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

[Primordial Luxa]

Burrows
Primordial was delighted at first hearing that not only this place had the books he requested but the prospect of being able to get rarer books from other places was incredibly intriguing. He had lost several mysterious tomes in transit which he would need to replace post haste and he was sure that scraps of the Old Ones knowledge could filter into this dimension. He wouldn’t be surprised if Demens kept out the eldritch secrets of Magick and the Ancient Ones. Like many people learned in the occult Primordial found knowledge and plutonium to have many things in common, chief among them was how dangerous they were. But other things held true for both of them, even if you knew what you were doing and were well trained both were insanely deadly and if you did then well…

But Primordial tried not to think about that and filed it away in one of his lobes while reaching into his pockets. “I’m afraid I don’t have any actual currency just yet, but I have these” He said putting a pair of emeralds carved with the likeness of bloodshot eyes on the table “I know it’s a bit informal but if you like I can come back after a trip to the jeweler.”

However Primordials cheerful demeanor changed sudden at the mention of Luxan and the dreaded hints that his lady was making about his pantheon. The little color that existed in his surgery perfected face vanished and was replaced with a bland stare filled with that intense horror that came with a deep seated revelation. Had this creature been someone in a job he didn’t respect as much or who he imagined as less powerful he might have assaulted her then and there for hinting at such monstrous things. He would have tried to force her secrets from her throat or done something else rooted in the fear of what he had already experienced.

Instead he asked with a barely composed voiced “How prophetic...could…could you elaborate…on exactly what you mean?” Two of his brains lobed had just shut down one from stress the other from fear.

Clinic
Insidious followed behind Deuce as he helped her move her things and once they arrived in the nice area Ogoti had designated she took over from the Noise Marine and placed the black cabinet in the most optimal spot before making some modification. She checked the interior to make sure that the entire form was still function and while there was some conception strain on the flabby forms towards the back it all seemed very optimal so she merely reorganized a few items inside. After wards she took a look around the room while her skin turned to a lab coat white hue with red four pointed stars zipping around and looked for things in the room that might be better in the cabinet or place in the room where she could move thing too from the cabinet. She would spend much of the day on this leaving only later for a large meal and then to talk with the other healers when they assembled.

Lawn
Aegis brought Kwa’a over to where Kale was standing so the two of them could talk for a moment and when they were done he took Kwa’a to where ever she wanted to go.

[Fvaarniimar]

Kwa'a looked incredulously at the girl. How exactly - she wasn't the only one at the Building with powers. Her own included unusual strength at times. Best to reserve judgement, but it might be intelligent to remind the girl to know her limits - after all, her control was imperfect, and she was young... "Don't hurt you." It was basically grunted.

Whoever carried her, Kwa'a was soon upstairs and pulling woven and knit covers over herself. "Thank you." Later she would need to grab something to relieve the pain, but it had been a long day.

It was quieter, and the cool colors were restful. She was home - safe.

She just

wanted

to

sleep.

Now she could. Aegis, and Kale if still present, would find themselves watching a near-stranger snore.

---

Rmwtyliin started twirling a lock of hair around a finger - a habit her parents had decided would be better to encourage than throat clearings or whistling. The girl was not notable for her patience. It would be better for her to be thought slightly vapid rather than rude.

After ten minutes of this, she'd progressed to fixing her hair, then to fixing herself a snack. Surely she could ask again now? "I would greatly appreciate additional relevant information regarding the visit mentioned to the city." Her tone was noticeably cooler than it had been previously.

--

Hearing something about teleportation, the cat's brown ears perked up. Cool concept! Of course it was possible - but how? Down here to the fifth floor - the - the WHAT? No one had an apartment there. He hadn't been able to access it from the stairs.

Myra commented. Nick understood shy. He'd been in contact with shy. He could be shy. His tail still drooped. <Awwww.> He very much perked up, however, when the tech priest went to work, climbing a tall armchair for a better view; his mood further improved when the light spat out someone. Another new neighbor? Hadn't there been several others that day? How many more of them would there be? Why so many now? They weren't even where they usually were... Maybe they're in exchange for Torii?

...If so I'd have preferred her staying to them. Still, she wasn't here. New girl was, and deserved to be welcomed. "Hi." (It wasn't likely to be audible to Macy, given the large, (presumably still) crowded lobby, but was a nice sentiment at least.)

[Swith Witherward]

DINING ROOM

The oddest thing happened as Rmwtyliin sat twirling her hair. It started when Will walked in to open a window. The soft breeze swept napkins from the table and made people wobble.

Only they weren't people. Minerva's Lads (what remained of them) had dicked with Time and been up to Great Mischief.

With the loudest of clatters, Bran, Rylli, Monfrox, Varona, and Kelly toppled backward.

WOOSH! WHAP!

The cardboard cutouts struck the floor, spooking Will into jumping right out the window.

"Pay them no mind," came Fritz's voice as he stepped from the shadows, flanked by two Gestapo officers in woolen overcoats. The Secret State Police collected the cutouts, then carried them down the stairs and right out the front door where they were unceremoniously dumped on the scorched lawn.

FFFFFFFLAIR!!!!

A cultist's match sparked the pile to a violent blaze. The pile was reduced to ash in an instant.

Back in the dining room... Superbia and Romulus remained at the table with Rmwtyliin.



[And that is why you should never feed a mouse a cookie, or run more characters than you can humanly handle, or leave players hanging for days on end while you fuck around with other shit. TG Cer if you want your character back. Do NOT play these characters until then. They are not dead but they are also not accessible.]

[Germanic Templars]

Superbia could only get a quick glance at what unfolded in the Dining Room, only having enough time to raise his head and swivel it a few times to see the peculiar arrival and departure of the gestapo.

A passive-dismissive shrug was his only response to the event. "Well, that was, interesting. Kinda like the regular stuff you see in Hell but with less Nazis and more demons, but I am just being bias." He blatantly remarked as he pushed the chair to stand up.

