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

[Monfrox]

Brit jolted and whipped her head at the door when she heard the crash.

"What the-?"

Was all she could say before Sandy went on with the plan.

"Check the floors. Got it." She said, standing up and going to the door with him.

She heard him mutter and smirked.

"You kidding? Not in this place. Never." She chuckled before heading out.

She went down from every floor, checking doors and hallways and listening for anything she could hear. A hand was holding her SOG knife that was clipped to her BDU pants. After she deducted that whatever happened wasn't on any of these floors, she went down to the lobby and holy shit, there was a lot going on. She arrived a little earlier than Sandy (as for some reason she couldn't get onto the 5th floor) and looked at the crowd.

"What happened? Is everyone okay?"

[Swith Witherward]

ROOF
Klaus' mouth curled into a smile. Willow's assessment pertaining to the imbalance of power. It also didn't help that the That Guy Law was eternally in effect, sparing nothing. The smallest sandbox to the greatest pantheons: there was always That Guy that didn't pull his weight, or who kicked over the sandcastles. Gods were notorious for dick moves and possessive infighting, especially the spoiled deities. Yet the Pony's no-nonsense, business approach was intriguing.

Ah, but the problem wasn't just the gods. "Preconceived notions and dis-remembered theology would need to be scrubbed as well. I don't imagine the Christians, Jews and Muslims wouldn't be very pleased to admit they all in fact do follow the same deity. Then you have those that follow their gods with such zeal that, for them, the knowledge of other gods' existence causes them to mentally shut down. Some emerge from their experience a much better person, while others emerge with a loathing and a desire to destroy all the believers clinging to other pantheons. And, finally, you have the gods that don't play well with others. These are mostly chaos gods; their followers are just as untamed... and unhinged. I suppose the only ones in the universe to truly suffer would be the atheists. They've spent their lives in disbelief. The manifestation of gods would throw all that logic to the wind. They could no longer deny - hence they would perhaps be coined anti-theist. Admittedly, I've never been one to explore the mortal psyche. Mortals have progressed rather nicely without gods' interventions. How much of a disservice would we pay them by manifesting now? The customer base is fickle. The pantheons equally so. There are bound to be hard feelings once gods explain that all things happen for a purpose - or because chaos. A mother imploring Elohim to save her dying child is too emotionally raw to understand that the child's death has bearing on future events. She would come away from the experience bitter towards him. Ah, but destiny and predetermination are subject to the pantheon's standard operating practices as well."

His eyes trailed off into the distance, reflecting on the patch of earth and sky that Willow had gestured to earlier. The task was overwhelming. His own pantheon didn't set down hard rules other than "Revel in the Insanity!" A soft, fluffy cloud scooted across the robin's egg blue sky, briefly shaping itself into a stretched out bunny before allowing its edges to thin out and vanish.

"Perhaps the solution isn't the gods at all. Perhaps all mankind needs it to clap its hands and believe in fairies? The gods fight in their heavens. The Greater Beings fight in their non-realm. Leave those lofty battles to them. Instead, allow the mortals' eyes to see the mysteries of fairy rings and crop circles, to appreciate the beauty of angels and demons, and to accept that logic and mythical do in fact exist side by side." His fingers steepled again, and Klaus pressed the tips to his lips and allowed his mind to drift as freely as the bunny cloud until it, too, stretched thin and reformed in the present.

"You asked about godlings? Yes, there are. We have two in this Building, Giovenith being one of them. Naomi is the other, although she was forced to become fully fledged before she was ready. Gods, half-gods - yes, of course. Giovenith is unique in that she's the child of a Greater Being. She's aware of her mother and in communion with her. It sets her apart from gods born from gods, or the formed gods." His eyes mischievously sparkled. "I'm surprised she's never sought out her closest on-hand peer, Iesous. He came to Bielefeld now and then, mostly when the Devourers got a wee bit too close. Nice person, very quiet and introspective."


THE BURROWS
Margaret accepted Amanda and Primordial's gratitude, offering her own promise that the two Gatejumpers were welcome to return any time. Their visit was good for business, but now she faced a rising stack of dirty dishes and pots.

Although many families had gathered in the churchyard to mourn their losses or to extend love to their neighbors, the village itself had slowly returned to a more normal pace. Stone buildings flanked the grey cobblestones twisting through the shopkeeper's row. A smallish giant could traverse the spaces between, yet it was still small enough to be charmingly cozy for the smallest citizens. The wind played with gaily painted shingles suspended beside shop doors. These advertised the cobbler, the barber, the bookseller, the herbalist, and the gemist alike. Freywold's influence was heavy here, despite the village functioning as a far flung suburb of Ascalon, and the air carried whimsical smells (although a few shops, such as the booksellers, held a foreboding air to them.)


ELEVATOR
A soft growl rumbled from the Astartes as he pressed his palms to the floor and found his balance. He pushed his torso away, falling into a comfortable, kneeling squat beside the Luxan.

"I'm fine, Insidious, thank you," his eyes flickered over her, assessing any possible damage to her pretty frame. Finding nothing outwardly amiss, he turned his attention to the elevator's interior doors.

They had twisted upon impact, the lips pressing themselves tightly closed when not otherwise overlapping. Deuce realized there would be no chance of parting them. Muffled voices called out to them from the other side.



SECOND FLOOR
"It should have an access door," Marcus pulled a small tool from a pocket and jimmied it between the floor doors, then applied a bit of muscle to part the metal panels enough for fingertips to gain purchase. A thin crack appeared, and the shaft's disturbed dust billowed out to caress the boys' skin.

The pair put their backs and legs into it, working in tandem to ease the doors backward to expose the shaft's cold hollowness. Marcus was at once glad he'd followed the prince up the stairs: the elevators rails and cables could have snared Drova's wings, possibly tearing them off as the boy attempted to descend. He carefully peered over the edge, pleased to find the car's top was intact directly below, and the machinery governing it stood proud atop it. Dropping down the scant six feet would be easy for either boy.

He offered a genuine smile to Drova. "Piece of cake, right? I don't need light, thank to my optic. Your eyes are okay in dark places? I'm thinking the hatch might be in that clear space right below us." He looked over the cables attached to the car. Two were missing, although Marcus could just make out their tails dangling further up the shaft. "Looks like the weight was too much, there's supposed to be at least three cables. Hey, watch your wings around it. If it's got frayed wires, it could snag your feathers. Man, I imagine that shit getting pulled out would hurt."



LOBBY
"Lift fell," Volker mopped his brow with a sleeve as he addressed Sandy. "Don't know who is inside." And then, because expediency seemed most prudent, he pinched his eyes closed to better focus his imagination before adding, "I firmly believe there's a crowbar right inside Representative Itum's robes."

And so it was, although the effort taxed the cultist.

Neste's ears quivered as she tracked Septimus, but she wouldn't put herself in the crowd. Too many bodies, and too many opportunities for physical contact. She extended the tendrils of her mind instead, seeking to touch the unknown beings trapped within the car. She could easily ascertain their physical and mental states.

Myra squealed anew as the construct yelped and wilted, her reptilian hands firmly clapped to her head. The teen's reply to Nick fell away as she unceremoniously shifted him into a one-armed embrace. His lower half unceremoniously swung as her free hand swept out to clasp onto Neste's shirt the moment the lizard woman - was she a woman? Was she a reptile? Myra didn't know, and wasn't impolite enough to ask - listed towards her.

"Two occupants," Neste groaned as her tendrils recoiled from Insanity. "One of them is Chaos tainted. I- I won't scan either more. I don't know who the other is."

She grasped Myra's arm to steady herself. Thank goodness, good child, for your long sleeves! "They're alive," she blinked away the stinging tears forming at her eyes' corners.

