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

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Cerillium
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Founded: Oct 27, 2012
New York Times Democracy

Postby Cerillium » Mon Oct 19, 2015 12:26 pm

DINING ROOM

A slow, sarcastic clap drew Marcus' attention from the Foxians to the doorway where, bold as brass, Amara leaned against the jamb. The android's humanoid face stood out in stark contrast with the supple black material encasing her entire body. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed Romulus. "Impressive, General," she intoned in a husky voice nearly devoid of inflection.

Her stiletto-heeled feet punctured the air with sharp toks as she leisurely strode towards the table. Amara was all about curves and bounce, from her strange wire-and-conduit crest to her rounded hips. The long-legged android didn't walk, Marcus noted with a sigh - oh no, she undulated. And, as the boy knew perfectly well, she was mean as hell.

"Readings indicate that you arrived after the fire, and after the Fiends had turned to ash. You have no idea how many "soldiers" are available to you. You don't know how many Fiends were in the fray, nor what they are, nor how they behaved when confronted. You stood in the aftermath of battle to strap a broken machine to a helicopter. This is not adequate exposure to the foe."

Amara's hands touched upon the table and she leaned forward on straightened arms, presenting those behind her with a suggestive view of her peach-shaped bottom. "A vanguard at the front will be eaten in record time. Marksmen didn't put a dent it in. Fiends roll in like a potent storm surge, blanketing the land and using their fallen as ground. They are Eldritch Abominations, a supernatural force of seemingly pure malice. Further-"

Her head turned to regard the boy unabashedly gaping at her. He closed his mouth with a loud gulp.

"Do I look like something the likes of you would have chance to interface with, tech priest?" she sneered at him. "I am Drone. I'm the only Omnissiah you'll ever need. Bring coffee to me. NOW."

He complied rather than remain as her target. There was bad blood between his order and the Drones. Suffice to say, it had curdled.

"FUBAR," there was veiled threat to Adrastus' voice as he addressed the android, "We don't have time for your Drone mischief and antagonistic behavior. Play nice or go away."

Amara - the extension of the aforementioned FUBAR - blinked twice at him before easing into a chair. "The problem," she said to the Froxian that had addressed the General, her voice still as monotone as prior, "is that nobody around here has a sense of humor."

Adrastus grunted as he politely returned to the conversation at his table. The Drone's arrival had served to take some of the heat off Brit. He cast a neutral expression in her direction, then motioned for her to sit with the rest of the healers.

"I'm hoping you're right," he turned the conversation back to Giovenith for a moment, speaking loudly enough to include the soldiers at the table nearby, "regarding the Mayor's assessment. I didn't have a chance to speak to any of the villagers, but some of the priests relayed snippets of conversation. They appeared to be in good health, Fiend attack notwithstanding, and weren't dressed in rags. I think it's safe to assume there's a thriving society or two outside our door. We're working to determine their technology level. Apparently the larger city - was it west of here? - broadcasts news and other programs. There are radio communications. Alas, none of your phones will work until we either establish our own network or find a means to tap theirs. The signals aren't the same, and none of the devices we brought from Bielefeld are capable of transmitting or receiving. Yet."

A smug smile accompanied this last statement. Adrastus loved a challenge.

"Sandy," he continued, "We need more information on the Fiends, you're right. Time may not be on our side. I sincerely hope one of the exo pilots might provide it; I presume FUBAR turned up to impart some along with his usual insults and rancor. The Luxans have means to detect things as well, and it seems the Fiends are right up their alley."

He paused to glare at Marcus as the boy returned with the android's coffee. Stupid lad.

"So we need several teams, then? One for the village. One to seek the Building Manager - I suggest Giovenith lead that, and take with her those who have been there before. One to see to organizing defenses - we have willing and able volunteers at the table over there. And a curfew is sound reasoning, Sandy. It wouldn't be prudent to roam outside at night."

His smile broadened as Insidious joined their group. Good. The Luxans were still on board. The raptors would be another valuable addition, but they'd withdrawn to wherever it was raptors went post battle. They'd appear, in time.

"Insidious, would you be willing to track supplies for us until we establish a larger clinic? In addition to your own supplies, that is. We'll start pooling them in the clinic downstairs for now, if you're all agreeable?"



LIBRARY

shh tik shh tik shh tik...

And then music began to play. It was tinny and light, and enhanced by the scratching of a needle on vinyl, but it was unmistakably jazz from a bygone era. A man in a Nazi uniform stood up from behind a table, his hands clutching cast-aside crayons left by the village's children. His head tilted. A playful smile tugged at his mouth's corners as he turned towards Willow.

"My host, Hans, fancied himself as Swing-Jugend - one of the Swing kids - before the War. He was too old, and he couldn't dress the part, but he defied the Nazi regime by listening to jazz at every opportunity," he wistfully explained. "The punishment in later years, if caught, was a trip to the concentration camps, but youth will defy authority! Ah, the summer before Hans left the Hitlerjugend to become Schutzstaffel was the finest one. He visited a local Neuhaus every Friday night to sit with others around the old radio. Sometimes they found musicians to play, Jews mostly, and they would dance and dance."

Rache deposited the crayons in a box atop the table, then brushed the waxy remnants from his hands. "Tell me, Pony, how is it that a species which creates anything as tasteful as jazz music should also create anything as distasteful as concentrations camps and the torture of the weak? Is it so where you come from?"



TEEN CLUBHOUSE

Myra weighed her options. It would be good to find out if other pantheons were barred. Yet it would be nice to hang out with Torsii and Drova. She bit her bottom lip as she mulled over the various implications of either activity.

"I think I'll be gone just a short while. We need to know just how lacking our shit is."

Now resolute in her choice, the girl offered a gentle shoulder tap back to Torsii before making her exit.

She had no idea how she would contact Lucius or the demon, but she knew where she'd find information: rooftop. The Lads in the hangar might help her out.



THE BURROWS

Amanda's words sent another whispering ripple through the villagers. So it was true? Demens had sent them some crusaders? A hundred, in fact! This was good news indeed.

Redeemed, Margaret wrapped her shawl about her shoulders as she approached the woman. "I'm Margaret Stern. I run the Inn, but was visiting my brother last night when the Fiends hit. This here is the Village of North Warnborough, although most just call it The Burrows."

She stopped in front of Amanda to peer at her intently. Everyone new Gatejumpers were practically lost lambs when they first arrived. Her expression softened. "We haven't any country, if you mean in the political sense, Amanda. We have regions. So happens, The Burrows sits smack between Urbem Ascalon and the Freywold. We pay our taxes to Ascalon, of course."

She thrust a hand into her skirt's pocket and produced a small coin, which she handed to Primordial to examine. It was a simple copper disk with Demen's symbol printed on its face and the image of bird on the reverse. "This is penny. Twelve pennies to a shilling, twenty shillings to a pound. It's the currency used here and in Freywold. Ascalon is more expensive, and you can expect to spend pounds rather than pennies there. And the markets in Alessio! Oh don't even get me started on how expensive they are! Lord save us all and keep us from the poorhouse!"

Margaret extended her hand to receive the coin back. "Don't think of counterfeiting them, either. We can tell the difference. But mostly, here, people like to haggle and barter. You'll find fair deals. We try to help Gatejumpers out. We're not like some places. But I don't think we can support a hundred of you for long! Goodness! Not with winter coming and no sheep to produce the wool."
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Primordial Luxa
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Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Mon Oct 19, 2015 1:28 pm

DINING ROOM
Insidious smiled and her skin turning to a dark color like tanned skin ripped from a body and her veins took on the appearances of large crude surgical stiches criss crossing her naked form like a train map. She was pleased by all the unique work which needed to be done because it sounded like a great way to dilute and distract her mind form the growing pressure and horror she was constantly feeling recently.

“The fiends seemed to be familiar yet different. I am sure that one of our many tomes can tell us something about them or a parallel universe version of them. But if any of them are lying around I would prefer to have someone join me for some dissection and vivisection. But it would also help if we could send some people out to examine where they came from that would also be useful.”

“As for supplies I can deal with that. The DEiMOS still has most of those sorts of things but were still running some diagnostics so we might actually be lower or running out. If people just bring the supplies to the clinic or the DEiMOS that would be the most ideal to help me with the sorting and cataloguing.”

BURROWS
Primordial studied the coin for a moment before handing it back politely. His plan was to turn in some of his treasures for cash so he needed to keep an eye out for a jeweler who could take a few dozen rubies the size of a baby. However judging by the inn keepers words he might have to go to Alessio for that but that.

