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

[The Carlisle]

Kale looked at the spider-like piece of technology with an odd curiosity. Kale was always fascinated by technology, growing up in a society that strives for and prides over its technology. The tech was animalian, something she rarely seen, but its capabilities fascinated her. Near constant communication was great, especially for a mission like this. Coordination was key, especially for her. She needed to know where everyone is in relation to herself and her magic. Plus, spinning webs of thought sounded cool.

She took the spider-like tech and fitted it behind her ear. She tapped it a bit, unsure on how it worked. Realizing she was falling behind, Kale ran up to the group and stayed in pace with them, standing beside Aegis to ask him something about the spiders. "So. how does it work really? Do we talk or think and it... communicates with the others?" Kale said to Aegis, "I haven't seen anything like it before. Just wanna know how I use it."

[Primordial Luxa]

DINING ROOM

Primordial thought about the problem of strange otherworldly frequencies and mused that they must be truly strange if they were interfering with his communication apertures which should have been able to adept. Truth be told it wasn't that their communications didnt work it was just that their range seemed weak and now that minerva brought up the idea of electromagnetic fields he considered that, such a phenomena could play some role. Perhaps the awakened wavelength ceremony they relied upon had trouble with the vast differences in dimensional properties of the different areas of the planet. Since the entire planet had a patchwork like structure it could be that their standard method of communication between the different zones wouldn't work. He decided that installing an amplifier, angler and attuner rod might prove to be the best idea but that was a task for a different day.

Instead he focused back in on Minerva having let his mind wander quite a bit “I’m sure they will but I detest being out of the loop or uninformed it makes me worry that I’m providing as much help as I could.”

When the focus of the conversation changed he asked “On a chicken coop? I’m afraid I know very little about such agriculture thing, unless it’s just a box, boxes I can make very well.”

SHEEP
Aegis gave a sympathetic look to Nick “Forgive me, I would have offered you one but unfortunately I don’t have one that could accommodate your size. I worry that it might have some unintended consequences.”

Later Aegis explained to Kale “Just think about a message, image or emotion you want the rest of us to see and then think about the bug and it will send it to all of us. It may take a little getting used to but shouldn’t be too unnatural.”

Aegis scowled under his mask but the emotion did register on the outside. “Damn” he thought when the minotaur explained the importance of keeping the creatures alive, he had sincerely hoped for a chance to engage in wanton sadism and violence. He considered for a moment using non fatal tactics but quickly remembered that his definition of nonfatal was probably no longer applicable to these sorts of situations. So he walked after the group heading towards the sheep with his gun slung over his shoulder in a much less threatening manner and a slightly sagging head.

[Swith Witherward]

OPERATION: BO PEEP

Lingering frost crunched under feet as the Heroes of Bielefeld followed the Burrow Dwellers down the winding path that lead towards the Edge of Freywold. Tended woods gave way to old growth forest. Fog tucked itself between the foreboding trees, obscuring them as casting them as nothing but ghosts looming in the grey mists. Strange animals cries warbled from the undergrowth, yet the voice's owners chose to remain shrouded. The occasional late-season squirrel crossed over the branches forming a canopy over the pathway. These creatures would occasionally pause to chitter dire warnings at the sapient beings passing below.

Nila's senses were alight in a wash of emotions cast by villagers, Residents, and wild animals alike. She took an immediate disliking to the place. "They call us fools, and tell us they'll be glad to see us dead."

"Hush," said the harpy riding atop the minotaur's horn. "Pay them no mind."

Nothing else was said as they trudged onward. The forest's hush eventually succumbed to the babbling of a brook close to the pathway. Those with the ability to taste, see or hear magic began to pick up traces of it amidst the trees. The patches occurred more frequently as they neared a fork in the road, and then the sensation became oppressive once they reached it.

"This is the very edge of the Fey realm," the minotaur mopped his brow with an old handkerchief. "Don't eat anything beyond this point, and don't gather herbs. The People tolerate our presence, provided we keep to the numbers allowed by them, but they are easily offended. You can't reason with them, nor barter with them, nor will they listen to any explanations. They'll strike, hard, and ask questions of your kin later."

The harpy's sudden flapping startled Nila. The tiny construct backed away, bumping into Aegis without so much as a pardon me! The grotesque bird settled onto a weathered stump, gnarled claws digging grooves into the wood as she surveyed the group with her beady eyes. Her voice croaked, slicing through the fog.

"Ten to go upon the fields so green..."

A cluster broke off from the mob, led by a stern faced man holding a torch alight. The fog swallowed them as they followed him down the left fork"

"Nine to catch them along the stream..."

A second group, this one lead by banshee.

"Eight to creep through hoary wood..."

A centaur lead the third away.

"Seven to rope them into brood..."

Only seven remained beside the Residents. The minotaur set his club against his broad shoulder. His bovine lips settled into a grim line. It was time. Holding his torch aloft, he lead the others down the left fork. The harpy blinked and turned her hideous head towards the Residents.

"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."