"You should sit or something," Myra stooped slightly to ease Nick to the floor. "There's some chairs by the window. We'll help you there, okay?"

Neste's eyes sought Septimus' gaze. Her look conveyed her reassurances that she would be fine, and then she allowed the others to lead her to the sitting area.



OLD SAM
... to be continued.

[The BranRiech]

"It'd hurt more than a bit, to start." Drova grinned, chuckling as he hyped himself up for the leap down to the elevator. It wasn't too far down, to be completely fair, but it could still be challenging to get anyone out if they were injured. "I lose feathers all the time, but that's natural. When they get pulled out, it's the worst." He rolled his shoulders back, brushing his dusty hands against his pants, leaving streaks of gray particles on his clothes.

With the door opened, the Prince took the opportunity to observe the cables, leading down to the dropped elevator-car. "And uh . . . Yeah, I can see fine." He whispered, pulling off his glasses, letting his eyes adjust to the absence of light, the only source of it being the door they were standing in. He could see their shadows dancing on the opposite wall.

"Okay . . . I'll go down first, yeah? Use my wings as a sort of . . . Parachute, right? Right word?"

It wasn't that far.

Drova gripped the doors, stepping right up to the ledge.

The next second, the Prince was gone, a whoosh of air was the only noise that accompanied him as he spread his wings as far as permissible, dampening his speed as he dropped onto the roof of the car.

[Zarkanians]

Cat jumped back as something very, very heavy crashed to the ground inside the elevator shaft a few feet in front of him. His elation jolted loose, to be replaced by terror that hadn't really dissipated in the first place. What the Hell had been in there?! Gravitic engines didn't make sounds like that! He backed away, letting the newcomers (wonders for later contemplation) get as close as they wanted. They seemed concerned and frightened, but not to the degree that he was--that helped him relax, a little. If a gravitic engine made an unusual sound, it meant something very, very bad for everyone nearby. Nobody was screaming or sobbing--in fact, they seemed to believe that people were still alive in there. So what was inside that shaft? What did these people mean when they said "elevator"?

There wasn't much he could do to help, given his total ignorance of the situation or the people involved, and stopping someone to ask for an explanation would only reduce their ability to handle things. He did his best, therefore, to remain out of the way, and to absorb as much of the situation as he could.

[Highfort]

Septimus let out a quiet gasp, nearly a mutter beneath his breath, as Neste nearly collapsed, the tether between them allowing him a brief glimpse into her thought processes. Though the pain was viewed from the perspective of an outsider - too disconnected for Septimus to really understand how much agony contact with Chaos put the construct in - the cyborg could tell that she was in bad shape. A teenage girl helped Neste over to a seat, and Neste's gaze confirmed for Septimus that she'd be alright.

Very well, he had a job to do. The cultist who was addressing the problem had been kind enough to provide him with a crowbar with which to solve it. Apply leverage to door through use of crowbar; door opens. Simple.

Of course, several seconds later, Septimus found himself working up a mild sweat, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as the elevator door refused to budge. Offering a sheepish glance at the others, he relented, "Would anyone care to give it a try? Once we have the doors pried slightly open, we can pull the two apart."

Stepping back from the crowbar, the shaped metal wedged firmly between the unyielding door lips, the cyborg gestured toward the crowd that they could all have their shot before quietly making his way to Sandy's side.

"While you're here and I'm not preoccupied with something else - feats of strength aren't my, well, strength, you see," the Representative scratched the back of his head as his tired, slightly-feverish brain fumbled to find the words even as it ran on empty, "I... The Manager has been kind enough to provide us with access to the fifth floor - I have the key - to construct our hospital wing. Unfortunately, I'm not sure he has the desire to expand the ground floor and, frankly, with the state he's in..."

Septimus paused to gesture at the pale man, caked makeup only emphasizing the Manager's irate mood at having one of the elevators in the Building destroyed.

"I don't think it would be wise to ask him. I told him that I needed to ask the healers for details on what exactly we needed, so he just went and provided me with the floor space. It'll be up to us to..." he paused, trying to find the word, "Will it into existence, I suppose, and fill it with supplies and staff. I don't suppose you've got any ideas for that?"

[Monfrox]

Brit stared at the elevator door and watched Septimus try his best to no avail to get it open. She remembered and went over a few things she saw over her time and had an idea.

"Maybe we need another one! I have an Entrenching Tool, you think that'd work? Two people working on something is always better than one."

She also went over any other equipment that she had with her that might help in the current situation but she was slowly finding nothing else but the E-tool to help. As much as she loved guns, she doubted that they would help at all in this predicament.

[Northwest Slobovia]

Sandy caught Neste's explanation of the situation. Oh, a telepath! Good to know we've got two possible patients in there. Um, unless she can't pick up unconscious people.

"I... The Manager has been kind enough to provide us with access to the fifth floor - I have the key - to construct our hospital wing. Unfortunately, I'm not sure he has the desire to expand the ground floor and, frankly, with the state he's in..." [...] I don't suppose you've got any ideas for that?"

Sandy sighed with exasperation, then looked at Itum with a pained expression. "Fifth floor? No, that won't work at all. This --" he gestured at the broken elevator "-- is precisely why we need it down here: the elevators aren't adequate in an emergency." Sandy shook his head and looked over at the Manager. "I'll talk to him about it in a little while. Yes, I have ideas, but I need to get some details from Anais, since her magic covers a large, but fixed, area. Anyway, first things first: we need to find out the conditions of the people in the elevator."

Sandy walked over to the crowbar Itum had left jammed between the doors, and gave it an experimental tug. It wasn't going anywhere.

"Maybe we need another one! I have an Entrenching Tool, you think that'd work? Two people working on something is always better than one."

Sandy nodded at her. "Yeah, that should work. Get it wedged in there, and pull away from me." He waved Volker over. "Take the end of the crowbar and pull with me."

There was a brief delay as Brit got her army shovel in place and Volker joined the two of them. Sandy got both of their attentions. "OK, on three. One... Two... Three!" They heaved, and with a grinding shriek, the doors slid open a couple of inches. They pried the inner doors open about the same distance as well.

That was enough for Sandy, and he pressed his face up to the gap to look into the space behind the doors. He saw just the two people Neste mentioned, and they were on their feet. "Insidious, are you all right? And how about you over there? Anybody else in there, hidden behind the cabinet?"

[OOC: Brit appears courtesty of Monfrox]

[Fvaarniimar]

<Alive?  Who's alive?  What's going on?>  Two people.  Nick's ears perked up, straining to catch anything during the few seconds prior to Myra's moving herself and Neste to the seating area. A moment after she set him down, Nick pawed her ankle.  <She (Image of Neste) wasn't feeling well earlier.  I think she's hurt. She keeps sort of grimacing.>

They all sat down, Nick curling up and licking himself thoroughly, as Sandy and Brit worked at the door. It looked like a tough job. They were cool people, and friends. Whoever was inside...probably Residents. The cat, who really wished he could do something to help, felt quite frustrated. Short of trying to lubricate the gap or something, which he doubted anyone would be happy about, he wasn't sure what he, as a tiny cat without opposable thumbs, could do. It was like the library - like, oh, a basketball game like on TV. He'd be useless at one of those, staying on the sidelines... Twitch.

There are people on the sidelines at those games. Women in skirts with balls he'd long thought would be fun to bat around. He didn't have those, and he wasn't a woman...but did the cheers help? His eyes widened. "Maaow?"

Uh. "Go Sandy! Goo Brit!" What else did those people do? Make rhymes. Count. "One-two-three-four! Uhhhh....Come...nope...Go...open...UP THAT DOOR! Five, six, seven, eight...Uhh..." Nuzzle foot. <Psst, Myra! What's a good line rhyming with eight?>

---

Rmwtyliin quietly entered the dining room, walking around until she found someone who didn't appear to be busy with any sort of task.  "Hello.  I heard a... loud noise and I am wondering if you can tell me the cause?"