“I don’t think you have to worry about your livelihood miss.” He said “We may need a lot from you for the first few days but once we get our footing I’m sure we will be able to grow out own food, and we will be happy to pay with what we have. However any other info about the other cities or some of the strange locations around the hill that I’ve detected?”
Last edited by Primordial Luxa on Wed Oct 21, 2015 3:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.

Monfrox wrote:But it's not like we've known Prim to really stick with normality...

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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Mon Oct 19, 2015 2:49 pm

Brit looked over at the familiar sound of high heels. Wait, who was that? Was that one of the Drones? Her answer came from Adrastus. That was another Drone. Well...she certainly was built with something in mind. Despite being a machine, Brit found it hard to pry her eyes away. However, she eventually did, only to see Adrastus looking over at her. Their eyes met and she soon froze. Was he still mad about before, or was he mad about her staring at the Drone? Well, gawking more like it. Wait, was he even mad? He didn't look like it, but then he waved her over and offered a seat. A seat in the proverbial lion's den. She swallowed hard before getting up and taking a seat with the rest of them. Eye contact as immediately avoided as she looked to the floor.

At one point, she put her hand on her head again. Blood was still present around her wound, but the little drop on her palm told her it was done for now. Well, there was that at least. A shower would be in order as streaks of it had dried and clumped her hair together. She wiped her hand on her pant leg and sighed, bringing her gaze up from the floor to the table.



"Sense of humor, eh?" Mon repeated a bit quizzically as she looked the Drone over a bit before turning her quizzical look to Marcus, who had brought her coffee.

Flint, however, was starting intently at Amara. Studying her at every turn. She had never seen something like this before, and wondered what exactly was that made it work or operate. It was interesting to say the least, to a girl who had done nothing but shoot to survive for most of her life. Then again, living in the Building was a great vacation from that place. Still, she had made sure she hadn't gone soft with that survival school job she did. But there were things even now that she didn't understand, and she was curious as to how they worked.

Varona took in the information as she looked on from behind Mon. Well, this was certainly a show indeed. She looked over to Flint, who had a scar up her face now from the grass. Well, they certainly healed that up quick. She looked back to Romulus, wondering what kind of General he was, if he was even a General. For now, she was getting the usual "top brass don't know shit" vibe from him. Time would tell if she would be proven wrong.
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Giovenith
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Mon Oct 19, 2015 4:54 pm

Naturally, Giovenith was none too pleased with the way the Drone woman had spoken to Marcus, nor that he had felt bullied enough to actually do what she demanded. Had she been a more brash child, she might have taken the coffee from his hands, tossed it across the room, and informed Amara that she seemed more than well-built enough to fetch it herself. But Giovenith was not brash, she was smart, and she inferred that such an action would likely earn her a slap across the face and more than a few critical looks. She settled for placing her feelings behind Adrastus' words to the mean Drone.

"That I can do," she answered with a sudden elevated note of confidence, rising from her chair a smidge. "If we're capable of learning anything, if Demens is willing, than we can do so. A second trip should be more organized as well, assuming the Building hasn't changed itself since our last exploration. You can count on my friends and I to make a difference--isn't that right, Marcus?"

She called him out with the intent of pulling back toward a position of dignity, but it was more likely something closer to the two's first, "yes dear" moment.

--

Understandably taken by surprise from the supposed mind-reading, Willow turned to watch one of the uniformed humanoids deliver their thoughtful memories. The painter could tell that the form before him was tinged with a kind of unnatural flow, though why so he knew better than to inquire, not with the humility Giovenith had installed in him when it came to interacting with the branch called Chaos.

He was ignorant to many of the historical references Rachel had made, though the word "Jew" had not escaped him. It was one of the terms that had been swapped around at the town meeting held by Itum back in Bielefeld, intermingled with other heavy phrases like "oppression" and "minority." That memory and further exposition gave Willow just enough context to understand the general gist.

"We are not cruel toward those who are of smaller demographics, no," he said, clutching a broom tight. "Not in my country, anyway."

That wasn't to say they were perfect; he remembered back to when Miss Zecora the zebra was a much-gossiped about social outcast, but even then, nopony had ever made a move to actively harm her. Though that wasn't saying much, given that was mostly fueled by the fear that she would lay foreign curses upon them all. Willow didn't believe in curses, but he had regrettably taken a passive role in the hysteria by not speaking up due to social pressure.

"I really don't know what's wrong with the humans, to be honest," he admitted, taking back to sweeping up crunched grass and dried dirt from footsteps past. He found himself taking a few sweeps to the beat. "I'm told my culture is seen as childish, and yet here is where much more disorder reigns. It took one brush with total annihilation and only six initial reformers to get ponies to shape up, but people here seem unable to get the picture no matter what they lose."

Something about the circumstances said that the new helper wouldn't be so offended over his criticisms. Perhaps humans had them beat in technology, but Willow found it more than a little eyeroll-inducing when his human friends chuckled the condescending mantra of, "sunshine, laughter, and sugar." As opposed to what, destitution, plague, and horror? Was he missing how this was supposed to be a laughable thing, or were humans just a race of complete and total masochists?

"I didn't catch your name."
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Chedastan
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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Chedastan » Mon Oct 19, 2015 6:12 pm

As Romulus waited for Marcus's response, and began to reconsidered some of his inputs, he lifted the face plate of his helmet, and took another sip from his tea. The warm fluid was good thinking fuel for him, and also a good calming agent. A she-wolf and another girl came up to them, and started talking to them. He never thought he'll ever see one of those Lupii again, given how their subjugation into the Wilhelm Imperium was tragically botched by General Titus Everest on one of his earlier campaigns by mistake, resulting in an inefficient breeding population to maintain it. By the time Romulus became Lieutenant under him, the last litter had been born, and their extinction was imminent. Not long after the last birth, a statue of the former people had been erected in their former homelands, apparent now an industrious city of the Imperium. So seeing one that appeared to fit the description for an Lupii was a pleasant surprise for Romulus, almost making him forget her question of what his problem was. He actually had a lot of problems right now in fact, and was about to explain to the she-wolf his situation, until the... Insubordinate android interrupted his train of thought for brief moment with it's entrance to the room.

Romulus stood calm, but firm as this... thing had it's spiel against him and his suggestions, in an deconstructive analysis no less. He had only been here for what would seem like less than two hours tops, and he already had someone hating him, he would had expected it to happen sooner actually. He gave it an unamused glare, and had he been a lesser man and not known any better, he would had hacked the infernal thing to bits unceremoniously with his sword. Especially when it somehow managed to get the boy to bring it coffee. Really? C'mon boy! I can just kick the damn thing to death if I wanted to! Don't give it what it wants!

But before he could say anything to defend the boy, or to make him stop. Another person had intervened from the next table, calling the android out as FUBAR, or at least a droid from it. That sure quiet the thing down though, to which it looked to try and defend itself by saying it was being humorous. He was sure the thing would had been shot and torn to pieces if it said that with his men present, who sadly weren't here. Still though, it was right by some merit to Romulus's initial assessments to finding a solution to defending against the Fiend Menace. Eldritch Abominations? Why didn't you say so before! Had he figured that, he would had approached it much more differently. This calls for guidance from the Dimisit A Pavore. But first, to contend with that bitch of a droid. No General of a Wilhelm was going to be talked like that without a strongly worded response, he cannot insult Wilhelm XXIX to Wilhelm I by not defending himself to something this crude. His image will not be tarnish by insubordination. He cleared his throat, and began to speak in a composed but strong manner, loud enough for everyone to hear. He waited for Giovenith to finish speaking, then started after taking a step forward towards them.

"My, my. It appears that I haven't spoke to enough people still. I am General Romulus Aphrodisiac of Wilhelm XXIX, of the Wilhelm Imperium, the Imperium that spans to infinity. Like General Titus Everest before me, I introduce myself fully because I am proud of my service to my Regime of Wilhelm XXIX, and all the way back to Wilhelm I. As General to the XXIX Regime, I lead with valiance and pride. For I am the Guardian of the Meek, the Beacon Holder of Wilhelm's Hope and Light, and his Judgement. And for that I am a conqueror and statesmen for him, who like every General before me, had led countless campaigns against our foes and won the peace every time for our Imperium and people. I came to all of you today after I had led my men to finish off the Prismite Menace once and for all. And now I am here to aid you in defeating the Fiend Menace that threatens every living thing that's here. Not even two hours after my arrival even! The fact that I am already trying to help you, despite not even knowing what half of you even are, already, right off the bat with the program in my suit! Is more proof to me that I was made well for my job and rank, to the point I can work with anything I'm thrown at apparently. And means more to me than some premature initial assessment I gave, and whoever could be bothered to try and tear about a petty assessment." He ended that off by looking down at the bitch-droid. He then continued, looking at it.