[Giovenith]

At first worried Klaus was laughing at him for yet again being ignorant of some Earthen technology that made mail look obsolete, Willow was slightly surprised when he was given the lovely bell, but accepted it and resolved to only use it when most necessary.

"No, that's all I need," he answered, nodding. "I will tell her about the box, thank you for everything."

Carefully, he flew up to Rache as well, gently patting his (technically Hans') should gently with a hoof.

"And thank you for all your help today. I promise I'm going to find something that will actually help us all."

And with that, Willow took a shorter route back home, flying off the roof itself and searching for Giovenith's window. He found it, and after gently tapping on it three times, was opened up to and let in by three stray paper birds with a linger, lazy bit of magic. He crawled through, shut the window behind him, and started to dig through Giovenith's books.

--

Giovenith sighed at all the chaos that had occurred, and even more so at Marcus' partings and apologies. No, she wasn't leaving him, never. She didn't think that was possible for her. Perhaps they'd talk about it later, but admittedly, she couldn't imagine it would end with anything far from more apologies, forgiving and forgetting, and more kissing. How strange it was that by now she could already expect it.

As for Drova, she wasn't sure how to react at this point. The boys had both did a fine job of helping the elevator situation, but then, it wasn't like anyone had ever been accusing either of them of being complete and total monsters. It was great on them that they succeeded, but she wasn't sure it did much to help their current predicaments other than defusing the initial dramatics.

Knowing her friends might still be looking to her, she turned to all three. "Well, that was that I suppose. I don't know about any of you, but I don't think now is a good time for youthful giggling and such. This day has been long and stressful..." She rubbed her eyelids. "... I think we all need to settle down and unwind from all this. I'm not in the mood for much more excitement or panic."

[Fvaarniimar]

Rmwtyliin looked up from her bowl of oatmeal in shock as giant art pieces tumbled over and out the dining room window. I - weren't they talking? She would have sworn they were real! Was this someone's idea of a prank?! (Under different circumstances Emm would have been suspected.) A weird play put on to freak her out? She felt hurt, rather miffed, and rather foolish - she had thought them real. Maybe whoever had made those helpers earlier was responsible...she rather wanted to give them a piece of her mind, but sighed. She wasn't on their level, like Fvaarniimar wasn't as powerful as larger countries. Like her home, she needed to avoid offense.

There were two others still with her. I hope you are real. Could she sneak a peek at their backs discreetly?

--

Nick meowed in reply. He wouldn't mind a little excitement; a lot would be excessive. He did not, however -

"Where are we going? I mean -"

- feel like being alone.

[The Carlisle]

Kale was confused by the phrase Kwa'a blurted out. Don't hurt you. Was Kwa'a concerned that she was too heavy to carry? Kwa'a didn't look much heavier than Kale, but the girl didn't have the strength to carry her on her own. She could probably power through it, but from the looks of their path, it would definitely strain her. So Kwa'a was right in that regard. Of course, thinking about it more brought up another meaning, that she would use her powers to carry Kwa'a. It was pretty well known that she could control plants in anyway she sees fit and has done so before.

Don't hurt you

Kale's grin disappeared as she thought of the words in the context of her powers. Kwa'a was concerned about her using her powers. That no doubt means.... she knows what Kale did. Or at least assumed such. Thinking about it, if Kwa'a knew or assumed, then wouldn't the others? Kale's powers were well known, and the incident involved warping of plants. It would make sense to make such connections. But it had been hours since the tragedy, and nobody had confronted her on it, not even the injured. Heck, she didn't hear anything in the dining room linking the plants to her. But... now with Kwa'a... were people now making connections?

She looked away and breathed out slowly. Time was ticking, and she hasn't done anything to help the people she harmed. It felt dirty, hiding that she was a killer from people. But... she needed to do this in order to help them before.... whatever befalls her fate. It would be justice regardless, but it felt wrong to do nothing but.... also wrong to hide... Such conflicting thoughts waged battle in her mind.

She shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts for now. She needed to help Kwa'a up to her room. "Don't worry, I won't get hurt," she said, then saying in her mind Or anyone else.

---

Kale assisted Aegis a bit during the trip, alleviating some weight between the two. Arriving in Kwa'a's apartment, Kale couldn't help but let her eyes wander. Stone covering the walls, floors and ceiling, color in dull but earthy colors. It was certainly different from the apartments she had seen before. It seemed everyone had a different style. Though, the cold stone floor made her wish she was stepping on Toscha's heated floor. "That felt great," Kale thought, remembering the night over with Toscha. For once, her mind was not on the incident, but on happier thoughts. Kale smirked as reminisced.

With Kwa'a now in her bed, Kale looked at the girl for a bit. She looked so calm and restful, no doubt her room comforting her. The motifs and colors were interesting, though not to Kale's style exactly. She hoped the girl would heal quickly. No doubt the leg pained her with sleep allowing her to escape it for a while.

With that, Kale looked to Aegis, her grin going away as a feeling of nervousness returned. "Um.... Aegis... I...the sheep... I wanna..." Kale said, fumbling a bit with words before some determination came through and set her thoughts straight, "The mission with the sheep. I wanna help in it. Since Kwa'a can't go, I can take her spot."

[Zarkanians]

Cat's mind had been drifting. Not in the fun, time-melting way it sometimes did when you were very, very bored, but in the jarring, discordant way it did when you were very stressed and wanted, very much, to focus on the situation at hand. It wasn't so much that he couldn't tell what was going on, anymore--he still had a clear picture of the lobby, focused in his mind--but his mind wasn't really there. His mind was home, in his bed, and in Zarkanians, and in all the things he was Holding in his mind--years of experiences, all crowding for attention and eating up bandwidth. So he didn't remember that the lizard woman had asked him a question until she was already walking away. He wanted to follow her, but she was going somewhere else, not just away--and it was rude to interrupt purposeful action, especially after missing them. No. Not that, then. He was becoming increasingly distressed, and that manifested on his face like acne, twisting it with panic.