---

Kwa'a rubbed her leg - it felt a little sore. The grass... It might be wise to find Kale at some point.

[Chedastan]

Romulus went about to focus on other things as the meeting concluded, such as trying to come up with a list of items to acquire while he's at the city. Obviously he was intending to go to the place he had preferred, and valued more. He still honestly didn't think the sheep were worth any effort at this time, as it meant less time for training, and more time for mucking about. He figured they were probably going to need tons of ammunition, way more explosives, and definitely more firearms, and anything else they come across whilst there, that was very clear. Of course he couldn't quite just write anything down yet as he had no idea of what kind of weapons the city would have exactly, no doubt they'll buy something that could be lacking when compared to Wilhelm-Grade weaponry and material. At least that what he has to assume in this dimension, and pretty much anywhere in general that wasn't the Wilhelm Imperium, expect the worst from outsider tools when compared to what you knew well.

As he contemplated what he should list, he heard a loud crashing noise coming from where the elevator is. He snapped his head towards where the elevator to this floor was, concerned to what sounded like something bad. And indeed it was as it looked the elevator broke, and from he could tell already from the building's owner, he'll be furious to high hell about this, but what he wondered more was how he'll deliver punishment if he was going to. Regardless though, the General knew he'll clutter that area more if he were to come over there, and he wasn't sure what he could even do if he did. It was probably going to be handled out by someone surely. Good thing he took the stairs before that, as it could have been him having done it instead.

"Hello. I heard a... loud noise and I am wondering if you can tell me the cause?"

He turned his head around to look down at the girl before him. "Something big and heavy probably, enough to take out the elevator." He informed her of what he think happened.

[Giovenith]

"The reason I asked is because I thought that, perhaps, there were other children out there in the world we didn't know about," he said, giving a limp gesture to the beyond. "I suppose I thought that, if there were, perhaps they could make an effort to inherit and update the system. Though saying it out loud like that, I can see better how overly simplistic that is. Sorry."

Of course it was. The other gods, no matter how ancient, had beginnings themselves, didn't they? Times changed and turned old heroes into nightmares for newer perspectives. Give it a few more centuries, they would have found themselves in the same position. He had to stop thinking of this issue in such mortal, tangible boundaries.

But Willow couldn't be entirely blamed for that. While the humans for all their time had worshiped gods of secrets, gods of mysterious ways, gods of untouchable choices, the ponies had had the dumb luck of having gods who took the opposite approach. The princesses were that--their princesses--politicians. Tangible figures who sat at an office in the capital city rather than within some unreachable Heaven, free to walk up to, to talk to, their choices down in writing and justification for everypony to clearly see. Celestia demonstrated little tolerance for those disturbing such order: Discord had been imprisoned in stone, Nightmare Moon imprisoned in the moon, and who knew how many other gnashing beings in Tartarus. He was used to things being easier, and more business-like than this.

Willow was beginning to see that he was essentially the inter-dimensional equivalent to a clueless first worlder. It wasn't that it wouldn't be nice if things actually worked close to the way he was used to everywhere, it's just that way of life was way rarer than he realized and not just easily applied everywhere else.

But merely realizing that didn't help form any actual solutions. Willow was loathe to bemoan a situation but come away without any new ways to handle it.

"Unfortunately, I don't think there's going to be any solutions where every belief wins," he admitted with a sigh, flattening his ears. "It's a skeptic's age, and it's clear we can no longer rely on people believing stories for the sake of believing. If we give them a new reason to believe, believe in anything, they will share it one another, they will come to conclusions based on these things, and many will feel jilted when those conclusions are not what they expected. If we keep it too hush, our current problem will never be corrected. If we're too open, it will lead to many crises of belief. That's all if we can figure out any way to influence at all."

Every turn in the problem seemed to collapse in on itself no matter how hard he tried to find a way, leading them in a circle back to where they started. The Devourers were smart, or at least lucky. Their trap was built from the mechanics of the system itself, tightening the noose around their collective neck the more they squirmed within it. If there was an answer at all, it certainly wasn't going to be found today while shooting the breeze on a roof. Willow admitted a defeat in this battle, but he was not yet through with the war.

"Mister Klaus, I cannot offer any ideas that will help our situation at this time," he finally said, much more directly, wrapping up his lazy regard for the evening calm. "However I do not believe that nothing can be done. I think that, perhaps, with further study and more careful thought organization, we may find one yet. Because we're not in Bielefeld anymore, what previous responsibilities I had have been put on hold; I am willing to put the effort into investigating the various factors at hand and experimenting with theories about how to move forward in this issue, if you are at all obliged to consider this a serious contribution."

At the moment, it was the only thing he could offer. The pony wasn't willing to tuck his head under the covers, pretend he never heard any of this, and pray someone else solve the issue. It was a very small start, but a small start was better than being aimless. Somepony had to do something.

--

"Insidious is one of the people in there," Giovenith said with concern, pressing her hands tightly together. She was worried, but at least Insidious was the durable type, as was whoever Chaos person was in there with her.

How did the elevator break anyway? Residents were capable of causing at least temporary damage to the Building, but as far as she assumed, it didn't seem natural for their thoroughly enchanted home to just break on it's own. What, had they been jumping around in there and caused it to fall?

"I've got medic supplies just in case," she reassured to everyone and no one in particular.

[Monfrox]

As Sandy was quick to get contact with those stuck in the elevator, Brit continued working the doors. Or...at least try. She grunted, heavily, and used her entire body frame to try to shift it even one inch.

"SUUUUUUUKKKKAAAAAAAA!!!!!" She growled out as she kept up with her entrenching tool.

And suddenly, the E-tool lost it's grip and she flew forward onto the floor. She rolled over and panted, still trying in vain to get the doors open. She cursed the inanimate object and yet she was too weak to really force open warped doors. Maybe if they'd been still intact, she might work with that but this wasn't going anywhere with her lack of strength. Still, she didn't want to give up, so she didn't. Afterall, there were still people in there.

---

Mon looked to her other two compatriots and as she listened in. This was all well and fine, but what of the villagers? Surely they would expect to be protected by them. And if not, after this, it would be a bit rude to just up and ignore them.

"Maybe we should send some people on a mission to the village? Set up an outpost of sorts. Mingle in with the locals. See what we can learn about them and this new world we've been thrust into. It'll give us a lot of know-how on what's going around in our immediate area and how things are done. If we run that alongside this city visit, the info we can acquire will be tremendously helpful."

Elsewhere, Kelly flipped a note with the title "Volker" onto the front desk. A small note telling him she'd love to talk with him again soon over a cup of joe and some biscuits. She then headed out to check her apartment and her gear.

[Cerillium]

ELEVATOR CAR

Marcus' heavy thud echoed through the elevator car as he dropped beside Drova. "Parachute, yup," he wiped his brown before squatting down to feel for the hatch. The meager light offered little but both teens were able to carefully work their fingertips around the grimy surface until Drova's slipped across thin hinges and a hasp.

Neither wasted time in prying the hatch open. It squealed on the hinges, and Marcus leaned forward to press the interior panel down. He cringed as it toppled and smacked Deuce's head, then winced as a bright crack of light and more dust exploded from the tiny crack caused by Sandy and Brit's good efforts.

"Just the two of us," Deuce called out, as much for the boys' benefit as well as Sandy's. "You won't get us through the doors. Yet. But Insidious can go up the hatch."

His lips quivered into a smile that quickly warmed his face. Deuce winked at his lovely companion. "I'll lift you up. I'll stay with the cabinet, don't worry."