"I will ignore your rudeness for now, as you have bothered to at least give me more required information." He returned his attention to the rest of them, taking out a book from his suit, titled the Dimisit A Pavore, XXVIIIth Edition. The book had a rough leather hardcover to it, and Wilhelm I's face was printed on the front cover, with Wilhelm XXVIII's face printed on the back. It was the worst case scenario book given to commanding officers of the Imperium. Romulus opened the page of contents to search for Eldritch Swarms under the dark category, then went through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He found something during the Wilhelm XI Regime. Here we go.

Having the pages opened, he set the book down on the table. The chapter simply read: The Tale of the Visoraq. Though it could be quickly summarized as:

A threat of the XI Regime, the Visoraq were a swarm (later known as the Swarm of the Black Death) encountered by General Tiber Aspalax while conquering frontiers to the southwest of the Imperium. After receiving heavy losses on the first week, the General's forces managed to drive them back the scoundrels back to their crypts with use of the Silver Regimental Guard, and assistance from Kill Team Zulu Niner. Their use of Bright weaponry and white phosphorus having won them the peace and victory, and volley fire tactics. The Visoraq having been vulnerable to light and fire. It's believe that The General sealed their crypts, a presumably starved the survivors to death, It's unknown as of Wilhelm XII if the Visoraq were completely wiped out...

"I'm not entirely sure how well this will help us, but Wilhelm damn me if I stand and do nothing. If you need more from me, I'm all here." He finally finished saying what he felt like saying. He wonders how they will respond.
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Fvaarniimar
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Founded: Nov 20, 2013
Mother Knows Best State

Postby Fvaarniimar » Mon Oct 19, 2015 6:34 pm

Torsiedelle wrote:.............

"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."


"I suppose so." Her lips pushed out. "I thought -" There was some male honorific, but if she knew it she had forgotten. "Madam Ocho spoke against violence? I think he just used it..."

Actually, perhaps she should ask Katya? The woman's attitude had been encouraging. "There is an honorific in this language for a man, correct?"

---

The original plan had been to head for 7B or maybe a high-up window, but when Nick heard voices near the kitchen he decided to investigate. He felt interested, although perhaps too much for it to be due merely to voices which were after all familiar... Nosing the door open further, he noticed two groups. Giovenith, Sandy, that Brit girl, the new guy...

Observation made the decision loyalty couldn't. One group held people who had been in the library - (he spared a thought for Willow, feeling a pang of regret - had the pony seemed hurt?) - and, he noticed, someone who he vaugely recognized was discussing medical supplies.

Hopping onto a chair somewhat higher than most, Nick sat and listened as the next person spoke - the man from the lobby, at the other table.

He seemed rude.

---

"Ahhhh."

With that last contented sigh, Kwa'a interrupted her relaxation. She did need to check her leg and neck again... The neck would need to be later, as neither the tub nor its fixtures were sufficiently mirrorlike in quality. Her leg, however... Leaning forward, she lifted her knee. Not bad. There was an ugly scab, but the flesh wasn't hanging off her leg and gangrene seemed quite improbable. It stung in the water, but not enough to cause concern.

The shampoo started as her typical fare - clear and sweet-scented, with woody and fruity undertones. Somewhat silly additions of ground spices and crushed leaves resulted in... Well, something different. It smelled rather special, but now her hair felt as though she had slept on the forest floor in fall.
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The BranRiech
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Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Mon Oct 19, 2015 9:05 pm

Torsiedelle wrote: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."

"It's still more than I was able to accomplish." Drova pointed out, blushing a little at the thought of himself being a coward. He knew deep inside of himself that he was the opposite of a coward, but the thought that he'd basically sat in his apartment while a battle raged with monsters outside nearly made him shiver. Was that how low he'd let himself fall? "I didn't contribute to the defense at all, so it's fortunate that they didn't seem to miss the help I could have offered."

He smiled, and nodded as Myra made her way past them and out the door, back into the lobby, on whatever mission she'd deemed important enough.

"Hey." Drova's ears perked up at the sound of his own voice, eyes brightening underneath his glasses. "How about we both go and find something to do together, something to at least help with whatever happened to us today." He offered, both a way to get active, and a way to get his own mind off of the fact that he may never see his home again, if they were at all trapped here, in this strange new world.

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Torsiedelle
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Mon Oct 19, 2015 9:20 pm

The boy's offer was good. It made Torii happy, anyways, since he still wanted to hang out. She nodded and stepped forward. "Sure, whatever we can figure out to do. I know everyone is busy and stressed right now, but I think we can have fun together."

"Oh, and...", Torii picked her rifle back up. "About the other day, and Zalgofest, and what you told me..."

She stopped short of the door, so she wouldn't be blurting it out as she entered the lobby. "I think it'd be cool if we could go out. I like you, too."

..........

Katya nodded. "Mister to madame, Sir to Ma'am. Where you trying to tell me something about one of the older men who live here?"
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Northwest Slobovia
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Anarchy

Postby Northwest Slobovia » Mon Oct 19, 2015 10:15 pm

The Building
Sandy wasn't sure which of the newcomers was the most strange: the naked woman offering them medical equipment, the man in armor pompously shouting orders like he had the slightest idea what was going on, or the good-looking android taking him to task for doing so. Adrastus briefly made the last the winner by calling it FUBAR, who Amanda had described as a huge war machine. It slowly dawned on Sandy that Adrastus meant the android was a peripheral; a smartphone to FUBAR's desktop-self.

Already worn out, Sandy became distracted trying to decide who the man calling himself a general of some empire was: an actual general, hopelessly out of his depth and too embarrassed to admit it; or a typical grunt, trying to impress them with his miltitary 'knowledge'. He leaned towards the former: the man's armor wasn't familiar, but it looked expensive and not the sort of thing armies give to common soldiers.

Cerillium wrote:"Sandy," he continued, "We need more information on the Fiends, you're right. Time may not be on our side. I sincerely hope one of the exo pilots might provide it; I presume FUBAR turned up to impart some along with his usual insults and rancor. The Luxans have means to detect things as well, and it seems the Fiends are right up their alley." [...]

"So we need several teams, then? One for the village. One to seek the Building Manager - I suggest Giovenith lead that, and take with her those who have been there before. One to see to organizing defenses - we have willing and able volunteers at the table over there. And a curfew is sound reasoning, Sandy. It wouldn't be prudent to roam outside at night."

Sandy was called back to the ad hoc meeting by the sound of his name. "Hmm?" He paused, digesting Adstrastus' statement. "OK, where would we start looking for the exo pilots or the Luxans? I don't think I know either group, at least not by name."

There was another pause, while Sandy thought the groups through. "I may be needed in a couple of places at once. I should at least give the defensive group some starting points on fortifications; I know about some historical ones on Earth. And since I'm worried about what we don't know and when we can know it, I should probably try to help nail that down. I think I'll start with the former, since it shouldn't take as long."

The Burrows
Cerillium wrote:Redeemed, Margaret wrapped her shawl about her shoulders as she approached the woman. "I'm Margaret Stern. I run the Inn, but was visiting my brother last night when the Fiends hit. This here is the Village of North Warnborough, although most just call it The Burrows."

She stopped in front of Amanda to peer at her intently. Everyone new Gatejumpers were practically lost lambs when they first arrived. Her expression softened. "We haven't any country, if you mean in the political sense, Amanda. We have regions. So happens, The Burrows sits smack between Urbem Ascalon and the Freywold. We pay our taxes to Ascalon, of course."

Amanda smiled warmly at her; a friendly welcome was the best they could ask for. "Glad to meet you, Margaret." Amanda thought over the innkeeper's geography lesson as she watched Primodial inspect the penny. 'Urbem' sounded like it might have the same root as 'urban', the same way the French words shared the Latin roots with English ones. She ventured a guess. "Ascalon is a city, and Alessio is a larger, richer city?"

Primordial Luxa wrote:“I don’t think you have to worry about your livelihood miss.” He said “We may need a lot from you for the first few days but once we get our footing I’m sure we will be able to grow out own food, and we will be happy to pay with what we have. However any other info about the other cities or some of the strange locations around the hill that I’ve detected?”