Words swam into his mind--they hadn't been words when he'd learned them, but that was how Lessons came to you, when you needed them. He needed to talk to someone. If he didn't talk to someone, he was separate. If he was separate, he was outside, and if he was outside, he was dead. Dying was not part of his purpose--not anymore.

A girl was watching him. She was kneeling with a small animal, which was, in turn, watching someone else. Hesitantly, he made his way over, his eyes snapping back into the moment. "Um. Hi. I'm sorry, but I'm very new, here;" he swept his hand around, attempting to indicate that he was referring to more than just the building. "What's going on?"

[Northwest Slobovia]

"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."

Amanda had been about to open the door, and she nervously turned around when the book seller spoke her name. She struggled to make sense of her words: what did Ascalon have to do with the truth? Maybe it would make sense when she was calmer, without so many strange things in so short a time.

She eyed the stack of cookbooks warily while she considered whether to take one. It seemed to be offered as a gift, and even in fairyland those were usually safe. Leaving it would be rude. Amanda thought about it more as Primordial asked his question; it was a good parry. She could try the same. It would be easy, even under the circumstances, but playing copy-cat didn't suit her.

Nor, however, did dithering. Well, old girl, you face three questions. Answer them. Stay or go? Stay. Take the book or leave it? She hesitated momentarily, then reached for the top cookbook. The shopkeeper did seem to be offering them advice, if in riddles. Amanda glanced at the book's title as she cradled it. Respond or remain silent? Respond.

"You know the city much better than I do. What would you recommend I take?" Amanda's tone was conversational, neither Primordial's current fearful cringing nor her own usual bold courtroom challenges. Straightforward and to the point. She hoped she'd get an answer to match.

[Chedastan]

So that's why they were so quiet, and unmoving lately.

The General thought as the cardboard cutouts were taken away by the odd officers. While he'll admit he was a little impressed by how life-like they appeared several minutes ago, enough to apparently fool him and anyone what remained at the table. But he cursed himself to have been fooled so easily by the mock-ups, surely he should had known better and caught on sooner. He was also disappointed too, as that last suspected she-wolf Lupii turned out to be one of the mock-ups, as it possibly meant to him at least that the Lupii were still all gone. Such a sad waste. He wondered how many more tricks this building has, assuming this was one, from what he seen already, that wouldn't be much of a surprise.

He realized now that girl had asked him something, but he hadn't caught that till now oddly. He thought of what could have caused such a weird trance over him, then he remembered the tea he drank.

Was there something in that tea? By Wilhelm I knew it tasted too good to be true!

And panicked thought came through him, making him jolt where he stood. He saw a stray teabag on the table, and quickly brushed it away from him. He felt the urge now to go outside and get some fresh, probably sooty, air. He needed to be a more calm state than usual if he was going to the city... Assuming that part wasn't an trick too, but he reasoned for now that it was possibly just the quiet ones that weren't really there. But that girl still asked him something right? He composed himself before he began to speak. And recalled her question from before.

"You were asking about the city now weren't you? Sorry miss if I was acting like a lumbering 7th Stock for a moment there, I think I may have ingested something weird earlier. Now assuming you're still with me, and not made of cardboard; we discussed in the meeting how we needed to go to the nearby city for supplies to fight the fiends due 10 days from now. I believe it's called Ascalon. But anyways we have another group that's going to help the ghetto with getting its sheep back, despite my suggestions not to, but whatever, there's that."

Romulus said to the girl who remained sitting at the table, hoping that cleared some stuff up for her. He eyed the strange looking thing that just stood up, whatever it was, it at least walked around and talked, so maybe that's real too probably. Though he wasn't so sure what it meant by "Not-Zee," perhaps it wants a game of Yahtzee? Whatever the case may be, he didn't think he had too much time for games. He paced around for a moment, wondering what to do next in the meantime. He did receive a room he could check out, and there was outside still to survey current defenses up close. He guess he'll just have to wait and see how well the girl was taking the information he was giving her.

[Stormwrath]

Lobby, Ground Floor

---

Macy could feel the floor pressed against her face. She lay there face down on the floor of the lobby, because of the weird circumstances of her entrance. All around her was a cream-colored room, with various decor that screamed baroque themes. Perhaps this was the new apartment that she was told about — if so, it was surprising how she arrived here so quickly, and in the most inconvenient way possible. Well, at least she found a place to stay, since she was going to study at a nearby university. Wait a second, she thought to herself, was this place a hotel? After all, it looks so luxurious even for an apartment building. While she was busy thinking too much about her surroundings, the receptionist pounded his desk to get her attention. "Welcome to the building," he spoke to the android with a German accent.

Puzzled, she got herself up from the floor and heard a piece of glass crack. Shit. She hoped that she wouldn't have to pay for that. Picking up her suitcase and dusting herself off, she took a long glance at the lobby. She could hear the distant conversations of other residents in the building, as well as detect the smell of coffee in the air. The receptionist must have been puzzled as well — after all, the desk is this way. "I suspect you'll want to read over the lease and get your key?" he continued as if people crashing into the lobby face down was a thing in this place.

As for the robot, it took her some time to adapt to her environs — since she was so disoriented and all. This must be the perks of being a human without an idea where he/she is or what is going on. Macy approached the desk and watched as the receptionist produced a paper slip and marked it with a pen. "Macy, is it?" he glanced at her. The android nodded in affirmation. "You'll be in 6H, across the hall from the other android. That's nice, ja? Mr. Demens thinks of everything?"

Just who was this mysterious, enigmatic figure named Mr. Demens? Was he the owner of this building or just the current head manage who had to put up with this unorthodox place? Does he ever come and visit? As she was contemplating these things, a clipboard was pushed in her direction, containing the attached lease. "Well," the receptionist growled, "what are you waiting for? Up you get! I'm very busy, ja?"