Marcus eyed Drova. Sure, they could muscle her the rest of the way. She looked pretty athletic, too. "If you fly back to the top, I can let her scramble up my shoulders, and you can reach in and haul her out?" It was a loose plan, but it was better than nothing. "I don't think she'll hurt us or anything. My stepmom says she's pretty chill."



LOBBY

"We'll have to burn the doors!" the manager's snarl sent the parakeets alight again. "This is what you get for being too fat! You in there! Do you hear me! You. Are. Too. Fat."

His hand dismissively waved at the mismatched pair. "Bah. Somebody go get a priest with a welding torch."

He rounded on Sandy, his cherry red cupid's bow pursed over a retracted lower lip. "Well, look at you, Mr. Bela, presuming to know more about my job than I do. Shame on you. I give you an entire fifth floor, and now you want the lobby? Tell you what. Go talk to him" - a spidery hand extended its bony index finger to point squarely at Septimus - "Mr. Teleporter. Don't tell me my business. Tell him to get to work on his."


"I- I don't know. Is she hurt?" For the second time that afternoon, the cat had touched Myra's mind. She stupidly blinked at him. Cat's didn't talk, yet this one's collar seemed to do just fine as a mouthpiece. The telepathy was weird though. Nice. But highly unusual. The teen's head swiveled to take in the lizard woman's appearance, but Neste's own face had turned towards the newcomer, Cat.

The man's pupils were wide as if deprived of all light. Neste assumed that he, like the thade, preferred total darkness. She felt sorry for him. The Building offered comfort but the world outside its doors was exceptionally bright during the day. Cat was also a new arrival, and the wallflower construct couldn't help but allow her curiosity to grow.

"You there," the lizard's voice cracked as she called out to him. "Are you from the village, or are you a new Resident?"

*Receiving no reply, the lizard shrugged and thanked Myra before moving off to rejoin Septimus.


*[OOC: post amended to free up Neste]

Neste appears courtesy of my own whim.

[Primordial Luxa]

Burrows
“You know the usual” Primordial said casually as he looked about the small selection of open shops for one that one peak his interests in jewels, magic or books. “I seem like use apartment dwellers can never go long before some drone armada attacks us or a political movement latches onto us as a figure head. I feel safe in expecting that something similar is bound to happen especially in a place such as this. So I would like to be a friendly face around her before that happens. Give the beggars gold, buy things for more than their worth, heal some injuries that sort of thing so when one of our experiments goes awry or we cause inadvertently collateral damage people won't immediately grab their pitchforks.”

Upon noting the slightly malignant and less comforting hovel that appeared to be the town's bookstore Primordial expressed a slight but distinct look of joy that looked like a man be smitten with a beautiful women and began gliding towards the placed eagerly. “Do you read often?” He asked Amanda as he entered.

Elevator
Insidious looked up at the roof after noticing the frightful state that the door was in. “We should get out of here quickly before something collapses or this situation get worse. Perhaps we can climb up on top of the box? Their might be something in the cabinet that could help us climb up to one of the upper doors which might let us out.”

[Fvaarniimar]

The girl's eyes were very wide.  "I - it failed?"  Their devices could fail, they weren't perfect - but on the other hand - they could fail?  She rode that elevator.  (Well, she had.)  I JUST RODE THAT RED THING...rode the one next to it.  What had caused it?  Would it happen again?  Would any parties be compensated?

Shocked, Rmwtyliin just listened.  Outpost?  City visit?  Truly, that sounded interesting.  She had done alright on the Gliese visit.  She was a diplomat, representative of Fvaarniimar; it was certainly time for her to live up to that.  Right?  Even without Corps protection, it seemed a little childish to stay shut in when in a new country.  She'd been in the Building for...Wow.  How time had flown!  I still need to figure out their calendar.  Am I perhaps two-fives and three-ones now?

However, she lacked context.  The city visit might be an outing for only one family, or it might be...well, this might not be something she could join, or something she would want to.  Her brow furrowed and lips pursed in thought.  "You will visit a city?  May I inquire as to the purpose of this visit? 

---

No help from Myra.  Bleep.  "...Who do we appreciate?"  He sounded unsure as to who they appreciated.  "Nine.  Ten.  Eleven.  Twelve.  Uh... You're doing well?  Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen -"  Een.  Meen.  Eeny meeny irrelevant.  "Open the door which is mean..." Nick concluded that his cheering didn't seem to be helping much.  Furthermore, it was getting pretty embarrassing.  And what would happen around fifty or so?  He grimaced, tail lashing.  I'm quitting before I humiliate myself!  They weren't even working on the doors anymore -

They'd be burning through them?  But - I thought they were metal!  Metals melted and there were sparks from them on TV sometimes.  Sparks meant fire, right?  He'd always thought it was just the heat - but could metals actually burn?  I want to see this. He noticed that he felt eager, interested - a little unusually so.

He'd snuggled up to Myra's feet in the meantime; it was easy to answer the question. <I think so. I'm not totally sure but she acted hurt earlier. I tried to offer to numb it but apparently touching her is a really bad idea...> Confusion, then interest as he listened to Neste's conversation - bits of which might echo over to Myra.  Oh - a new resident, possibly!  Meowing happily, he focused, not feeling like moving out of the cozy spot. "Hi!

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Building

"Just the two of us," Deuce called out, as much for the boys' benefit as well as Sandy's. "You won't get us through the doors. Yet. But Insidious can go up the hatch."

"Excellent! I'm glad you both are OK," Sandy said in answer. He turned away from the gap, then slumped against one of the elevator's outer doors. There was no crisis, no need to try to get medical care for people trapped in an elevator.

He looked down at Brit, sprawled on the floor. "Brit, it's all right. They're fine in there, and there are people better suited for getting them out than we are. Take a break or go back to inventorying, but don't exhaust yourself on the doors. They're stuck tight, and even if could move them, prying tools will just get us another inch or two before they lose their purchase."

He rounded on Sandy, his cherry red cupid's bow pursed over a retracted lower lip. "Well, look at you, Mr. Bela, presuming to know more about my job than I do. Shame on you. I give you an entire fifth floor, and now you want the lobby? Tell you what. Go talk to him" - a spidery hand extended its bony index finger to point squarely at Septimus - "Mr. Teleporter. Don't tell me my business. Tell him to get to work on his."

Sandy was in no mood to argue; another crisis wasn't on his agenda for the day. His eyes flicked to Itum as the Manager mentioned teleportation. A technological approach? That could be interesting. Sandy nodded weakly at the Manager. "OK, we'll use teleportation."

Then, to Itum: "A teleporter? You're working on a teleporter? What are you planning?"

Burrows

“I seem like use apartment dwellers can never go long before some drone armada attacks us or a political movement latches onto us as a figure head. I feel safe in expecting that something similar is bound to happen especially in a place such as this. So I would like to be a friendly face around her before that happens. Give the beggars gold, buy things for more than their worth, heal some injuries that sort of thing so when one of our experiments goes awry or we cause inadvertently collateral damage people won't immediately grab their pitchforks.”

No, he's not going to lead us into another disaster. Maybe sarcasm would get through to him? "Ah, I see: a little high-handed condescension to cover for our uncaring incompetence and sense of superiority. Because that worked so well in Bielefeld. How 'bout let's not? How about we treat the Burrows-dwellers as equals and don't assume we can buy or talk our way out of our own foolishness?" Amanda changed her appraisal of Primordial and her mental to-do list about him: he was too drug-addled to have the slightest clue how people would react to him, and it would be necessary to have Sandy and the other supers keep a close eye on him before he did something irretrievably stupid.

Upon noting the slightly malignant and less comforting hovel that appeared to be the town's bookstore Primordial expressed a slight but distinct look of joy that looked like a man be smitten with a beautiful women and began gliding towards the placed eagerly. “Do you read often?” He asked Amanda as he entered.