Amanda winced inwardly at the junkie's rather rude question; Margaret had just offered to help, but that didn't mean we should start making abrupt demands of her. Nor did she think Margaret would have the slightest idea what he meant about 'strange locations': he hadn't shown her his map, and if magic was common here, the Burrow-dwellers might think not think any more about them than the Residents would about the corner grocery store.

Better do the necessaries. "We may have to ask your pardon. We were awakened early this morning by a call to arms, have spent the time since fighting and helping the injured. You're not seeing us at our best. Primordial is right, though, that we should be back on our feet soon enough, and we'll be able to repay any kindness you show us."

There was a beat while Amanda picked up the previous thread of the conversation. "What happened to your sheep? Did the Fiends get them?"
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Highfort
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Postby Highfort » Tue Oct 20, 2015 4:04 am

Shallow breaths gave way to long, deep sighs.

She was okay. She was alive, even if just barely. She would yet recover and he would yet have time to apologize and beg her forgiveness for what he'd done. No regrets would go unvoiced nor unanswered so long as she breathed.

Septimus calmed. The wave which washed over him courtesy of the construct he gripped tightly soothed him and his muscles relaxed slightly. Exhaustion followed relief, as the adrenaline rush that had only been intensified since the early-morning battle and the constructs' incapacitation fled his blood and he was forced to realize that he was, in fact, just as mortal as everyone else. His body groaned for rest, as all in the Building no-doubt did after such an ordeal.

"Wonderful, yes," his voice came out in a soft whisper, barely enough for Nila to strain to hear, as he tested his vocal chords. Raw from unbroken minutes of crying, he decided against further conversation and merely enjoyed the sensation of Neste's warm, familiar form pressed up against him as he embraced her on the hospital bed. His arm occasionally drifted up and down her own, its twin tracing down her back - though he avoided the interfacing ports for now. Neste had, no doubt, enough excitement for one day; she needed to rest and rejuvenate herself.

He was needed elsewhere, of course. No doubt the flood of Residents in the communal kitchen and dining room indicated an impromptu meeting was about to take place, if it hadn't started already. It wouldn't do for the Buiding's Representative to be neglecting his duties in this time of crisis.

But damn if he wasn't comfortable here, embracing his best friend and lover, keeping her warm and reassuring her he was here as she slept.

A few minutes wouldn't hurt, he figured. They both needed this, and it would do him no good to force himself to work until he broke down again. A little respite was not unwise. And besides, Sandy and Giovenith probably had things under control in the kitchen.

His head raised from her neck, Nila's saliva drying in the harsh florescent light As Septimus raised his lips toward Neste's ears. He began to hum - no real tune or message to the sound, a mere buzz of varying pitch and tremor. It told her nothing and yet everything - that he was here, that he was with her, that he was awake, that he was watching over her, the whole lot.

His mind reached into the tether to leave her a parting message before he pulled away, the minutes of humming ticking by faster than Septimus would've liked.

"I should've done better for you - we all should have. I'm sorry it's come to this, but I promise that when you awaken, we'll get to the bottom of what happened. I must go, but I'll return to see to you in the evening.

Be good, Neste. You've done well... love."


He wasn't sure if he could hear her - or, even if she could, if the words would make any sense to the addled lizard. But he had to try, and with that completed he felt himself strong enough to stand up.

Breaking contact with her almost hurt, and he wouldn't put it past her to have perhaps inflicted a bit of suffering onto him in return for his failures. But he had work to do and people to serve beyond Neste. Rolling off of the bed and onto his feet, the cyborg strolled over to one of the cupboards inside the little clinic and grabbed for moist towelettes and tissues, wiping his face of dried tears and soothing his puffy, sore eyes. His nose still hurt, slightly stuffy from his crying episode, and the representative attempted to clear it with several harsh blows.

Dumping the soiled items in the waste bin, he strolled back to the bed before averting his eyes as a blush burned onto his face and he noted Nila's nudity. Neste's sister was indeed worthy of the name, though his thoughts remained grounded in chaste things. The violent and sobering events of the last few hours left him too mentally-jarred to truly appreciate the fine work the Nifid had put into engineering their constructs.

"Miss Nila, will you be watching over Neste for the rest of the day? I'm afraid I have to go - there's no doubt a meeting going on in the kitchen," he paused to clear his throat and steady his voice, which was raspy and pitching up and down due to overuse, "But I don't want to leave her here alone, in case she wakes up or needs something."
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The BranRiech
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Postby The BranRiech » Tue Oct 20, 2015 4:42 am

Torsiedelle wrote:The boy's offer was good. It made Torii happy, anyways, since he still wanted to hang out. She nodded and stepped forward. "Sure, whatever we can figure out to do. I know everyone is busy and stressed right now, but I think we can have fun together."

"Oh, and...", Torii picked her rifle back up. "About the other day, and Zalgofest, and what you told me..."

She stopped short of the door, so she wouldn't be blurting it out as she entered the lobby. "I think it'd be cool if we could go out. I like you, too."

Still sitting down, Drova went absolutely red in the face, turning his head to look at the ground, not sure what to think. "Y-yeah? I . . . Oh . . ." He stuttered, propping his arm on the armrest of the couch, standing up to look at Torii again.

"I, uh, I'm really glad. Heh, sorry for being awkward, I guess this is a first for me." He smiled, stepping towards her slightly, and the door. "So what do you think we should go and help with, eh?" He finally asked, trying to get off the shaky topic of his awkwardness, and the fact that he actually had a girlfriend for once in his life. Well, a girlfriend that he actually liked at least. With her humanity still on his mind, the Pyersai tried his best to dispel the notion that it was wrong for them to be together, but it was just one of the many thoughts swimming through his mind.

Oh shit . . . I'm going out with my sister's best friend.

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Fvaarniimar
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Postby Fvaarniimar » Tue Oct 20, 2015 9:15 am

"Uh, yes. I do not know if you attended the gathering on the topic of Theertdeen, but at that time Mmistuur Ocho spoke against violence. I thought that he disapproved of it and yet he was just brawling with another." Her lips pushed out. "I do not understand, Katya..." The princess sounded somewhat frustrated; as she had enough control over herself at the time to avoid revealing that, her not doing so was an indicator that she trusted Katya enough not to disguise a potential vulnerability.

---

Nick, in the dining room, licked a paw; Kwa'a, in 9C, finished lathering her locks.
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Torsiedelle
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Postby Torsiedelle » Tue Oct 20, 2015 12:59 pm

At least we wasn't freaking out too bad. That was always good. Torii wasn't very subtle, was she?

Still blushing, she clapped her hands, before realizing just how much like her sister she must have looked (a strangely worrying thought), and chuckled. "Well, why don't we help with breakfast, maybe? Me and Myra were going to the village, but a group is there already, although I think they could always use more hands. I'm pretty tired, though. There's also doing what Myra did and looking for one of the adults to ask, like Minerva or, uh...Klaus.", She gulped. Klaus really did intimidate her a bit, but maybe that was just because of her track record of getting in trouble. "We could also find Thriller, and, oh! Flint! She got hurt earlier, and I tried to help, but I don't know if she's still where he was."

"Of course, not to sound too girly, but we could always just talk. Sorry, just a thought. Talk, or look for answers? I'd expect Gio or Yuna to be on that already, but I don't think it means we're left out."

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

Katya was having trouble thinking of how best to explain it, or at least what she thought of it; she didn't know the entire story, after all.

She leaned in a little closer and scooted to the side. "Well, personally, I think violence is necessary sometimes, but that's beside the point.", She started. "Things are complicated. Thirteen was politics, and talked about how we all could stay in good graces with our home, but that? I'm not sure, and besides, nobody who ever preached peace actually stayed peaceful one-hundred percent of the time....but", She shook her head, "Again, it's complicated. They have their own relations and thoughts and personalities, and people can't always get along, and especially in stressful situations like this. People got hurt, and a few killed tonight. A good few of us were injured, and when someone you know or love is hurt, and when you're in a strange place and don't know what's going on, then emotions can get the better of us."

Katya tugged at her collar. "I hope that's a good enough explanation?", She asked, before turning to get a glimpse of the ruckus. She was worried.
Last edited by Torsiedelle on Tue Oct 20, 2015 1:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The BranRiech
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Postby The BranRiech » Tue Oct 20, 2015 5:51 pm

Torsiedelle wrote:At least we wasn't freaking out too bad. That was always good. Torii wasn't very subtle, was she?