Her wings rustled. "Take the right fork. Hurry along, dears. Dawn is at our heels. You'll see the flock on a field of verdant green. This is the Garden of Shadows. But beware! The trees will shift behind you as you approach. The path will become lost. You must step into that field - all of you at once - just as dawn breaks, or the Wyld magic will keep you out and all of you outside will die. Keep your wits, my dears. Keep your sensibility, and your sanity. That which you see is not what is actually seen, and that which speaks rattles words with silvery tongue. Be brave, my dears. Be good to each other at all times."

She spread her great wings and took flight, passing low on the path to follow the last group down the left fork. The mists swallowed her.

The forest creaked and rustled, and Nila hiccuped as she looked behind them. The path was gone. The Residents were hedged in by a solid wall. The magic radiating from it was palpable to all now, barring the construct (for they lacked the experience of childhood and the eyes of the pure).

"Let's get this over with," Ocho growled and lowered his torso. He loped towards the right fork and veered onto its path, passing beyond their sight.



The Wyld loathed Kale. Its thoughts seemed to bend towards her, a cold and dark feeling that whispered between heavy, hoary trucks and rustled from the golden and red leaves crowing the canopies. The ferns leered as she passed. The woods were very much alive, and hissed taunts only her ears could detect: We know what you did. We know what you did. Where is your Garrus now? We know what you did to those people...


Wolves' eyes twinkled at Nick, and they licked their black lips as he passed - though, if he were to turn his head towards them, he would see only light reflecting off dew captured by the curl in the plant leaves or upon spiderweb strands. The wolves remained hidden deep among the bracken but the cat, with his keen senses, could taste their growing malice.


Haunting music tickled Sandy's ears as his gift opened his eyes. The solemn, soft wails of weeping women mixed with silvery bells - the synergy of the Fey. Gaelic words mingled with sighs, but soon the melody shifted to classical Greek.

Amid the rash herd of the wicked
Such were your prophetic visions and reflections
Hunched over the lyre, o Phemius Terpiades
And from the night of your pain you moulded songs
just as in pitch
There are some colors which gleam most brightly...

Aegis would find his mind dwelling upon the Hand of Glory. His experience with dark magic was extensive enough for him to realize this was a trick, and to wield it would be to invite death in, and the Wyld mocked him for it.


The thade was back in his element, and the trepidation was too real. He was once again numbered among the small, nothing but a rodent waddling down a game trail in search of insects for breakfast. The earth beneath his back feet and knuckles seemed overly yielding, almost as though he had wandered too close to the bogs on his homeworld. But that couldn't be possible. That planet was long gone.


But Nila heard nothing from the Wyld. Her companions emotions were all she needed, and she grew afraid as their thoughts broadcast into the gloom. She followed at Ocho's heels, then drew abreast of him once he stopped to allow the others to catch up.

Before them sat the Garden of Shadows, a large and vibrant field. Clouds meandered along the manicured grass - sheep in the dwindling mists. For some Residents, the field stretched into eternity. For others, it was no bigger than a few corn fields strung together. Ocho's nostrils twitched. Dawn would come soon, but they had a few moments to catch their breath.

"I hate this place," was all he said as he cast a mournful gaze at Sandy and then Aegis.

[Swith Witherward]

THE IMPORTANCE OF KNOWING A PONY

Rache appreciated the Pony's resolve. Klaus had done well to place trust in him. The feast wouldn't answer the most pressing questions but, at minimum, it would perhaps fulfill some basic needs. The daemon patted his host's pockets. "I have enough to feed the Men twice over. Most are trapped in the pipes and unable to attend. We should have plenty, Mr. Willow."

He rose, wincing as Hans' knees crackled, and carefully unplugged the toaster. The host would require more than a few pieces of toast but they had calmed the growling stomach. Asking Willow to cook breakfast on top of cooking a large feast would be discourteous. Besides, there were opportunities to nibble as they prepared.

"I know of someone that can cook meat. The marine. I will rouse him and take him to the kitchen down the hall. There were people there when I passed by earlier." His lips pursed as he recalled their faces. "Perhaps we will politely abduct them for our cause. Good day, Mr. Willow."

Rache let himself out, but poked his head through to door to add, "Thank you for your helpfulness," before latching the door behind him.



DINING ROOM

Minerva paused her conversation with Primordial to address Bran's question. "Axes, yes? You'll be better off with saws. The priests have plenty. Just tell them I insisted they share their toys. Oh, they'll bitch and moan, but they'll agree."

Cat's question seemed to have been overlooked, and so she smiled at him and replied, "Chickens are feathery birds that lay delicious eggs. We'll need hens, and perhaps a rooster, but we'll worry about that after the coop is completed."

She turned back to Primordial, but peered beyond him once she caught sight of Hans entering with a sleepy Astartes in tow. Deuce was out of his armor and cozily swaddled in one of his white robes. She lifted a quizzical eyebrow as the pair made a beeline for her.

"We're going to prepare a feast," Hans - no, it appeared Hans had checked out. Minerva could feel Rache's assertive control over his host's body. Her brow lifted higher as he continued, "A harvest banquet for us to reflect upon the good in our lives."

"A Thanksgiving?" her lips curled into a smile.