Normally, that would have been Amanda's cue to ditch such a boor, but now... it would be better if she didn't allow the junkie to antagonize all the shopkeepers they'd have to deal with. Instead, she answered in a matter of fact tone and a neutral expression. "All but constantly, everything from the news to the law." She didn't care for the shop's appearance, and hovered inside near the entrance, cautiously looking over the books on offer.

[Cerillium]

OLD SAM

The wizard's eyes danced with mischief. What possessed the biggest threat to body, mind, and soul in these parts? What indeed! The casual reader's mind might conjure up images of fierce dragons and hellish demon spawn. Oh, the Dreadful Things that loom in the dusty, dark corners only to slither from under beds or out of closets in the sobriety hours of morning, long before the sun has made up her mind to rise, to snatch small children or plague infants in their cradles. Spiders, germs, snakes and other phobias twisting themselves into a more odious form to set the flesh to crawling. So many horrendous things walked or lurched or flew on Gallimaufry Mundi's verdant surface. But none -- not a single one of these things -- was more deadly than-

"The sheep," Old Sam finished simply.

His hands folded over his belly as he fixed the pair with devilish eye. "You need to get them when they're lambs, you see. The wild adults are, understandably, Not Tame. Nasty woolen nightmares with big, sharp, pointy teeth that rend flesh and crunch bone. They're only docile when their wool's off, see, because they're too embarrassed to lift their heads and put up a fight."

It was impossible to tell if he was pulling their legs, so silly was his duck face expression. "Ten to go upon the fields so green, nine to catch them along the stream, eight to creep through hoary wood, seven to rope them into brood, but the six go forth into the dawn, faces long and faces drawn, to keep the nasty adults at bay, to distract them all and lead them away. The villagers will provide the ten, and nine and eight, and the seven. You must provide the six. It's as simple as that. No more. No less. The villagers will know what to do."

His heels struck the floor and the stool scampered away. "Right, Neighbors, I have deer to feed." By this, he meant he was done receiving guests.



THE BURROWS

The book shop was as still as a coffin in a crypt. To enter was to feel the need to hush.This was the shopkeeper's magic at work. A body couldn't enjoy his reading when surrounded by distracting noise.

Bright light radiated from glass globes suspended by silvery chains. Shelves stretched from ceiling to floor, rising up ten feet or more, and these were packed with books. More rested on tables, or on the seats of chairs, or were stacked man-high on the floor. The topics widely ranged. Entire stacks seemed dedicated to cooking or animal husbandry, while others contained the history and literature of cultures spanning the universe. Magic tomes lined an entire wall, concerning themselves with everything from wart removal to curses. The "Book Dealer of Ominous Foreboding", otherwise known as MacDoma's Books, dealt predominantly to the Freywold, although its owner conducted much of her exotic trade in Ascalon itself.

MacDoma herself sat on a high stool behind a long counter. The Bean Nighe eyed Primordial as he entered, and Amanda from where she stood at the door, the creature's solitary nostril flaring to take in their scents. Thin lips pulled into a grin marred by a large tooth protruding on one side. She drew a green shawl closer to her weedy body.

"How may I be of service, dears?" the kindly voice coming from the creature contrasted with her hideous form.



OF PONIES AND GODS

"It's an interesting idea," Klaus's fingers hitched a trouser leg, and then he crossed ankle over knee. "These young gods and godlings don't have any set theology to them, one would think? Fresh gods, updated system."

Yet he had made another fine point. Beliefs waxed and waned, at times discarded entirely as something new came along. The older gods might grow resentful of the younger. Look at how badly things went when Christianity began to spread. And, in the far future of mankind, Christianity would fall away to zeal for an emperor, and the gods apart from him were damned as evil and a menace. Correction, Klaus sighed to himself, in one version of mankind's far future. Nothing was set in stone. Timelines branched. The avatar had a sneaky suspicion that they branched more often than they should.

His graced the Pony with a sad smile. No, answers wouldn't come easily. There wasn't any simple solution, although the Pony's willingness to tackle so grand a problem touched him deeply. "Alright, if you wouldn't mind setting your mind to the task. You're in a much better position than any god would be. You are apart from all the politicking and jockeying for power. I think your insight is far more keen than any of theirs. I'll help you any way that I can, but my own opinions might taint your research, so we'll need to keep that in mind."




ELEVATOR

"I won't fit through the hatch," Deuce lifted his eyes to find Marcus and Drova's faces cluttering the view of the shaft. "But I can lift you up." This was true enough. The Astartes' head nearly brushed the overhead lights' covers.

He paused to consider the Building's magic. Perhaps Insidious' perception of the car was different than his? Surely the woman didn't see the Building's interior as that of a dark ship? "How high is the ceiling in your vision? It's different for everyone, isn't it? I'm no wizard, but maybe you could close your eyes and your vision would blur into mine? Then things are easy."

[The BranRiech]

"That seems reasonable, but how will I get you back up?" Drova asked questioningly. He knew that it wouldn't be too hard to lift someone out with Marcus' help, but getting the boy himself out would be another venture, considering there was no one else that could prop him up. "Unless you have some sort of uh . . . Gadget, to get you out?" He swiveled his head to the side. Arching his back, Drova looked back up the elevator shaft.

"I'll come back down if you need, but just hand her up, and I'll try and grab her."

With that, the boy took flight, leaving feelings of animosity and anger behind. He still wanted an apology for Marcus starting the fight, but figured that them working together like this was something of an apology in itself.

He was back up to the pried-open elevator doors in a few seconds, a feather or two fluttering back down onto Marcus from the flight.

"Ready!" His voice reverberated down the shaft, to Marcus.

[Highfort]

Septimus' mood sank as he observed Sandy and Brit pulling at the door with shovel and crowbar alike, to almost no effect. He perked up as voices from inside answered, however, assuring everyone that they were okay and that no immediate medical crisis was imminent. Breathing a sigh of relief, the cyborg let himself close his eyes for a moment to catch his breath and relax. Soon, very soon, he'd be able to get some sleep and ruminate on these things, hopefully curled up with Neste. That would be nice, yes.

His eyelids snapped open when he heard Sandy addressing him, and the Representative cleared his throat before responding, "Teleportation, indeed. I worked on some prototypes in the Confederation although it never fully caught on because warp travel took less energy, though teleportation is safer and instantaneous. My cat, Sentia, is proof that teleportation does work on living beings."

He, of course, left out the part where Sentia was undead. That was totally unrelated to teleportation... as far as he knew. The cat had lived a full life of nineteen years and now she was living a full... second life, so to speak - and without all the hassle of cybernetic enhancement, to boot! Animals seemingly didn't take to cybernetics as well as people did, though limited prosthesis and automated cybernetic limbs which mirrored the movements of other limbs didn't seem to be an issue for them. Perhaps it was the limited brain capacity that made conscious augmented limb control difficult.

Realizing that he'd been leaving the sorcerer with silence, Septimus apologized with a tired smile before continuing, "Sorry, tired... Long day, you know? Anyways, it wasn't my current project but I figure with the Building in significant danger it would be worth pursuing. With a strong, constant supply of power and access to electronics, I can probably get something similar to the lab prototype up and running to ferry people between the lobby, roof, and fifth floor so we'll always have convenient access to the clinic."

He paused, thinking back to a suggestion Cato had made for dynamic extraction. The poor bastard had always taken quite an interest in applying prototypes to the battlefield and teleportation was no different. Dynamic entry had posed significant challenges - especially as teleporters for equipment and vehicles had to be scaled-up and took more power - but for personnel extraction the idea had some merit...

"Once we get the prototypes up and running," he rubbed his chin unconsciously, beginning to pace even as the elevator rescue effort continued, "I could attempt to miniaturize them. The tech-priests in the Building should be able to help me with the project. If we can package the teleporter into some sort of device that we could attach to people, then we could immediately extract them from whatever situation they were in and bring them right back to the hospital with minimal risk of injury. Hell, we could even make it into a projectile that can be shot onto people, so long-range extraction would be possible."