Still blushing, she clapped her hands, before realizing just how much like her sister she must have looked (a strangely worrying thought), and chuckled. "Well, why don't we help with breakfast, maybe? Me and Myra were going to the village, but a group is there already, although I think they could always use more hands. I'm pretty tired, though. There's also doing what Myra did and looking for one of the adults to ask, like Minerva or, uh...Klaus.", She gulped. Klaus really did intimidate her a bit, but maybe that was just because of her track record of getting in trouble. "We could also find Thriller, and, oh! Flint! She got hurt earlier, and I tried to help, but I don't know if she's still where he was."

"Of course, not to sound too girly, but we could always just talk. Sorry, just a thought. Talk, or look for answers? I'd expect Gio or Yuna to be on that already, but I don't think it means we're left out."

"Breakfast uh . . . Yeah, breakfast sounds alright." Drova smiled, his precisely neutral accent wavering slightly, with joy, or pride, or worry. He didn't know what to be feeling, but it was a strange mix of all three, vying for control over the boy. "I thought I smelled some food on the way down here, so we could see if there's any left?" He nodded, taking a step towards Torii, face as neutral as his wavering voice. "S-shall we?" He offered a hand, dark skin glistening with microscopic beads of sweat, his perfectly manicured fingertips wavering.

"Sorry. I'm just . . . Ah, I'm just awkward."

He admitted it with little shame, knowing that he really had no appearance to hold up, no responsibilities here. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders in a way. Who was here in this strange new world to report back to his parents? No one was going to know about his affection for Torii, except for those who had little to no stake in the matter.

Only the Gods would know, and Drova barely believed they were around anymore, or if they were, whether or not they cared.
Last edited by The BranRiech on Tue Oct 20, 2015 5:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Torsiedelle
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Postby Torsiedelle » Tue Oct 20, 2015 7:04 pm

"Nothing wrong with being awkward. You should've met me when I moved here."

Torii took the boy's hand and reached to open the door with the other. She noticed the boy's hands, and it made sense with his whole appearance. She had some minor cracks at the tips of her fingers, and she really should have clipped her nails more; she had been chewing on them some time ago.

She worked with her hands a lot, she realized. What did Drova do, exactly? She wanted to ask, since she knew he was with healers, but she didn't want to be rude. She wondered if he knew a lot about her work with NVE.

"Breakfast would be great. I want bacon...bacon, and biscuits, and gravy, and pancakes, and everything else. I'm used to a big breakfast."
Last edited by Torsiedelle on Tue Oct 20, 2015 7:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby The BranRiech » Tue Oct 20, 2015 8:22 pm

Torsiedelle wrote:"Nothing wrong with being awkward. You should've met me when I moved here."

Torii took the boy's hand and reached to open the door with the other. She noticed the boy's hands, and it made sense with his whole appearance. She had some minor cracks at the tips of her fingers, and she really should have clipped her nails more; she had been chewing on them some time ago.

She worked with her hands a lot, she realized. What did Drova do, exactly? She wanted to ask, since she knew he was with healers, but she didn't want to be rude. She wondered if he knew a lot about her work with NVE.

"Breakfast would be great. I want bacon...bacon, and biscuits, and gravy, and pancakes, and everything else. I'm used to a big breakfast."

"I'll eat anything at this point."

Drova blushed, feeling his newfound girlfriend's warm hands delicately gripped, fingers interwoven with his own to create a near-swirling mirage of skin-tones, her paleness mixed with the grey-ish blue of his own skin. "But uh, yeah. I've uh, never really had a girlfriend before, mmm? This is going to be a first for me, so it's like, we're just closer friends now?" He asked. "Because like, if we were back at my home, I'd barely know the girls who tried courting me." His smile grew as he continued on, a warm, fluttering feeling developed deep in his core, burning up his insides.

The two awkwardly squeezed through the opening of the clubhouse back into the main lobby, with Drova aiming them in the direction of the small staircase up to the dining room, where the smell of breakfast was starting to waft down to them, the heavier-than-air particles practically sending the scent right into their noses.

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Postby Torsiedelle » Tue Oct 20, 2015 9:51 pm

Torii scratched her head. "Well, yes and no. I mean, we are closer as friends, I guess.", She said, "But it's different than being just friends. A boyfriend and girlfriend trust each other with more stuff than they would their normal friends, and they cuddle, and show affection, and just, well, uh, yeah. They are closer, I guess."

Torii followed him through the lobby, ignoring the noise and activity to her best ability; she had no place in it, and she only really acknowledge her sister and Rmwtyllin as they passed by. "Honestly, you're my first boyfriend.", She managed to get out. Her stomach was beginning to churn, and she felt a mixture of fear, excitement, and anxiety as she said it. She also felt a little bad, since she had Tsu on her mind, but she was with Drova, right? It was confusing.

"Courting? That sounds really unpleasant. Love shouldn't be something that you arrange from a distance or treat like some business move.", She said. "Not to say that we're uh, that way, or we aren't. I'm just saying, that sounds bad, Drova. Yuna seems like an exception to the girls in your homeland. They all sounds kind of cheap, no offense."
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Fvaarniimar
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Postby Fvaarniimar » Tue Oct 20, 2015 10:18 pm

"Fvaarniimar..." was pretty peaceful. Except for that heated debate. That uprising. The bandits.

And that thing her parents half-mentioned sometimes or had half-mentioned to them... They shushed it when she was around. Somehow she'd found herself thinking she was involved.

Even without that - she had been trained in weapons. The Corps carried weapons with lethal options. The Fiends...they were attacking... She sighed.

"I guess you are correct." Another question came to mind. No one had ever quite answered it. Maybe Katya would? "Is it okay when they attack first?" Her voice as she asked was best described as small. Caution was urged...being calm and polite could keep situations from escalating or defuse them. It seemed as though things were different here. Was that bad?

Fvaarniimar did its best to avoid any insult to others...and to shrug off insults to itself.

No matter how much they hurt. Once a visitor had insulted Rmwtyliin to her face. She had been pulled aside under a pretext and instructed not to retaliate in any way save not giving them the satisfaction of showing how upset she was. (She later learned that her siblings were pulled aside at that time as well.)

A smile. She had had a defender in spite of that - Ijj. It had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship but now we are lost to one another. (It had also been a minor diplomatic incident, but the king had been convinced that taking offense at the actions of a five year old commoner who the Fvaarniimarns would appropriately rebuke would make him look very silly. Said rebuke had been rather mild.)
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The BranRiech
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Postby The BranRiech » Wed Oct 21, 2015 4:15 am

Torsiedelle wrote:Torii scratched her head. "Well, yes and no. I mean, we are closer as friends, I guess.", She said, "But it's different than being just friends. A boyfriend and girlfriend trust each other with more stuff than they would their normal friends, and they cuddle, and show affection, and just, well, uh, yeah. They are closer, I guess."

Torii followed him through the lobby, ignoring the noise and activity to her best ability; she had no place in it, and she only really acknowledge her sister and Rmwtyllin as they passed by. "Honestly, you're my first boyfriend.", She managed to get out. Her stomach was beginning to churn, and she felt a mixture of fear, excitement, and anxiety as she said it. She also felt a little bad, since she had Tsu on her mind, but she was with Drova, right? It was confusing.

"Courting? That sounds really unpleasant. Love shouldn't be something that you arrange from a distance or treat like some business move.", She said. "Not to say that we're uh, that way, or we aren't. I'm just saying, that sounds bad, Drova. Yuna seems like an exception to the girls in your homeland. They all sounds kind of cheap, no offense."

"Well you're certainly not wrong." Drova sighed, panning around the room, but making no effort to approach any of them as the couple entered into the dining room through the next doorway, the entrance to the building behind them. "That's why I never really settled with anyone. They were all fake, like, pampered noble girls and stuff."

He squeezed her hand tightly for a moment, cherishing the feeling. "And well, I guess I always wanted someone who was just . . . Real? I guess if that makes sense."

The dining room seemed to be a little full, but obviously, there were still some free tables. He noticed Marcus and a few others having a chat around a table, and Drova offered a simple nod to the group, but his feet carried him elsewhere. Soon enough, the two were in the kitchen proper, faced with having to make their own food. "Oooh, yogurt?" He murmured, pulling a small tub of vanilla yogurt out from the fridge.

"Gonna' make something with this, if you want."

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Postby Torsiedelle » Wed Oct 21, 2015 1:16 pm

"Well, again, yes, and no.", Katya said. "And it really depends on what you think is right. Now, if someone says something that you disagree with, you obviously shouldn't attack them, but maybe you'd talk back. If someone did attack you, as in trying to hurt you or a friend, then yes, I'd say it's fair to do the same. That's what I think, anyways."