"Uh, wait," she began to ask. "Before that, where exactly am I? How did I get here? Also," she pointed at the double doors behind her, "do people use that entrance over there?"

[Germanic Templars]

The pale demon took account that there was only three people left in the room, him included. He tilted and turned the side of his head at the general, thoroughly examining his physical features. The beard was rather, manly. Then again the only way to be a true man was to wear armor and have a beard, or so an old saying he once heard centuries ago.

He quickly lost interest in the general and focused his field of view from where he stood on the dark hair girl. Something was off about her; maybe it was the weird symbol on her forehead, or possibly her extreme shortness. A magical dwarf or maybe a lawn gnome that was brought to life.. No, no funny pointy hats on her head. Superbia pondered as his head -snout and all- were facing towards her with a slight tilt of curiosity.

He wondered about her for a while before a bigger issue arises in his head. The glanced back the general, then back at the girl, then back at the general.... He did this routine at least seven times before coming to a conclusion - "Wait!" Superbia gave one more quick glance at the two again before asking the serious question, "Who the hell are you two?! And other than the cardboard crap on the floor and the random ass appearance of Nazis, what is happening?" Superbia gave on more quick thought on the recent events, other than Ogoti and bad news, everything was blurred out to him with self-loathing pity and a nap.

Lobby

Smith sat on the Thinking bench, the back of his head resting on the wall, enjoying any form of peace as he tried to understand and grasp a general concept on what was happening. Smith glared at the dog, Max. He was quite surprised that he would send the dog to protect him, at least it showed a little bit that Thriller cared for his safety to some degree.

Max sat quietly in his full set of armor with his rifle locked and tucked tight between his thighs, barrel pointing towards the ground and helmet perched on the butt stock of the rifle. Max's eyes darted around, taking in physical features of every person in the room, every niggling detail that caused him to be aware of his surroundings at all time. Every exit, stairwell, etc. Any point of entry or exit and every person in the room he kept a personal, temporary note on.

[Fvaarniimar]

"I am not a reed mat made of paper -" Romulus, still present, heard.

Chomping with considerably more force required to macerate oatmeal or cheese, Rmwtyliin returned to her snack.

Just like a guy.  Advocating violence with the weapons purchases.  Lacking utterly the compassion to help their...apparently, neighbors.  She really had started to think some males were deserving of respect - Ocho for instance.  But this one hadn't even bothered with telling her who would be worth asking!  And she really did need to know whether it would be alright for her to go as well.  Was the expedition merely for weapons? 

I have no wish -   Blue eyes widened.  She did want to see more than just the Building.  And was not fighting necessary at times?  Maybe I should.  Perhaps she even should get a weapon of her own.  Those wounds!  A tiny saucepan wouldn't do much against the Fiends, but perhaps a staff could balk them?  She did understand how they were used.  Not sharp enough...A spear?

She shivered, staring out the window.  Working with weapons was for Corps, and for other peoples!  This place had affected her.  But I should be able to defend myself.  Even in groups, this place was dangerous.  Violent deaths had happened - at that museum for instance.  Why me?  Why couldn't she have just stayed at home?

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize that Superbia had not in fact left, and hence she jumped a little as he started talking; her posture straightened from slumped to excellent in a second.  It might be little things like that which Superbia found off about Rmwtyliin.  It also could be her skin tone, as most skin (regardless of race) was reddish in hue.  Rmwtyliin's was a warm, soft yellow.

Still - skin was not supposed to be white.  Pushing out her lips, Rmwtyliin shrugged that off...but why is he tattooed with blood-color?  What if he murdered so many people that someone decided to warn everyone else off?  Her eyes widened in terror, lips pinching in.  What if he is Bom -  On the verge of hysterics, a brown face flashed in her mind.  Wrapping yarn.  A sharp needle...stitching garments.  Okay, that was silly.  Red clearly meant something different to her guardian.  Perhaps it did to this male as well. 

Recent events? Exasperated, she sighed. "How recent?" She might as well just start with that morning. "Some variety of large, fearsome beast attacked the Building this morning. I hear that they are larger than you and attacked in swarms. At sunrise..." Her lips pushed out again. "They were gone."

Her forehead creased for several moments. "The next event of note was the departure of Toh-ri and Kaht-yah, other Residents. Ah-ee think that they had some duty at -" Preemptively she squeezed her eyes shut. "Home?"

Apparently -" gulp. "The metal box which lifts us between floors failed a little later. Oh - I expect you heard that. There was discussion of a visit to a city, which sounds as though it is not very far from here. I know little else of it." Why not. "I wonder if you know who would be best to talk of it with. I wish to go."

[Cerillium]

BURROWS

The bean nigh's eyes danced over the emeralds but she, unlike Margaret, wasn't one to coddle. "Gems pacify elves and delight young women with their glitter. I'm not an elf, sir, nor am I a woman. The jeweler here crafts stones and precious metals to make pretty things for fair necks and fingers. If you want cash, you'll need to visit the city. We mostly accept coin here."

The weathered skin and wrinkled draping her brow rippled as she lifted them to regard the Gatejumper's reaction. There was an almost apologetic air to her words, "As for prophecy? I impart, not interpret. Food for thought."

Amanda's introspection wasn't lost on the fey creature. Three was always met with three even when things were left unspoken. "Pepper spray," she quipped through gnarled lips, "A sense of humor. And gold. Not the alchemized sort. The dwarven councils put a stop to that nonsense a century ago."


LOBBY

"Ah, that's a tough one to answer," Volker sighed, "as we've only just arrived here last night. Building and all! We were in Bielefeld when we went to bed last, and were awoken when we landed here. As for here? We suspect this is a pocket dimension of some sort, possibly fashioned by Demens himself. There's more to him than meets the eye."