Yet another delay on the Lazarus Project. Inwardly, he sighed, though Septimus carefully concealed his disappointment. The Building and the safety of its Residents came first, especially since if they all died he certainly wouldn't have the resources or manpower to finish Lazarus.

And if they all died, Neste might end up pushing up daisies with them...

[Fvaarniimar]

"To keep the nasty adults at bay, to distract them all and lead them away..."

That...sounded like quite the task.  Kwa'a expected she would be a good person for the job - how could they be worse than the Fiends? - and had opened her mouth to volunteer herself before pausing.  From the description, the job could easily be deadly.  That wasn't a concern, but the possibility of being seriously incapacitated - or sent home - was.  She really didn't want to go home.  Apart from that, there was Rmwtyliin.  The child probably would get along fine on her own, but children didn't deserve to have to do so, and she was kin - although, granted, a relation so distant that Bomic custom would not have taken it into account.  She would need to make arrangements - no, talk to Rmwtyliin and then make arrangements. 

As the bridge came into sight, Kwa'a heard something rustling.  Most would have assumed it to be a bird or small animal; the personification hadn't had the luxury of making assumptions in years, and wasn't familiar with the area.  Reflexively, she loaded a stone - pivoted -

Something popped, loudly enough that Aegis would hear it if nearby.  Kwa'a didn't even have time to wonder what had happened before the pain hit, burning, making her gasp.  Hopefully she could hobble home anyway.  She tried to stand, found that her knee wasn't straightening, braced her foot against the ground - and gasped again in pain.  She looked down. Her lower leg was too far forward.  Oh no, not this.  Knee.  Popping sound.  Too far forward. At least she was among friends, here.  She hoped.

"Aegis?   Help I'm...going need...to get home."  He could probably carry the 133-lb woman, which would be extremely helpful, but she would be happy with getting to use him as a cane.  She was luckier than most with that injury.  Her leg would heal completely; it had before.  She could stand a week - &!#;!  She had used her powers to have everything realign properly and weave back together and not slide out of place when she moved.  Groan.  This time it would probably take months - and until then, she'd be limping around the Building.

[Primordial Luxa]

Burrows
“When I’m in the wrong I always live up to it” Primordial said with a slight sneer “But I wasn’t responsible for the Raptors trying to melt the ice cap, I didn’t kill those people and start a political backlash against metahumans, I didn’t bring an army of alien robots to Bielefeld. No, in fact I was the one who organized the defense that fought the drones off, I was the one who introduced death curing devices to save the residents, and i’m the one who lost his life twice trying to stop a god of insanity of my own pantheon killing all my friends.”

He was obviously flustered and insulted by Amanda’s assumptions and partially by his own pride so his tone was firm but he wasn't yelling or being overly derogatory and it was more mater of factually said than hostile. “You’re obviously not listening to what i’m saying if you think i’m being condescending. I’m talking about saving these people's livelihood, charity to the less well off and establishing a good reputation so out friends aren't treated like threats. If helping people find lost sheep and giving them the money I don’t need is condescending then fine but I’d rather be condescending than the target of people's fury when something bad happen through no fault of our own.”

“I may be uncaring, but incompetent is a word you would do well to never associate with me. I am trying to be generous, honest, and kind to these people while you seem intent on doing nothing but making judgements about things you don’t understand. The people in the apartment aren’t stupid either, they get into trouble but they mean well and I don’t want them to be persecuted just because they slip up or get targeted by something out of their control.” He said finally walking into the bookstore and make it very clear he didn’t want her company, Primordial was not well given to being insulted, even when he did take things the wrong way, and although he would most likely calm down and forget the incident later he did want to speak with Amanda further.

He had been a Luxan long enough to know how outsiders dealt with people who were strange and otherworldly. More than once his religion, science or ethnicity had been all it took to offend large amounts of people and get his friends killed through no real fault of his own. He was good at stopping his monsters from killing people and he did his strange rites away from prying eyes. But still he could empathize with the witches of Salem and other hunted oddities and he wasn't eager to have his new friends share that experience. If the burrow was fully human he would have considered introducing plagues, corruption and insanity at the first sign of trouble to prevent them from starting a witch hunt against himself and his friends. He hoped that the citizens of the burrow being strange creatures themselves who be more responsive to generosity and even may prove to be good neighbors unlike closed minded mortals. He knew some Luxan who had done this in the past with humans, winning trust with “moral” deed and good character and he decided to try and emulate such practises. He was doing good things, maybe for the wrong reasons but he didn't really care about that so long as the populace was happy the apartment would be safe and that was good enough for him.

So he entered the bookstore and immediately took a liking to the place which he let show on his face as he walked around for a few moments surveying the different piles of books before going up to the owner and saying “Greeting, I am looking on something regarding the history and geography of the surrounding area do you have anything like that here?”

Elevator
Insidious had been inspecting the cabinet for quite a while be eventually looked up at Deuce and nodded in agreement. “My vision of it isn’t so strange or negative that I couldn't easily be lifted up to place above.” she said gesturing casually to where Marcus and Drova were. When he mentioned his inability to get out through the top she frowned a slight amount and took a second to think. “Well thank you for helping me get out at least.”

What followed was a simple bit of acrobatics and strength work as Insidious worked with Deuce, Marcus and Drova in order to get to safety. She was impossibly light and Deuce could have easily thrown her to safety if he wished, yet her own surgically augmented strength allowed her to pull her own weight and it wasn’t long before she was standing back in one of the apartment hallways with Marcus and Drova trying to figure out how to efficiently get Deuce out of the shaft. She was also secretly plotting the best way to retrieve her cabinet all though that was mostly of secondary concern.

Woods
Aegis was deeply disappointed with Old Sam’s answer, ever the violent sadist he had hoped that Sam would tell them of something horribly monstrous whose bones he could turn into weapons. But instead he was told about sheep and was reminded of a movie that some had shown him once that had a very vicious rabbit in it. Truth be told the situation was very similar, with an old wizard (this time a Sam instead of a Tim) was warning him about a danger he would gladly scoff at. But he maintained his composure and gave a look of polite dismay as he was asked to leave but did so promptly.

Outside he thought about his options and decided to go back to the building and create a Fetch Stick or a divining rod form the trees surrounding the building in order to better locate these…sheep. He was very much loath to do so but Primordial had told him to focus on helping the villagers nearby for whatever reason he couldn’t guess.

However when tragedy suddenly befell Kwa’a he quickly reverted to a subconscious military mindset and drew his pistol scanning the surrounding trees eager to blast apart anything that looked threatening but when he noticed that her injuries appeared to be self-inflicted from a sudden turn he lowered himself down and go on her level. “It’s perfectly fine…that looks very bad I’m sorry to say. It’s not really my field of expertise if it was bullet wound or a chemical burn I could help but…let get you back I’m sure one of the dozen or so healers could help you.”

Aegis could easily care her with one hand but he holstered his weapon and scooper her up in a way that showed he was familiar with carrying eh wounded and after about half an hour of quick but gently walking he found himself ascending the hill with the apartment in sight as he did so he noticed some familiar people gathered around outside and paid them a quick glance interested in what people might be doing.

[Fvaarniimar]

"Thank you much." Kwa'a sighed in relief, closing her eyes and trying to sleep for that half hour. Her success was limited, with her leg often jolted just enough despite Aegis' best efforts and soon with tbe chatter between her companions. At least someone would be joining the expedition in her place. Kale. Kwa'a knew the girl would need support, but she couldn't focus enough at that point to deal with English. At least she would be able to do something to repair some of the damage; a chance Kwa'a had not had.