She was getting more and more confused. "I don't think I'm the best source for this kind of knowledge, sorry. I'm still pretty young myself."

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

"Real, huh?"

It made sense. There was nothing to be seen in someone who only cared about looks, or status, or who's entire life was being pampered and having some one-dimensional personality. Something about those kinds of people scared her, like they weren't really there. It was why she really cherished her own friends, since they were all so unique; it was the same reason that Marcus had really liked Gio, too, she thought, and now here Drova was, telling the same thing to her. It was funny.

It was a big step for the girl to walk into the kitchen, holding hands. She wondered if anyone would notice between their own conversations and work. She began to look through what was available when they made their way to the counter. "You like yogurt? I mean, I do too, but for breakfast, I like something fattier.", She said, finding some bacon. It was the cheap microwave kind, but hey, it would work for Torii, since bacon was bacon. Besides, cooking it would take too long...
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Postby The BranRiech » Wed Oct 21, 2015 4:19 pm

"I guess it sounds weird, but trust me, it's a complement when I say that you're the most . . . Well, real." Drova shrugged, holding onto the tub of yogurt before setting it on the counter. He went to the cupboards next, producing a wide-rimmed glass. Torii's assumptions had been absolutely correct, Drova having been fed up with the constant pestering and pressuring from his parents to find a girl to settle down with. He knew they meant no harm through wanting a Royal Heir, and that it had been the way it had been done for centuries, but none of the girls he was allowed to socialize with were any interesting.

With Torii, he was more likely to get into a gunfight on an adventure, which was something he definitely preferred when faced with the constant chatter of royal balls, father-issues, and tea-parties that the nobles back home always never ceased to talk about.

Digging through the fridge by this point, Drova started to stuff some cartons and cans of fruit, setting them next to the tub of yogurt. His intentions for breakfast were becoming quite clear at this point, taking the form of a parfait. His wings twitched, the cool air from the fridge rustling over his feathers, the wings tucked neatly into his back. "And bacon? Yeah, I'll try a bit." He smiled.

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Postby Cerillium » Wed Oct 21, 2015 7:12 pm

Image

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."


THE LOBBY

"Things are going to change around here. We're not beholden to that fuckwhistle any longer," Thaddeus twisted away from Ocho for the third time, and found yet another hand pressing down on his shoulder. His wrath had petered down to a low simmer and the motion was more an expression of immature stubbornness than combative.

Ocho breathed his frustration through flaccid nostrils. Twenty-nine minutes. That's precisely how long they'd been at this. Twenty-nine minutes of halfhearted physical aggression and diatribe. "You still need to play nice."

"Like fuck I do. Like fuck will I-"

"You still need to play nice." Ocho was growing weary of saying it. Both sets of hands curled into fists and docked with his hips. "Play nice, Thaddeus. Just a while longer. Or so help me-"

"Enough." The word hissed from Klaus' lips as he crossed the lobby was barely above a whisper. He was in no mood to deal with the old cyborg's temper nor any asinine debate from the xeno lawyer. His gaze traveled the room. The last villager had left, and the Building seemed to breathe an easy sigh. Klaus did not. Success breeds complacency. Complacency breeds failure. Only the paranoid survive. The avatar was far too paranoid to die anytime soon, and he would tolerate no more deaths on today's watch. "There is work to do. Find your balls or keep the fuck out of my way."

Crispy blue-grey eyes came to rest on the two girls occupying cozy chairs. He could understand their need for down time. He wasn't heartless, really. However much needed to be accomplished before anyone could truly relax. "Miss Rmwtyliin, Miss Katya, Miss Kelly," he nodded in greeting, "would you be so kind as to help Volker group the lobby chairs and tables closer to the window, and then bring in the wool blankets I've stacked on the front stoop? Things are so much easier when panicked people aren't tripping over the furniture."

The front desk cultist smiled at the girls as he folded his paper. He wouldn't mind if the girls continued their conversation while they worked. He found the topic comforting. "Ja, I'll do the heavy lifting. You two tell me where to put the stuff. You have better taste than I."

Klaus continued onward, his jack boots carrying him to the clinic's lobby door. The oddly matched cyborgs followed in his wake.




"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.


THE CLINIC

"Miss Nila has obligations to attend," Klaus replied in the construct's stead, "as does Miss Neste."

He peered at Septimus intently as he crossed the room to make himself cozy on Neste's bed. The cyborg was emotionally thin. Oh, not that there was anything wrong with that. Klaus' eyes twinkled and he imparted a friendly smile Septumus' way.

"I've had many names over the centuries, Septimus. As a God of War, I've taken on many incarnations. I ran with the Cherusci once upon a time, and held an allied coalition of Germanic tribes together in opposition to the Romans. Grand times. We were bastards. Took their forces on in Teutoburg Forest around 9 CE or so. I orchestrated Rome's greatest defeat, spanking them so soundly they refused to step a single toe past the Rhine. I had the balls to stand up for what I believed. I bore honor to extract revenge for all Rome had taken from us. Of course, good things never last, and the tribes turned on me. I let them assassinate my matrix. Destiny for that incarnation. That notwithstanding, my named and deeds were symbols of unity and freedom during the Unification of Germany shortly before World War II."

He crossed an ankle over a knee as Nila rose to dress. "I'm telling you this because it's a little known fact that I had a dog."

Klaus laughed. Hands formed a shape in the air roughly the size of a bread box. "Silly, small dog. He was just a scruffy thing that trotted at my ankles and shared the warmth of my bed. Not long after the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest, he was struck by a horse. My tribesmen carried him to me. I wept, Septimus. I held him while he shuddered his last breaths. He was my dear friend. He was my constant shadow. He was the laughter on my lips and the mirth in my eyes. If I, a war god, can weep over a humble dog's suffering, then you can shed tears for a lover willing to march into hell to protect you. Such is love. There is no force stronger."

"What was his name?" Nila's head poked through her shirt collar and her hands worked to tug the garment into place. "The dog."

"It would translate as Scratcher," Klaus patted his pockets. Fingers carefully extracted a small vial containing blue liquid. Time was running short and Neste needed attention.

"I find a duck's opinion of me is very much influenced by whether or not I have bread. I have something better for you instead. Maybe you'll stop growling at me when we pass in the halls? Unless it's an alternate Tuesday on full moon; I'll be displeased if you don't at least huff then, Miss Neste."

His thumb hooked her mouth's corner to pry her lips apart. "It's very sweet. Want to know what's sweeter? The knowledge that I crucified our dear Mr. Bodkins' human suit right after stealing this from his private stores."

The construct coughed. Eyelids fluttered open to reveal golden orbs. Klaus smoothed the feathers atop her head. "I told you we owed you our gratitude, Miss Neste. Were not for you, Bielefeld wouldn't have those lovely parks. I said I'd protect you. I honor my vows. I regret missing your valiant battle but I was walking abroad."

"You cru-"

"Big, rusty nails!" Klaus held his hands a foot apart and Neste lifted a brow ridge in doubt. His smile twitched. "Okay, I pinned him to the wall with sporks. You know I'm driven to add humor to everything. Now, please get dressed and sprinkle kisses on your good man then meet us in the dining room. We need to sort business. There's a Building Manager to find."

The avatar grunted as he stood. His matrix wouldn't last forever; All things in his pantheon cycled by Grandfather. "You'll find spare clothing in the box under your bed-" and thus it was so "- and there's coffee upstairs."

Klaus clasped Septimus' shoulder a moment, the gesture his effort to convey that everything would be alright, and departed with Nila and the other cyborgs in tow.





"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

THE DINING ROOM

Amara's expression didn't waver as she locked gaze with Romulus. "550 processes are devoted to figuring out how to remove the corrupt code from my systems. The other 2 are working on you."

"Two?" Marcus raised a brow.

"Make that one, I wasn't optimized."*

"Anyway, let's stick with the clinic," Adrastus coughed to draw attention back to the meeting. A friendly nod to the Luxan indicated he meant no insult to Insidious. "If hell breaks loose again, we'd have to break into your quarters to get the supplies if you were unavailable. A common area is best."

He nodded to Insidious for Sandy's benefit. "This lovely creature is Insidious, one of the Luxans. Her magic and tech are unorthodox by most standards, and she's a follower of the Great Old Ones, if memory serves. I'm told she also dependable and a valued Resident here. Thaddeus speaks highly of her, at any rate."