The cultist normally didn't go into much detail, but the times had shifted and perhaps it would be best to explain? "The Building, you see, is an entity. It protects itself. It can keep the smallest microbe out, if it wants, although some Residents have also enchanted the doors as a safety measure. Everyone in the Building comes from somewhere else. Most walk through the front door, usually. Right now, they seem to be brought by Demens through other means. We don't know why."

He gestured towards the other people in the lobby. "We get all kinds here. Machine races and cyborgs, magic users and mythical beings, godlings and demons, and normal mortals. Each is unique. Each has a talent. Each becomes family here. In Biefield, we were facing serious resentment and opposition. In fact, we narrowly missed being placed in internment camps. If it wasn't for several rousing speeches, one of them made by our own candidate, I'm sure things would have gone south quickly. Maybe Demens moved us to avoid imprisonment down the line? Anything is possible with him."

The world outside the front doors was bleak, nothing but ash. "There was a fierce battle last night. A battle for our lives. We were attacked by Fiends, and we saved some local villagers. Now everyone here in the Building is trying to get their feet under them, and trying to figure out what to do about Fiends and locale alike. There's still food upstairs in the 2nd floor kitchen and dining room, and things like the pool still work fine. But everything else seems jumbled, like the two broken lifts behind you. Everyone is keyed up."

The cultist pointed out an anthro German shepherd dog sitting near a mechanical man. "That's Max. He hails from the Templar Empire. Soldier. He's primed and spoiling for some combat, maybe. Now look over there to that cluster of teenagers. The one with the glittery hair is Giovenith the godling of Pearlelei. The bland girl with her is Myra. And the black skinned one with feathery wings is Yuna. They might be a good source of answers, if you'd like to know more about daily life. As for what you can do and how you can fit in? If you enjoy combat, see Minerva or Klaus and they'll put you in touch with someone. If you're into helping others and easing pain, there's Sandy Bela. We're still sorting ourselves, you see. But we'll figure ourselves out soon."

He chuckled at the notion of them scrambling like headless chickens. Such was chaos. "What do you do, anyway?" he smiled at Macy.


Myra lifted her head upon the mention of her name. She'd been on the verge of following Giovenith to wherever the godling felt was comforter, but Volker's recap was spoken rather loudly, certainly loudly enough for Cat to hear it.

"That pretty much sums it up," she sighed. "Nick the cat, and Giovenith, and Yuna and I are sorta trying to sort things ourselves. It was total pandemonium a few hours ago, with severely injured people and frightened villagers packing this entire lobby, and screams of pain, and the Fiends..."

The girl gulp back her fears. "The Fiends were unstoppable. They kept coming and coming, big waves of them rolling over each other as they crashed across the meadows. And then the grass went wild, and our fighters were in it, some of them, and then the flames! The flames shot up and consumed everything, and that's why there's so much ash. Then dawn came, and the Fiends turned to ash from it, I think. And now, it's just - I'm- I need to rest. I need to step away from all this. Like, go read, or make some hot cocoa or anything, just to get my mind off all this shit."

Her hands patted down her pockets until she located the crumpling cigarette pack. Let the adults bitch, she didn't care. Myra propped a stick between her teeth, then pawed around pockets in search of a lighter.

"Ho, shit, what?" the cigarette between her lips sagged as she withdrew her hand from her pocket, then opened her palm to reveal a small, copper coin. It was beautiful, with a strange symbol adorning one side, and a wreath on the reverse. "This wasn't here last night," she passed the coin to Giovenith to inspect, then dug through the pocket to produce two more. "These were just pennies before."

[Zarkanians]

"... Huh." His hand lifted to the goggles hanging around his neck; he began to fidget with them, uncomfortably. Tertia had been a weird place. And he'd heard of many strange things Outside. This, however, was something immediate. He hadn't dealt with immediacy, before. It was sort of... Intoxicating? But not in a way that he enjoyed. His senses felt like they were clogged up with hot, greyish buzzing. So his features smoothed out. He tilted his head to one side. "What's 'hot cocoa?'" His eyes were following the coin.

[Cerillium]

DEATH FIELD

A solitary figure loped over the ash field where Scel had fallen, the sunlight reflected off his biohazard suit as his back legs and two sets of arms carefully steered his path around anything that looked suspiciously infected. Ocho had several scares already that afternoon, first with the scorched remains of a sheep (the ashen wool looked like fungus at first glance) and then with some snipes flushed by his approach. He would take no chances now.

[Chedastan]

Romulus stopped idling around when he heard the odd being suddenly shout "Wait!" It certainly caught his attention again, whatever it was still. He was going to answer its question relating to who the General was at least, and what he assumed it meant by what happened in the meeting. But the girl spoke up again, and explained to it what happened this morning in general. 2 hours ago ago, the General was finishing a campaign for Wilhelm XXIX, the Campaign Against the Prismite Menace they were thinking of calling it when the historians would arrive to commemorate the moment forever in the Wilhelm Imperium's history, the moment he wasn't there to be present in. Because of that damn Last Arch-Warlock, to think that was only 2 hours ago... It felt so long ago to Romulus already. This place was getting to his nerves already, slowly but surely getting worse. But for now he knew this was likely the best place for him to be at the moment. He just has to remain hopeful in getting back, hopefully not a lot of time would have gone by till then.

He turned his head to the odd being first, addressing its question of who he was. He sighed though, as he thought it made it clear enough who exactly he was to anyone nearby. Next chance he gets, he'll consider finding something to make that more apparent to everyone in the building, just to be rid of anymore confusion.

"To address your first question of who I am; I am General Romulus Aphrodisiac, of Wilhelm XXIX, of the Wilhelm Imperium." He introduced himself yet again, with a hint of tiredness in his voice in saying it again. He then turned to the girl.

"And for you, I believe there were a lot of presumably important people from this building that were present. Like Thaddeus, Representative Itum, for instance, and there accompanying parties. I'll be honest, I've only been here for about 2 hours, give or take." He wished he could have been more helpful, but he said someone at least.