When the woman woke to find herself on the Building's porch, she asked, "Would you willing be me lift to apartment? 9C? Or elevator?" It wasn't that much farther, after all. A healer might be helpful, but her wound would heal on its own. They might not have the power to spare. Besides, it would reveal what she was... This wound normally didn't heal; the knee was unstable for life, except apparently with surgery. She shivered, whimpering as the knee was jolted again.

She would regenerate. Period. And if something had been replaced, that meant serious complications. She'd dealt with that when a hip implant had been tested on her - she'd had to enter a coma to expel it and mend the damage from doing so. "No healers."

"Please."

[The Carlisle]

Kale knelt down, examining a new flower she spotted in the open grass along the field. It had three large violet flower petals and a bright yellow stigma and anthers. The flower petals formed a triangle when tracing the tips of the petals to the other. The closest equivalent was Violets back in her homeworld. But she could tell it wasn't the same, it was a different species altogether.

Kale had long since examined the grasses around the area. Each variety was different than her world's equivalent. Different pattern of grown, different color, etc. Even when they looked similar the differences were ingrained in their DNA. She could read it with her magic, which she did for scant seconds, reading the very being of the plant and committing them to her memory. Already she could tell what contributed to her tragedy. Messing with the DNA of the plants without knowing their structure. One mistake, one loss of focus could lead to a different path of growth.

And these plants, all of them, differed than what she knew. It was both fascinating to discover and horrifying to realize what contributed to what she did. Already, she was thinking in hindsight, critiquing herself on what she should have done. Focused more, kept calm, examine the plants, or use her own. She knew none of this would change what happened, yet she did it anyway and wallowed in sorrow and revulsion.

Which is why she had taken to examining everything. Not only to make sure she knew the plants around here in case anything else that required her to use magic and to distract herself from her painful actions.

She looked at the flower more. It was certainly a lovely field flower. Such a bright violet, possibly to attract bees or other pollinating animals.

Crunch Crunch Could be heard, getting louder bit by bit as the seconds went on. She looked up from the wildflower, noticing two people walking down the gravel/dirt mixed path. Looking more, she recognized the two as residents of the building. The Mysterious masked fellow.... Angus? She recognized Kwa'a a bit more. Speaking of Kwa'a, she was being carried by Angus and her leg was.... twisted.

Kale froze in the field. Normally she would rush up to check, but at the same time, she didn't want to involve the two with herself even if its the most remote involvement. What didn't help was that she stuck out like a sore thumb as the grass was only a foot tall tall and she was just kneeling in it, her blue silken wrap and bright green hair clashing with the light-yellows and faded greens of the grassy field.

She hurriedly put on her necklace, disabling her magic in case something went wrong with herself. She looked as the two walked by, concern on her face as she looked at Kwa'a injury. Even though she wanted them to be safe from her, it wasn't as if a small connection should stop her from finding out if she was okay.

Kale got up from the grass and walked at a quick pace to the two residents. "Hello..." she said, looking to Angus and then Kwa'a, then down to Kwa'a's leg. "Are you okay?" she said.

---

Kale walked back with the two, concerned for Kwa'a's leg. Her knee was popped out, a nasty injury but nothing life threatening. Aegis (corrected from Angus earlier in the walk) easily carried the girl. While Kwa'a slept, Kale asked Aegis various questions. The injury, why they were walking out, the old man in the woods, the sheep, the mission. Each question led to another until Kale was informed on the whole affair. Her thoughts were on the sheep, who were apparently vicious creatures almost as bad as the Fiends. She looked to Kwa'a when thinking of it, partially thankful that her knee gave in before she was out rounding the sheep. She cringed at the thoughts that appeared.

A mission to gather sheep was good, but it sounded extremely dangerous. Running around to distract the adult sheep sounded terrifying, but remembering the Fiends put down some of the fear. They were animals, instinctively defending their young from kidnappers, whereas the fiends were something else entirely and seemingly born out of malice for life. But it was the livelihood of the people in the village, one which she helped destroyed. Thinking about it, it sounded like something she could do that will directly help the people she harmed. Even though she was the one to destroy it, helping them was her duty now and for the rest of her existence however long it is at this point. She would have to ask Aegis if she could come along as soon as possible.

She concluded her thoughts as they arrived at the building. More people were outside and she froze a bit at seeing them. No reaction to her, the killer in the midst. She felt tense yet at the same time relieved that she wasn't out yet, happy to have more time to help yet sad that she wasn't being punished for her crime. It was a mix of conflicting feelings that made her feel confused.

She looked to Kwa'a who was up and talking. She was happy the girl was fine, but a bit surprised that she didn't want a magical healing. It was odd, but maybe she was more conventional. Or maybe it was something else that magical healers couldn't do. Or she didn't want to busy the healers.

Regardless, Kale moved in closer to help. "I-I can help with carrying. You've been doing that for a while, surely I can help alleviate the weight a bit," Kale said to Aegis.

[Giovenith]

"I'm not much of an expert, and it will only be a small step, but it's better than nothing I figure," Willow assured, scrambling from the bend and spreading his wings. "But in times of crisis, everypony in the community must help to the best of their abilities--that's the Ponyville way."

Here, he backed up a few steps. "If I could just have a way to mail you somehow, I can be on my way and starting that. I might have things to say, but you seem like a busy man, I don't want to have to halt both our lives to go out of my way to set up a face-to-face meeting everytime."

[Northwest Slobovia]

The Building

Realizing that he'd been leaving the sorcerer with silence, Septimus apologized with a tired smile before continuing, "Sorry, tired... Long day, you know? Anyways, it wasn't my current project but I figure with the Building in significant danger it would be worth pursuing. With a strong, constant supply of power and access to electronics, I can probably get something similar to the lab prototype up and running to ferry people between the lobby, roof, and fifth floor so we'll always have convenient access to the clinic."

[...]

"Once we get the prototypes up and running," he rubbed his chin unconsciously, beginning to pace even as the elevator rescue effort continued, "I could attempt to miniaturize them. The tech-priests in the Building should be able to help me with the project. If we can package the teleporter into some sort of device that we could attach to people, then we could immediately extract them from whatever situation they were in and bring them right back to the hospital with minimal risk of injury. Hell, we could even make it into a projectile that can be shot onto people, so long-range extraction would be possible."

Sandy nodded in tired agreement with Itum's proposals, and returned his worn smile. "Yes, it's been a long day already. But there are more things that need to be done before we rest."

Sandy pushed off of the elevator door, trying to shake off his exhaustion. "When do you think you could have something working for the clinic? Something say..." Sandy stared up at ceiling, trying to think of the minimum they'd need. "Something no smaller than these elevators, providing one-way teleporation from down here to the fifth floor? How long would that take?"

Burrows

“I may be uncaring, but incompetent is a word you would do well to never associate with me. I am trying to be generous, honest, and kind to these people while you seem intent on doing nothing but making judgements about things you don’t understand. The people in the apartment aren’t stupid either, they get into trouble but they mean well and I don’t want them to be persecuted just because they slip up or get targeted by something out of their control.”

Oooh, Amanda knew the type. Yes, yes she did. Overly sensitive about their own competence, but clumsy, admittedly uninterested in 'cattle' -- or whatever perjorative they used for those without supernatural abilities -- and convinced of their own abilities to and necessity for making the situation right. And completely blind to their own flaws. A 'mote in your brother's eye' type, but with the power to cause more trouble than they prevent. The sort of person who would flash jewels in public places and discuss drug abuse with people they'd never met before, and then be surprised when people thought poorly of them.