Marcus studied Giovenith's posture while his abbot sorted things. The carnival tent memory sprung to mind. Such a simple thing, straightening up in her chair, but he saw shades of the elegant woman the godling had the potential to become. He took a cue from her and also neatened his posture. A small crept to his lips. An adventure! They hadn't had one in a long time. "Of course. We can leave as soon as you want. How many are coming with us?"

"Not many," replied a voice from the doorway. Klaus, still flanked by the large cyborgs and odd anthro lizard, had arrived. The former Nazi's uniform was just as sharp as always, and Marcus wondered if innate magic kept him looking clean.

The avatar's gaze feel upon the warriors' table. Excellent. They were already gathering. "I recommend we keep that party small. Giovenith and you, perhaps, and Septimus as the elected official. He'll be up shortly. It's a business request, really, but politicians are better suited for it than healers or soldiers. We'll need hands here in the event Fiends return before the quest is finished."

Klaus' paused to scratch behind Nick's ear. "Still aright, Kitty? You'll be fine, I'm sure. Clever cats are experts at avoiding bad things. You're as clever as they come."

The new group took up seats at the soldier's table, with Ocho making due by squatting on his haunches as was his custom.

"We'll need all the forces we can muster," Klaus acknowledged Romulus' offer. "I'm Klaus, a fellow Resident. We've lost my cultist forces beyond a few Men. Our asset is Resident diversity however. We have a deep knowledge pool here. We have strong bodies, seasoned warriors, skilled pilots, and steadfast young men and women willing to face any challenge to protect their friends."

His eyes drifted towards Torsii. He smiled.





"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?


THE ROOF

"Hellllooooo," Myra leaned down to regard the water cooler spigot. A finger played with the assembly, gently pushing the plastic tab downward to expel some water into the tray. "Anyone home?"

"What the hell are you doing, daft girl," came the reply, although the speaker himself was not inside the cooler. He leaned against the helicopter's fuselage, a rag in his hands. Bran's bird was freshly cleaned and refueled.

The girl regarded the WWII British aviator, wary of him. She'd dealt with the avatars and their leaders before but hadn't really spoken at all to the individual men and women cultists. "Um, you're a Lad, right?"

The aviator's goggle lenses glinted as he dipped his head. "Yeah, you could say I am. I'm not a llama, am I?"

"No, I suppose not," Myra nervously plucked her hair from behind her ears to curtain a reddening face. "I, um, that is - I wanted to ask you questions about pantheons. Like, the ones represented here."

Not wanting to be easily dismissed, the girl's feet carried her several small steps toward the Lad. "Because, um, there weren't many Lads or Men in the battle. I'm worried about that. About the angel and demon. I didn't see them. And about the Lads and Men, because you guys are always here."

The cultist's expression flickered to reveal bemusement before settling into his typical, narrow-lipped frown. "Here now, what's it to you where we are or aren't. Might we were busy elsewhere? What about that, girl? You think we have nothing better to do than run to your rescue?"

Myra's gut told her this was bluster. She shifted her weight between her feet as she mustered up more resolve. Lads were lots more benign that the insane Men but they were still tricky fuckers with short tempers. "I- I'm concerned, that's all. Because you guys are part of the family. Even if you aren't always around. So I came up here because I thought someone should check to see you were okay, and, well? And this is the only place I know you guys walk around in the open."

The man's jaw worked. Nobody ever checked on them. Here stood an awkward little girl, bold as brass in front of him, and she'd come all the way up to the roof to see for herself that they were alright. "Well, I'll be chuffed," he shook his head in disbelief. "Girl, how about a cuppa tea?"

Myra gulped. Oh, cool! "Yes, please!"

The cultist tossed his rag into the water bucket and gestured to a corner of Bran's hangar where several low crates were grouped around a drum topped by a scrap board. He pushed aside some tools and pulled a steaming teapot and two cups from his pocket.




"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

THE BURROWS

Margaret tapped her cheek with a long finger as she considered Primordial's question. What would classify as strange? Everything was strange to strangers, and the Burrows were so close to the Freywold that strange things wandered in daily. Mundane things like the singing tuna might boggle their minds, unless they had those back home. Of course they did. Everyone had singing tuna, didn't they? And the truly and horribly strange things in life didn't often pay them a visit. Except the Fiends. They were the strangest things ever. Damned oversized rats!

"There are settlements tucked here and there but the closest major city is what I've already said. There's alien stuff south of here. By that, I mean aliens from space. That whole area is treacherous. Most people stay out if they know what's good for them. The Freywold has its own cities but those are hit and miss. The Elves are cruel, the Dwarves aren't friendly outside their own people, the Dragons don't take kindly to uninvited guests, and everyone groans whenever they encounter a Hero. Don't get me started on those."

"Our sheep were torched," a cyclops huffed. "The Fiends have been slaughtering them. But this time? No. They were subjected to Fiends, and then to strange grass that lacerated flesh and bone, and then a massive magical fire sprung to life from nowhere to wither the grass before it could kill us all. The sheep never had a chance."

"What kind of fire, did you say?" asked a voice from the crowd.

"Magic," the cyclops reiterated. "There wasn't no dragons in the skies. I would have seen 'em. There wasn't no salamanders running in the fields. We would have stumbled on 'em ages ago. No, this fire was sudden, like it was unleashed by wizards."

"Maybe it was Old Sam what spared you, up from Pressly Woods?" the same voice asked.

The cyclops' head shook. "Nope. Old Sam sets 'em good, but never could he set something so big without summoning a demon to help. No demons. We would have smelled the brimstone. And Old Sam, he don't care about helping nobody but himself. He could have stopped them werefoxes what was eating all the virgins last spring, but for his being too hermit-y."

"Well," Margaret chimed in before the entire village could get in on the subject of Old Sam (a favorite gossip pastime). "You two will be wanting breakfast perhaps? Come on, then. My inn's open, if my sister hasn't had a lie in. I'll put on some eggs for you both. Maybe you could tell us a bit more of where you come from?"

Shrewd woman! Half the village would cram into her pub just to hear Amanda and Primordial's tale.





"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.


THE LIBRARY

Rache returned to the mundane task of tucking the chairs into tables, nodding now and then as Willow posed his explanations. The library had never seen so many people. It seemed overly solemn now as if the room itself mourned the absent sounds of voices and laughter. Pity. It was a good room for philosophers and dreamers though most never spent any time inside it.

"Ponies aren't apes," he said as the last chair slipped into place. "Anthropoid apes are inherently violent. Humans and chimps both solve problems by insight. Humans and chimps both fight over territory, food resources and so on. But humans have something chimps don't - religion and ethnic culture. Violence is instinctive for survival yet it becomes a potent tool when two groups clash over their stupid ideals. Neither side gives. War and strife thrive in the wake."

The host stooped to scoop up scattered paper. "I don't know anything about your society. Is it childish to straighten up after only one perilous event? Hardly. It means you have your priorities straight. That's just my opinion."

The paper rustled in his hands as he aligned all the sheets. Rache plucked a single sheet from them before setting the stack on the table. He held the prize out for Willow's inspection.

"Looks like you're popular."

One of the children had attempted to draw the Pony although his or her talent was too underdeveloped to call the work a masterpiece. The Pony's feet were entirely too small, and the head wasn't to scale for the body, but the face bore a smile.

"I'm Rache, Hans' inner daemon. He's somewhat lost his mind. I take over when that happens. It's a form of penance, that his body lends itself to civic duties to make up for gross misjudgements. So here we are, and the library benefits from our work. Do not worry, Mr. ---? I don't harm Ponies or other passive creatures. My wrath is reserved for war and its participants rather than the innocents caught in its path. I've seen you around. You're the artist living with the godling, right?"




"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.






*Amara/Marcus dialog credit: Agy.
Last edited by Cerillium on Wed Oct 21, 2015 7:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination.

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Primordial Luxa
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Posts: 12092
Founded: Oct 30, 2012
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Wed Oct 21, 2015 7:36 pm

Dining Room
“I was just going to catalogue it in my room where I can fit it into more exotic storage spaces. But my plan is defiantly to have it in a more access about area. It’s just easier for me to make dimensionally transcendent boxes in my room than in the lobby.” Insidious said matter of factly “But I can set it all up in their if you like. In anycase ill wrangle up everything I can.”

Insidious waved at Sandy and her skin took on a friendly yellow texture with white fireworks around her lymph nodes. “Its nice to spoken so fondly of. If you ever need help with a magic or science that seems so crazy it might as well be magic, feel free to give me a ring.”