[Giovenith]

Giovenith turned the coins in her fingers, running them along the edges and over the designs.

"I've never seen any kind of currency like this," she said, wonderingly. "It also seems of a more classic metal than our normal currency. Your pennies must have been transformed, or replaced... perhaps it is the currency of this land, Demens not wanting us to destitute?" She handed the coins back to Myra, since they were still her's. "Then I suppose he does intend us to stay for a while."

That would make sense. For all his puppet-mastery, Demens seemed intent on at least doing the basics to make sure everyone here actually survived.

[Germanic Templars]

"A general named Aphrodisiac." Superbia inhaled deeply, stifling the laughter that tried to escape, and it almost did as nothing more than a dry cough escape. While crude in humor, he was courteous enough to cover his mouth with his arm..

A change in subject was in order with the man before Superbia lost his composure. "So, you are a general? Honored to have you here... That would make you the second highest ranking human here. First being another emperor." Superbia rested his hands and arm on the sash around his waist, waiting for a response. However, his better judgement got the best of him as he realized that it was rude of him to not properly introduce himself to the man, and the little girl. Superbia exhaled, as a means to relieve a bit of built up tension, "The name is Tarquinius Superbia. Sixth duke of Hell, or Sextus Maior Superbia.. Why is my title name in Latin? Don't ask I did not create it, it was assigned to me."

Rmwtyliin told a lot of interesting information, but none came a surprise; none hit his ears(?) like the eight letter word that people too lazy or too busy with their funny gadets to take the stairs use. None caused the demon to be more attentive like the sound of the elevator, or in her description the metal box. "Wait a minute? We had an elevator in this building the entire time? Since when? How? I mean I lived here for a few years but never have I seen an elevator. Oh good it will make taking the stairs less of an annoyance."

[Primordial Luxa]

Building
After putting away Kwa’a, Aegis took a moment to regard Kale who had struck up a conversation with him. Like many others he had heard about how her clumsiness had endangered the lives of several of the apartment dwellers however as a military man used to working in well adjusted groups of fighters such as action seemed impossibly negligent to him. However he wasn’t angry at her rather he was coolly dismissive, he simply thought less of her now but he wasn’t going to hold a grudge merely think about her less positively. He supposed that depending on how you look at things that couple be worse or better.

“Yes...well” Aegis said struggling as well to find the right words “I suspect that their will be an opportunity very soon to go looking for them I would hang around downstairs someone is liable to organize a group to do so later in the day.”

Burrows
Primordial simply nodded and apologized to the fey saying that he would procure some gold or other metal when he had a chance and then return to make his purchases. He thanks the bookkeeper for his time and then in a slight daze began wandering back to Amanda who was standing near the door. He still had the look of detestable horror on his face but it seemed to waned slightly and his fear had replaced the anger that he had felt towards her a moment ago.

Around this time he looked up at the strange sky and noted “Its starting to get later Amanda. Perhaps we should head back the building, we can return to investigate the herbalist another date but I suddenly not sure that I want to be outside. I believe the friends have been showing up each night for sometime and I am worried that trend may continue.”

[Swith Witherward]

DINING ROOM
"Third highest, Superbia," Minerva's eyes sparkled mischievously. "And the Templar emperor is on par with a member of the Regent Board, which means he's equal to Itum, a fellow human. Enough dick waving, if you please. We're all equal castaways here, regardless of whether or not we hail from the Templar timeline or the Wilhelm Imperium."

Sunlight streamed through the dining room's windows, glinting off the myriad of buckles gracing her leather uniform as she made her way towards the pair. The Brit presented herself to Romulus to offer a firm handshake. "Minerva Blackwater, Commander of Slaanesh's Forces in this Theatre of Operations."

The redhead winked at him as she added, "Wherever it is we are now. My fullest apologies for not introducing myself sooner, General. It's been absolute pandemonium around here. Undoubtedly, you have questions and concerns, and deserve answers."

She inwardly sighed. Military men had it the worst, in her opinion. Stripped of their forces, left to find their niche in an unfamiliar place... it was a frustrating experience for even the most experienced soldier. He undoubtedly had trusted officers serving under him - indispensable advisers and compatriots that kept the machine well-oiled and running. But now? His comrades were far away and he, despite his strength and intelligence, might possibly feel the sting of a solitary survivor of some horrid battle. Her expression softened as she regarded the man and his armor. Life was never fair but any soldier worth his salt would rise to the challenges surrounding him. "Fancy a cup of tea?"

The woman's question hadn't escaped her. "Good afternoon, Rmwtyliin," she chimed as she pulled two cups from kitchen's pass-through counter and added tea and infusers to them. "I believe Itum might head off to the city. It seems like something he'd volunteer for. You could always approach him? I last heard him in the lobby, but he probably has his hands full at the moment."


LOBBY
Myra solemnly nodded. Giovenith's explanation made sense although the girl quietly wondered if there was a catch. If these were pennies, how much were they worth here? What could she buy with them, and how many more would be needed? Maybe there were more in her change jar upstairs? (There weren't. Demens had realized the need, but he wasn't as generous as Father Christmas!) She returned the coin to her pocket and tucked her unlit cigarette behind her ear.

Cat's question caught her off guard and her eyes shifted back to Giovenith. What's hot cocoa? The girl barely suppressed her giggle as she answered Cat's question. "Oh, hot coca is the best! It's made from chocolate and cream, or else powdery stuff, and it warms you up inside. You gotta try it."

He was disarming, this little fellow with his goggles and wide eyes. He seemed very nervous but also very nice. Yeah, nice was a good the word for him. He was easy to talk to.

"I'm Myra, by the way. This is Nick," she stooped and stroked the soft fur along his back. "He can talk. And this is Giovenith. And Yuna."


Neste reached Septimus and stood quietly by. Her ears took stock of the conversations around her, but her mind finally drifted to the apartment upstairs. Afternoon sunlight should have properly warmed the bed by now, and the allure of the grey coverings and soft pillows was almost too much to deny. Neste might have vanished right up the stairs had she a key.

