widened as she was unintentionally subjected to his emotions.

The painful contact rippled through her, forcing her brain to conform to his feelings. Her body adopted his grief and despair, and Nila found herself falling slave to it, forced to live every last regret seeping into her skin from his touch. She pinched her eyes tightly closed as she struggled to slow her breathing, and to stem her own sobs. No, no, no! This isn't your emotional state! This is his!

Her instinct was to lash out at the human's intrusion. Yet Neste bore it. Nila's mind chastised itself, willing her to rise above the human's waves in order to understand why. The answer came after a hesitant tiptoe through the Overseer's memory garden, and the revelation shocked her. Delightfully so. A secondary shock arrived moments later as Neste pulled herself from the depths of her mind to impart a soothing wave, reminiscent of the one she shared with Septimus long ago on Dyste. The effort taxed the Oveseer, and Neste drifted away once more, but there was a peacefulness to her slumber now that she realized Septimus was holding her.




"We are self-same, Brother Itum," Nila murmured to him once his sobs began to abate. How could he have forgotten something so important? "Freedom, morality, and the dignity of the individual consists precisely in this: that she accepts her fate not because she is forced to do so, but because she freely rises to the challenge. Collective freedom provides the basic conditions for people to narrate their own lives and to embrace a capacious notion of dignity. But to have that freedom means sacrifice of self for some, to deprive one self of the luxury of self's wants."

She drew her head from under his arm to better see his face. "Do you understand, Brother Itum? The construct leaves her nest and stands at the gates of hell, to buy time or to weather the violent storm, because all the sisterhood deserves it. For every one of us that stands in circulation, ten have been granted freedom to leave circulation. They are claimed. They have Someone. Neste and I remain that they may not be recalled back. We that remain taste freedom and dignity through the lives of those who are pardoned from conflict. To know that they thrive is enough for us. It is enough for you, too. The enemy have hurt us; they will continue to hurt us; we will continue to put ourselves in their path. It is our calling. Because fuck the enemy."

Her warm snout brushed against Septimus' cheek, willing him to understand. "You breathe the ways of sisterhood, Brother Itum. You, who have been called to serve, rise up to take your place that those within this nest have sanctuary. You are as a Dominion Lord is, and you have an obligation to fulfill, one that can not be encumbered by personal wants during times of crisis. You are not an Overseer. It is not your place to stride into hell. That is her job, and mine is to support her. We all rise to the challenge. The battle waxes. The battle wanes. We return to lick our wounds and acknowledge our pain. Now is the time to do so. Your timing is perfect, sir. We would have been dismayed had you come a moment sooner."

Her lips pursed as she extended her neck to brush a kiss against his forehead. Yugh, why did humans taste so weird?

"Now listen to me, Brother Itum," she growled against his skin, "Scel's death is not your doing. You were powerless to affect such things. But if there is an intelligent mind behind the Fiend attack, we will root it out and torture it for its crimes against our sisterhood. That is our way. We will torture it until it begs for mercy, and we will ignore that until it begs for death; death is not good enough for it, of course. You'll see. We are Nifid. We're nasty, oh yes we are. You just keep mean ol' Bodkins off our tails a while so we can set things right again."

She pulled away from the pair, content to claim the end of the bed and heedless of her nudity as she lifted a leg to better capture her back foot between reptilian hands. She began to preen it, one toe at a time gently nibbled by her front teeth, an indication that she wouldn't intrude upon any private thoughts shared through the physical contact between the human and her sister.

Her tongue rummaged between her teeth, working a peeled scale to the front of her mouth. She spat it out and then cocked her head. "Illicit tethers are wonderful, are they not?"

Nila fell silent again as she adjusted her position and started on a new toe.

[Fvaarniimar]

Nick did consider going with Willow. Anxiously, he kneaded the carpet as he tried to articulate his feelings... It really did mean the world to the cat that the pony wanted him around - a step forward -

"I think -"

Sudden interest. The cause didn't yet seem to be present...the library? Could be a book...He doubted it. He, strangely enough, wasn't really in the mood for reading...or the library. Empty and small or loud and crowded. He didn't really feel like heading over there.

"I think I'd prefer something else, but have fun cleaning! See you later! Goodbye!"

With that he was off.

[Giovenith]

"O..." He was gone. "... kay."

With Nick running off, Willow found himself suddenly alone in the lobby. He took a moment to survey about, taking in the various groups and busy murmurs outside his scope. He felt like an island. Righ then.