Burrows
Primordial head was spinning a bit from all of the different locations he would need to explore in the coming months but quieted his busy head by focusing on the things he was near. Namely this mountain and the various strange things going on here. Dragons and Salamanders would be interesting to interesting to meet, if they actually where dragons and not Lloigers, but judging by the description of their fire that seemed most likely. He thought that Aegis would most likely not rest until he had killed if a dragon if he heard about one of them and Insidious would marvel at the idea of raiding ones trove. Assuming these dragons used virgin hair and jewels like the ones he had read about.

However this Old Sam fellow made Primordial smile. A hermit in the backwoods of a mysterious hill with rumors of dark magic and demons surrounding him. Primordial simply couldn’t think of a lovelier encounter if he made it himself, he would need to seek out this hermit soon with a house warming basket of spells and knowledge. Witchs and warlocks needed to stick together so he would pay the man a visit and see if he was a likeable chap. He payed close attention to their conversation trying to determine how much magic was appropriate to these people. He would offer to clone some sheep for these people he thought he could get away with that as a trade for goods, but he didn’t want to worry them with Arcanotech strangeness so he would ask later once he knew them better.

At the mention of food Primordials smile grew and he said “That’s very kind of you Miss Margaret. I personally would love a good meal right about now I am simply famished.”
Last edited by Primordial Luxa on Thu Oct 22, 2015 11:25 am, edited 1 time in total.
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.

Monfrox wrote:But it's not like we've known Prim to really stick with normality...

P2TM wrote:HORROR/THRILLER Winner - Community Choice Award For Favorite Horror/Thriller Player: Primordial Luxa


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Germanic Templars
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Posts: 20396
Founded: Jul 01, 2011
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Germanic Templars » Wed Oct 21, 2015 9:49 pm

Lucius's Room

The apartment room was mostly quiet, with the occasional sounds of a page turning from the dining table. Lucius sat with a wall of books surrounding him, both on the table and the floor that stacked up high, enough so to where one would wonder where the archangel kept all of the books since most of the bookshelves stored rather trivial novelty and other materials used for entertainment rather than studying or learning.

Diagonally across from the archangel was Superbia, who took more time napping after the loud "bump". Resting his head on the forearms as he napped for a short moment.

"Ragh, dammit." Cursed Lucius as he closed another book, placing to the tower of books of to his side. A subtle sense of frustration grew in him as he tried to find ways to regenerate his and Superbia's strength faster. His eyes locked onto Superbia. For almost two millenniums I shared a body - my body - with that demon, and yet I never knew what he, or any other demon dreams about. removing the notion of what demons dream about, especially Superbia, he placed his hand on the demon's snout. "Hey, Sups, wake up. I need you to do me a favor."

The demon growled for a moment before moaning out, "What do you want?" He took the angel's hand off his head as he raised it up.

"I need you to go look around for me real quick. I need to know what happened. As you can feel, we are not in the dimension we know, and with the rac-"

"Yeah, yeah i'll go. Shit." The demon stood up, stretching out his back before heading to the door.

"Oh, by the way, if you see something that is not friendly, i.e. it attacks you, then make distance and run back. You should know by now." Lucius advised. Despite this warning, and his own current state, Superbia would not be able to bring himself to run from a fight. To him, given his disposition, an act such as running from a fight would be undoing of who he was. Nevertheless, demon set out through the halls. Passing by Thriller's room to hear the Emperor and Dr. Smith arguing about something before making his way to the kitchen on the second floor.

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Mincaldenteans
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Posts: 9450
Founded: Feb 17, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Mincaldenteans » Wed Oct 21, 2015 11:14 pm

Mezran & Tavana
"Bah! You worry too much, woman. You are not my mother, at least she had the decency of letting me tend to my own wounds!" Mezran grunted in frustration and shirked away from Tavana. The proud warrior had more than a few injuries sustained by fiends and grass blades than he had (initially) admitted. It wasn't until his color of his rich brown skin had changed slightly to a sickly pale shade had he admitted that more than a few teeth and claws had made its way through his studded armor. But he was a Klingon warrior! And warriors did not whine and mewl when injured, they pressed on and made tales of their great deeds in battle by their scars.

"Will you stop tending to my wounds," he griped again, half-halfheartedly batting the woman's hands away. The two had been at this for about as long as the sun had risen and the defenders had relaxed their vigil against the horde of mindless beasts.

"With this kind of gratitude, she must have hoped an early grave for you instead," Tavana bit back with a wide toothy grin, tightening the bandage around Mezran's muscled trunk. Tavana saw the humor light back in Mezran's eyes who chuffed a sound close to a laugh. The night had been long and she knew the captain had still taken a personal affront to being lifted away from battle. Such were Klingon men, far too sensitive, far too proud, all the more stupid because of it. She couldn't help but find it a tad endearing in Mezran's single-minded approach. And simple-minded.

"There," Tavana said, satisfied with the makeshift bandage that was now being hastily covered by Mezran's (damaged) armor. He grunted something that Tavana took as a thanks and straightened his posture while he fiddled with his arm bracers.

"And what of you?" He inquired as he fussed with his armor pieces. For being made of mostly leather and metal pieces, he had forgotten just how many irritating pieces there were. He glanced at Tavana, the woman looked relatively unscathed save for a few bandages of her own that ran disproportionately from arm to leg on the left side. Some of her wounds had seeped through their dressing, a mess splotch of magenta coating the areas.

"I'm not nearly as fussy or delicate as you are," Tavana said with a wink and moved past him to join the others in the dining room. She had shrugged off her injuries, having sustained far worse back in the homeworld. Though she realized she should have paid closer attention, those cutting green slivers had taken her off guard when she had tackled a fiend and ended their engagement with a coup de grâce, only moments later to barely escape with her life as grass had sprouted through her enemy and lacerated her exposed left side. Being whisked away in large rectangular pots was a welcomed sight, dying by grass was not the way Tavana had envisioned her end.

Mezran followed her, a boot heel away at her bandaged left as though she needed someone to protect her. Tavana said nothing to his own smothering, entering the room to find the fellow Resident defenders and slid in gracefully (as graceful as one could get with a 7 foot male Klingon right behind her) to join them without interrupting them except for a nod in greeting.

--//\\--

The Guild
"Are you sure you're alright?" Cherry asked, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes in typical fashion when the Mesmer was unconvinced. Anais looked much more tired than the ritualist let on, holding onto her staff even as she was seated, sporting a smile that was hardly reassuring.

"I'm fine, Cherry, it is nothing more than what could be expected," Anais said, she made a shrug and yawned. The night's duty had tired her immensely, but she knew a good night (or day) rest would restore her. Food was being served at the dining room, but the breakfast items were a strange assortment from what Anais could steal glances from. Circular fried pastries of flat and squared varieties baffled her, but the sight of muffins, bacon, and what smelled like herbal tea brought a growl from her stomach. The ritualist smiled, rising up from her seat and when Cherry moved to help her, Anais only looked at the Mesmer defiantly. She was not some old woman that needed tending to, and she'd be damned if she was going to be treated as such simply for being fatigued.

Instead of hurting her friend's feelings, she lifted her hand and pointed vaguely at Traxt, who still lied in rest but was slowly being woken up. "You should look to him, Alexia mentioned he pushed too many spells too quickly. He needs more of your help than I do."

"You're as stubborn as he is, but fine," Cherry griped, shaking her head as she joined her other guildmates surrounding the elementalist. They too, would join the defenders in the dining room shortly, as soon as Traxt was on his feet with an arm around Erick's neck for support.

The beads, shells and chitin pieces on her outfit sounded softly as she struggled to keep her balance with the staff held firmly. "They did well," Anais said softly, feeling the Monk's presence by her without looking.

"I expected nothing less," Alexia affirmed with a nod, looking on as their friends disappeared into the dining hall. She too had been vexed by the night's ordeal, though Alexia remained stoic. Her stomach grumbled out loud and the two women giggled after a moment.

"Let's head in," Alexia suggested much, a grin forming as she took the woman's had for support. Before Anais could protest, the monk shook her head, "You're not fooling anyone, Anais. Everyone needs help, Cherry's just too polite to tell you otherwise."

The ritualist said nothing, only nodding as the two walked into the dining room. A group of healers were easily recognizable and Anais caught the monk's attention, pointing them out and suggesting they join. The two walked toward the table, shifting through the crowded hall, careful not to accidentally bump into anyone before standing by the edge of the table.

"Might we join you?" Alexia inquired by way of greeting.
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