But at least now he was talking something like sense, which was better than the last one. Maybe when he got over himself, he'd take care about his own bad habits and actually become somebody helpful. The real problem wasn't how to cover for the supers' mistakes and wrongdoing; the real problem was that the supers kept screwing up and needing to be covered for. If Primordial was slightly less touchy, that was the conversation they really needed to have, but as it was, Amanda felt that he was just another loose cannon the adults would have to keep an eye on.

"How may I be of service, dears?" the kindly voice coming from the creature contrasted with her hideous form.

Amanda answered nervously. "Just looking, thank you." The woman behind the counter wouldn't be too difficult to take in isolation, but the effect of the entire shop was unnerving. The subjects of the books that Amanda had noticed had a 'too good to be true' feel to them, and the store's unnatural silence was eerie. She looked around the store from where she stood for long enough for her to think polite, said thank you again, and left. The place had an off-kilter fairyland feel to it, and she half expected that when she turned around to look back at the store, she'd find nothing but a tumbledown ruin, that seven years had passed, or some similar Grimm fate.

Much as though she didn't think well of Primordial, she might as well make sure he got out in one piece.

[Cerillium]

LOBBY AND SECOND FLOOR HALL

Livid squawking proceeded the tech priest's arrival. The maintenance door opened to release a rainbow of parakeets. The robed and hooded priest swatted at them as he emerged into the lobby, a tank and torched hefted upon his back, and stared at the group clustered around the doors. The elevator's apparent state belied the full extent of the damages, and it was only once he'd knelt in front of the doors that he realized just how badly someone had fucked it up. Mumbled prayers mixed with soft curses as he examined the car's interior through the crack made by Brit and Sandy.

"This will take a day," he set the tank down as he addressed the Manager, "but I'll have the..." lardass ox "... marine out in ten minutes. Everyone go find something else to do. Leave me to my work."

He was true to his word despite the Manager hissing demands in his ear, and Deuce soon rejoined the others. The priest locked down the secondary lift for good measure. Both would be operational by the next morning, of course, and upgraded to accommodate oxen Astartes and giant alike. Marcus' free time had come to a grinding halt, however. The priest called him down.

"See you around, Drova," Marcus sighed and sheepishly ran fingers through his hair. He considered saying more to Drova, but what was there to say? They'd worked well as a team. Maybe the spoiled prince wasn't so bad after all? "Bye, Insidious."

He loped down the stairs to rejoin the others. Giovenith was there -- looking as radiant as always -- but his order frowned upon socializing when work was required. His lips planted a soft kiss upon her brow before murmuring quiet apologies for his horrid behavior (and insisting that he was an ass). The priest by the elevator wouldn't allow for more than that. A heavy sigh, a wincing shrug, and then he was gone to change out of his casual wear and to fetch equipment. Little did he know that his fate had shifted. No more would he lurk in oil soaked machine rooms: the priest had tasked him to serve Septimus on the teleportation project. The world of diplomacy and research would swallow him whole and forge him into the man that would, in the distance future, sit at the beautiful goddess' knee and delight her with music.

Or not. It was entirely possible that the Confederate Brother could also twist him into a sarcastic son of a bitch bent on world domination. Fate. It's fickle, no?

Neste had not received a reply from Cat, of course, and so she continued towards Septimus. Perhaps they might take time out for tea and to discuss whatever the hell it was that the Manager wanted from him.

"I suppose he's shy?" Myra knelt to scratch behind Nick's ear. "At least Drova and Marcus stopped trying to kill each other. That's good, right?"

The girl frowned at the thought of both boys still fighting, and the expression intensified as snippets of conversation poked from her memory. She wasn't entirely sure she could trust Drova. He sounded like a bully. Okay, a passive one that stood by while their bully friends picked on the weak. Who was this other prince, and was he still in the Building? Myra shuddered at the thought.

Volker kept a wary eye on the Manager as the latter made his departure. It wasn't a lie to state he was relieved that flamboyancy and birds had vanished. The Lobby quieted save the grunts from Deuce as he carried Insidious' cabinet towards Ogoti's clinic. The front desk cultist was just about to fetch a fresh cup of tea when the chandelier began to rattle.

"Oh for fuck's sake," he groused to himself. Was there never a dull moment? Just one. Just one fucking dull moment? Of course not! Never!

The former Nazi tugged his black woolen uniform jacket into place, neatened his tie, and stepped behind the desk just as the light bulb popped from its socket. A heavy form dripped from it and crashed to the lobby floor. Volker snorted.

"Welcome to the Building," his hand slapped the desk loudly enough to wake the android from the enchantment holding her.

She was uninjured, naturally, but she would have no recollection of how she came to be there. Data was missing. Her last memories were of whatever city (certainly not Bielefeld!) she had been in, or perhaps of flying towards that far away city -- we'll leave that up to her handler to determine, you see. Her eyes would open to fasten upon new surroundings that matched whatever she considered most idea. The air stank of stale coffee and ozone (from the tech priest's torch upon the elevator doors), and Residents' conversation filled the corners.

"I suspect you'll want to read over the lease and get your key?" Volker continued as if this was all perfectly ordinary (which, for everyone else, it was). He checked a paper slip on the desk's surface before continuing. "Macy, is it? You'll be in 6H, across the hall from the other android. That's nice, ja? Mr. Demens thinks of everything."

The clipboard rattled as he set it on the desk. The attached lease was standard.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Up you get! I'm very busy, ja?"







BURROWS

The fey creature's head bobbed to affirm Primordial's inquiry. "Aye, aye, we have that here. We have many things here, if you're looking for it and can afford the cost. What we don't have, we get."

A hazy eye winked closed as its twin looked the pair over once more. The shopkeep adjusted her shawl. "Amanda Bela, you'll need more than a sidearm if you're going to traipse around Ascalon. The truth is subjective, madam barrister, and the eye's chord still attaches to the brain. The brain is ruled by social norms. The truth is subjective indeed." A bony finger lifted to point at the stack closest to the woman, and her wilted lips shifted into a peaceful smile. "But take a cookbook with you. Complimentary. The one on the top will suffice."

Not one to leave things half finished, her eye trailed towards the man. "And you, Baron Primordial of Luxa, will find your gods when you least expect them. Take care that they do not find you before the proper time, for those would be false."



ROOF

Klaus' laugh startled some woodland doves pecking scraps near the Building's air conditioners. The hearty noise caught Rache off guard, and banished the gloom that had settled around the trio while they discussed grave matters. The daemon watched the disgruntled birds flap towards the sun. "Something amusing?"

The avatar wiped a tear. "Mail. Minerva will be pissed when she figures out the Fingerhut holiday catalog won't arrive."

The most trivial things would be the most missed, he supposed: Traffic sounds coming through open windows; children shouting to one another as they walked to school; the fog horn warding approaching ships away from the cliffs. These things. This wondrous, often overlooked security blankets that wrapped one up in reassurances. These, like the daily mail, were gone.

"I have a mailbox in the foyer vestibule," Klaus remarked as he pulled a button from his uniform jacket, "And I really don't think the post office will mind if it's used for unofficial matters now. We can rule out cellular service for the time being. That aside, you might need a way to reach me in a pinch, and you might not have a drain handy."

His tongue tucked into his mouth's corner as large fingers threaded some pocket string through the button's opening. What he passed to Willow was far different, though. The silvery bell and a matching chain glittered in the afternoon sunshine. "Ring it if you need me. I'll come, unless I'm chin deep in trouble."

Klaus uncrossed his legs and stretched. "Oh, that reminds me. Years ago, when things were most dire, I gave a little red box* to Giovenith. It contained a little wooden dracoling. Weensie thing, like so," Klaus stretched thumb and index finger apart several inches. "She might need him again. Let's hope she still has him."

He used a fist to conceal a yawn. Minerva should be revived by now, and Sophie and Nash expected him for a tea party. Life went on. Life always did, regardless of the turmoil embedded in it. "Anything else I can do for you, Willow?"