The pony took a deep breath, held it, and let out a long sigh. Right, no complaints, this wasn't a good time to be acting selfish. Now was the time to be useful like everypony else. There would be time with his friends later. Collecting himself, Willow made his way to the library, immediately getting started on sweeping scattered trash and pushing tables back into place.

He wished he had some jazz.

[Monfrox]

"But it is my fault though..." Brit mumbled.

We'll work this out privately a bit later today.

No. Please no. The usual "praise in public, punish in private" routine was something she was used to over the years. She went over all the things she might possibly hear from either of them. The usual variations of "you need to get your head out of our ass", "you're old enough to know better by now", "this cannot happen ever again", and of course "we're very disappointed with you". All these and more spun through her mind as she sat, dreading the private talk with Adrastus and Sandy. She had failed, as both a leader and a team member, so of course she knew there was punishment. She'd consider herself lucky to get off with so much as a "the team no longer requires your efforts". She felt like she was on death row, as always with cases like this.

Still, she would honor their words whatever they may be, and respect their decisions. They were older, and by her logic wiser, than she was. They called the shots, and she would have to comply. That was just her nature.

---

As Marcus talked on with the newcomer, Mon elbowed Flint before walking over to the boy. The redhead had met Marcus' gaze and she smiled as she walked with her two fellow countrymen.

"You know what they say about speaking of the devil, right?" She winked at him playfully before casting her eyes onto the General.

Well, certainly an aged man from his time, but she peered out into the lobby and saw Kelly Regina cleaning her pistols out by the wall. She too was from a bygone era of the other dimension. Perhaps she could be of assistance as well. She looked back at the General.

"So, what's your problem?" She asked enthusiastically.

[The BranRiech]

"Mmm."

Drova grunted slightly, taking in the information from Torii. Apparently they'd missed a little more than expected, but neither of the siblings wished to risk their lives needlessly, and it had sounded as if they weren't really required to begin with. "Well if there's anything that needs to be done now? I mean, I wouldn't mind helping out a little more." He offered, flicking his eyes between Torii and Myra. "And that's really brave, Torii."

He turned his attention to who he'd probably consider his best friend.

He was still in awe over how amazing Torii was. While he was cooped up in his apartment, trying to console his sister, Torii was out with the others, fighting and helping others, and doing nearly everything that was the opposite of the girls he'd known growing up.

[Torsiedelle]

The girl couldn't help but feel flattered. "Thanks.", She half-whispered, feeling a bit of pride suddenly flare up inside. She hadn't really done anything too impressive, at least compared to other residents, and at the end of it all, they were planning while she was left out, just a kid still. "Really, it's no big deal.", She finally said, after what she realized was a few seconds that she had paused to think about it. "I mean, I'm still just some looser who got woken up by the crash and ended up shooting some monsters."

She didnt want Myra to go; they were just getting comfortable, after all, but she understood the girl's reasons. She gave the girl a soft punch on the arm and waved for Drova. "Right now we're just resting. Well, healers are busy, if you're with them.", She bit her lip, "but I think they got everyone. Now it's just one or two people, and I think the grown-ups are all helping, so even the healers are free now. There's been a lot of crazy tonight."

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

"I'm glad for that, then!", Katya laughed, hoping to lighten the mood. "It can really be tiring, when you're used to being more laid back, and then you get thrown into a bunch of activity. I actually have calmed down since coming here, however. Bielefield was big, but Stavropol, my home city? It was massive, at least how I remember it. Life in the building is more laid back and friendly. "

Silence came back for a few moment. "I don't think all of this bickering is good for kids. I have faith in you, though. Adults are always arguing over one thing or another.", Katya wagged a finger. "But if it's important, then it's better they get it all out."

[Primordial Luxa]

DINNING ROOM
Insidious joined the healer meeting a little bit later than most and watched with a slight fasciation at the debates going on about roles, performance, and assets. She nodded happily at Sandy revelation that future occurrences like this wouldn’t be as violent as the last one was which both annoyed and relieved her. She didn’t like how taxed she had become during the events, like Kale she felt bad but for a different reason. Insidious had nearly turned into a victim during the healing process by over exerting herself and she still felt a deep senses of embarrassment when she thought about that.

“On a quick side note” She said interjecting something into the conversation “We do possess an alchemical configuration which we can use to produce many of the necessary supplies out team may need. We used it to create the several hundred gallons of universal donner blood for the team last night and with a few minor adjustments we can easily produce other necessary medical substances. Although it can’t create complex things like machines or multi-part components it can be used to make useful chemicals and materials like drugs. We would still need a building sanctioned medical cupboard but at least we wouldn’t have to worry too much about those sort of things.”