Her fingers rummaged through the feathery stuff crowning her head, drawing out a loose strand - molting season! - and tucking it into her pocket. The construct tuned her attention to the people around her once more. Blah, blah, blah. By the Convocation, shut up already! How could Septimus endure this all day? Granted, he was trained as a diplomat, but she found herself wondering if the banquet had thoroughly annoyed him. Perhaps her polite questions hadn't. However, everyone seemed bent on strutting there, and now there seemed to be jockeying going on with the Residents here. Neste honestly didn't give a flying fuck about who emerged on top, provided it was Septimus.

Hazy Zalgofest memories sharpened their claws on her fatigued brain as she considered his prior position beside Brutus and Cato. Did all Brothers have a dark edge to them? Well, alright, she somewhat fancied learning more about Cato's apparent insanity, but Brutus was a right bastard. Her golden eyes shifted from elevator to the greying flecks peppering Septimus' head. Her lips curled into a smile as she conjured up a vision of him bopping the manager and Sandy on their noses, Brutus-style, for drawing him into yet another project. Alas, Titus would have to wait.

A single ear rocked towards the chandelier as Macy dropped from it. Oh look, fresh meat. A cursory scan revealed a manufactured mind, and Neste entertained herself for a few heartbeats by poking around the edges, just to see if the thing was psionic or organic (of course, it wasn't).

The Neste of old would never have dared to whine, nor would the unrestrained Overseeer now. Regardless, standing around and doing nothing had become tedious. Both ears swiveled towards the cyborg once more.

"I'm going to the lab to check on Titus," a brief image of the Übermensch and his vat flashed across their tether. "He's undoubtedly lonely without Scel there to prattle at him. Then I might take a nap. It's been a long day."


DEATH FIELD [Damn you, you clever bastard!]
Bacteria from Scel's intestinal track at been very busy, and the ooze expanding into an outward ring marked the spot where she had fallen. The bones, muscle and skin had succumbed to enzymes already, and the soil under it had warmed a few degrees. White mycelium, similar to that found in many Cordyceps, voraciously feasted upon the remains, and now sported deadly grey and blue ascocarp bulbs - each containing infectious, thread-like ascospores primed to cause mayhem to anything stupid enough to come in contact with them.

Not that physical contact was necessary to Nifid vengeance. The wind would suffice, in time, and provided the cycle went unchecked. It was a mark of Neste's mindset that she had overridden the protocols that would have disarmed the exo's process.

What would Septimus think? Typical humans would perhaps brand her a monster, misunderstanding her species in his haste to judge a natural process as malevolent in action.

The fungal field quivered at the heavy thade's approach. The asocarps retracted, slimy snail eyes darting away from an encroaching surface. The organism would slip into the soil's depths for a time, hiding itself away until the danger passed, before extending towards the sun once more.

[Northwest Slobovia]

Amanda's introspection wasn't lost on the fey creature. Three was always met with three even when things were left unspoken. "Pepper spray," she quipped through gnarled lips, "A sense of humor. And gold. Not the alchemized sort. The dwarven councils put a stop to that nonsense a century ago."

A slight smile came to Amanda's lips: that was a pleasant surprise! "Three recommendations! That's two more than I was expecting! I probably have pepper spray at home. A sense of humor?" Did she seem so humorless to the shopkeeper? Perhaps, it had been a long day already. But Amanda's smile blossomed as she thought about getting a sense of humor. "I'll try to borrow some of my husband's. Perhaps he can bottle it. Gold may be a problem for us, but we'll see what we can do about that."

After a beat listening to Primordial's comment, Amanda added, "Thank you for the advice, and for the cookbook." She took a last look around the shop. If her eyes didn't see its truth, perhaps Sandy's would. And if not, he'd he be better suited to judge whatever mysteries it left. She nodded to Primordial and then to the door. "Shall we?"

Outside, Amanda looked up at the sky. The sun was a bit low, but the Building wasn't that far away. "I think we can pay a brief visit to the herbalist. I'd like to see the quality of what's being offered, even if we don't have time to examine the full range of what's on offer. If you'd rather head back, I'll be fine by myself."

Primordial cast worried eyes towards the sky, but reluctantly nodded. They said nothing to each other as they walked down the Burrows' main street to the herbalist.

There, they studied the stock with care. Amanda found that she recognized more of it than she expected, and yet more appeared in the picture database on her phone. One omission furrowed her brow: not a branch nor even a needle of the desert scrub pine that yielded the Balm of Gilead. The store owner didn't recognize the picture either, a bad sign. But if the store dealt primarily with local suppliers, that wasn't surprising: the climate seemed too mild for desert plants to grow.

Primordial and Amanda headed back to the Building. Amanda eyed the prices on the gas pumps, and ducked into the Church of Demens to see if she could borrow a copy of Demens' holy book, or if there were any introductions to his religion prepared for other newly-arrived gatejumpers.

[OOC: Primordial appears courtesy of the Luxan Ministry of Unexpected Enlightenment]

[Chedastan]

Romulus raised a eyebrow to the odd response to his surname. Why did it covered his mouth? He wondered, was Aphrodisiac something odd to it? Because he'll politely let it know that it is the name of the Lord Governor's House in the Madeleine Heartlands, his birthplace, and the most esteemed House in the province worthy of Wilhelm's rule. Of course he didn't expect anyone here to have known that, or to try to offend him in any way of that. Perhaps Aphrodisiac means something different? At least from what he gathered from the odd being, but no one else seemed to react the same, so at least it probably meant something different to it? Either way, Romulus stopped thinking of that as the being addressed him, and addressed who he was, apparent a being of several titles, he thinks he'll just referred to him as Superbia, given how it was used twice. He wasn't what he meant by "Lat-Tin" though, but it sounded like it shared a couple things from Wilhelm Speech at least. He relaxed his brow.

"Pleasure to meet you, Duke Superbia."

"Third highest, Superbia,"

He turned his head to addressed the redhead woman that came to them. Giving a slight "hmm" when she said he was actually third instead of second, not that it he really cared enough for it to matter to him though, he was already only second highest ranked back at home, only before Wilhelm XXIX. Third wouldn't mean much anyway, and even then his rank probably has little worth anyway due to being very cut off from the rest of the Imperium, and as pointed out by the redhead, that looked to be the case. She presented him with a handshake he gladly took, and addressed herself as Minerva Blackwater. What an interesting name, he thought. She looked very capable of the title she told him of, someone whom he could probably trust, especially with that offer of tea, and a name that sounded wise. Though again he wasn't sure of what the hell a "Slann-Essh" was, perhaps she'll explain it? But he also bit his tongue out of reaction of the mention of tea though, paranoid of the one he drank not too long ago, and whatever the cardboard cutouts were a result of. Though maybe he'll only know if it happens again? He released his tongue and spoke to her.

"Tea would be lovely, Commander Minerva. And you're apologized for not coming to me sooner, it's been a mess for me too, probably more so actually, I was in a battle two hours ago; back at home I mean. But at least we're meeting each other now and can discuss matters. Now to start off simply, what's this Slann-Essh you're Commander of? Is is a province you stand for, a head of state?" He started asking her curiously as she got him and herself tea.

[Fvaarniimar]

Nick's scarf typically acted as a pocket for any spare change he could find.  Today/yesterday hadn't been different.  Curious as to whether his scrounged funds might have also changed, he slipped in a paw and fumbled around, carefully balanced on Myra's knee.  Eight unusual pennies and what he might later learn was a shilling tumbled out - a few staying in Myra's lap, most rolling onto the floor.  His claws extended slightly.  His butt wiggled to and fro.  His tail lashed - "Mrow!"

Nick pounced on the nearest, batting the currency from paw to paw - across the floor - Darkish gray, lightish gray... Pennies were supposed to be a red-orangey color - Ooh!   He wanted to see that.

Excitement.  Joy.  Nervousness.  Scooping his coins into a tiny pile, he returned to the girl.  <Hey, Myra, would you be willing to let me see through your eyes?  The colors of pennies are supposed to be pretty...It seems to work if you try to reply the same way I talk.  I'll hear you and info starts going both ways.>  Myra after all hadn't known him long.  Actually - <If you'd rather not that's okay -> she might not be comfortable with it.  He could ask one of the others... He hadn't talked much with Giovenith lately.

--

Kwa'a hadn't been quite asleep enough to block out the world; the conversation had incorporated itself into a half-dream where she had to spin straw into gold and couldn't leave before that was done.  Unsurprisingly she wasn't succeeding, although she had produced some lovely embroidery thread...But the sheep, she had to help get them or the village would starve...maybe they could weave the straw, it was silken...Kale offered to take her spot.  Kwa'a smiled in her sleep and returned to her insanely improbable task...

--

"I wish I could be more helpful...  Maybe the man was not quite so bad as Rmwtyliin had thought.  Superbia then commented.  A general named - actually, anyone at all named - her lips pinched together.  Avoid laughter.  Think of...something sad...

Home.  The Fvaarniimarn's face returned to a mostly-blank expression.  "My name is -"  Finding herself introduced by apparently the leader of the army of Slaanesh, Rmwtyliin wrinkled her forehead.  She barely recalled the woman - how had Minerva Blackwater - must remember this not only recognized her but pronounced her name correctly?  Her lips pushed out.  Probably abhuman.  Er, IiiBiii.

She shouldn't be rude.  Particularly not when introduced.  Particularly not when still concealing her full name and title for no real reason.  Clenching her teeth behind a smile, "Thank you, Madam Mmmihnnuurvah Bllllllahkkwahtter, Mihsstduur Rahmuuluuss Aphrrodiisiahc, Duchess Mm-ah-ii-oo-ur Sextuus Suuuperbiah."  It sounded rather awful compared to the smoothness with which the names had been spoken.  Although Rmwtyliin had learnt that often gestures were what mattered, she stil cringed a little inside.

Two people had suggested Representative Septimus Itum.  Now what was that English word again? She had just - "Mistduur Iittuuum is not too busy to discuss this?  I admit to surprise.  I shall try to find him once we finish here..."  Inhale.  "As Mihnuurvah told you ah-ee am Rmwtyliin..." It would be polite to give a full name. Her real one felt wrong to use. For the first time since arrival, Rmwtyliin recalled that the fact that Naaliiaszes took a new surname, typically upon marriage, applied to her. Starting a new house.   She could so do right now should she so choose. It would require some thought - more thought than she, not wanting to renounce her name, had ever previously given it... "Of Fvaarniimar." But it would mean a name she could honestly provide when questions were asked...

[Zarkanians]

Cat's eyes grew wider still as she described the composition of cocoa, and his face lit up. "Chocolate?!" He hadn't heard much about chcolate. There'd been a few mentions of it in early Colonial literature, especially in the context of things that the Colonists were going to miss after their departure from Gaia. But they'd never really described it, and by the time the library at Nihil had been constructed, it had passed out of their collective consciousness entirely. Which this woman wouldn't know, given her status as an outsider. "We thought it was gone," he apologized. That undid some of the work his efforts at compartmentalization had accomplished.

"Um... Hi." Nick and Gioveneth had such strange names. "My designa--I'm--um." He fiddled with his mind, trying to figure out which was appropriate. "I'm Catrian Arkay, Holder-Explorator." Sure; let's go with that. "It's a pleasure to meet you." It was. In the past several seconds, he'd learned two wonderful things, and she didn't seem as likely to execute him as the desk cultist had been. Was she his peer? She had seniority, either way--not that that always mattered--but it would be interesting to know. He watched the cat play with the coins, once again distracted by thoughts that weren't important, but felt like they were.