"Yes. We require cooks. Willow will be up and is in charge. I have brought Deuce to prepare meat."

The cultist leader snorted. She understood War's daemons even less than their cultist hosts. It was too early in the day to deal with any of their bullshittery. "Whatever floats your boat... Rache."

An exasperated sigh escaped her as the pair moved into the kitchen proper. "Alright, Primordial, now seems as good a time as any for our chat. Let the builders build and the cooks cook. Recreational room, or library? Take your pick."



LOBBY

"You are exactly where you are meant to be," Volker lowered his eyes to observe the newcomer, "And we know your name because you have been chosen to join the other Residents at this Building. As to who would choose you? Mr. Demens, of course. The landlord. You must have an ability or talent that he deems useful."

His hand swept towards the Building's front doors where the gloom of the pre-dawn hour hung. Thick fog prevented Asdra from seeing much beyond the front porch. "Do not ask where the Building is. We haven't figured that out yet. We were awoken yesterday morning by a loud bang, and we discovered ourselves here in this dimension. We came from a placed called Bielefeld. We don't know why we are here, or what purpose we'll serve, but we've come to trust Demens over the years. He always puts our best interests first."

Volker leaned forward and lowered his Bavarian-accented voice to a conspiratorial tone, "But outside those doors, Miss, are some wondrous things. Minotaurs and centaurs, wizards and fairies. Yet inside this Building, you'll find much of the same. Magic users and cyborgs, strange alien biomachines and androids, humble humans and daemon hosts, angels and demons. You've been thrust into the midst of a strange ensemble, and invited to a truly epic waltz. Don't be afraid, and don't let it pass you by, Asdra Karenis. Immerse yourself in it and savor every last bite."

The fluttering of soft wings drew his attention. A vibrant green parakeet soared through the lobby and landed on the desk between them. It screeched a loud TWEET! and then violently exploded, leaving behind only a few feathers and a green envelope. Volker plucked it from the surface and blew some downy plumes from it before peeking inside.

"Ah, this is for Chrys or Minerva. Building manager's permission for the chicken coop. Here, if you sign your lease quickly, you can bring it to them," he slid a clipboard across the desk. A standard lease agreement was attached to it. "As for the Building's amenities? There's a pool and sauna on this floor, as well as a library. Upstairs you'll find a communal dining room, a kitchen, and a recreational room. The roof has a nice seating area and some turrets. Try to stay out of the maintenance corridor unless you're going out the back door, and leave off the lower floors; the tech priests get fussy when people fuck around their forges."

He patiently waited for Asdra to sign her name, then exchanged the clipboard for a golden key. "Put the key in your apartment door. You'll find it suits your needs perfectly. You'll be in 6J. I recommend you take the lifts. Minerva and Chrys are on the second floor, in the dining room with other Residents. Please take this envelope to one of them."

[Primordial Luxa]

SHEEP
Aegis unlike most was a creature born and nurtured on the darkness of black magic and cruel creatures so while he maintained a stealthy military step and cast his eyes carefully from corner to corner he also hummed one of the melodies which his mother had sung to him as a child. It was radically different from the limerick which the harpy was reciting however with more references to the Black Goat of the Woods who he hoped had some sort of foot hold here. He imagined that whatever deity had created this world would have kept his pantheon out but he still hoped that if any monsters living in these woods that they would be familiar. Although he was cynical enough to know that just things were wistful thinking.

As Aegis pondered his surroundings and how magically steeped they were with the eyes and breaths of unnatural phenomena, he realized that their were many features of this area that would have made some of his magical trinkets useless. But luckily he had not brought the insidious corpse crafted hand of glory, with him. Truth be told he did not bring it with him often since its power was great and its form fragile like that of most candle. He also didn’t have his sword of alchemical metal or the Yuggothian bio armor composed of powerful nervous bundles. He might have bought if he felt he had needed them but when Old Sam had mentioned sheep he did not consider using them since his own martial prowess seemed enough. Truth be told even without them he still felt safe since if worst came to worst his magic and gun would be more than enough...he hoped.

“I am not fond of it either” Aegis replied in a quiet voice to Nila before turning around to address the entire group. “Okay people lets all just hold on for a little bit the sun should be creeping up very soon when it does we are all going to need to step into the field. Once we do i’m going to try fire a couple of shots above their heads to frighten them. Then….” he looked around before pointing to Kale obviously he was trying to add a little tactical strategy to this entire operation in the little time they had “Why don’t you stay towards the back with me, if anyone looks like they're in trouble can you use the grass to create a shield around them?”

He then turned towards Ocho and Nila “How comfortable would the two of you be with leading the charge?” he then looked at Nick and Sandy “And what if you two act a second rank to deal any stragglers or to help wherever we need it the most? I think that might work best but if anyone has a better plan I’m all ears.”

Dinning Room
“A library is always more preferable.” He said as though such a decision was more objective than aestical and the two were able to quickly and politely adjourn themselves to themselves to the reading room, which Primordial saw as a small but very dense room consisting of a few couches, tables and with every single wall being composed of sprawling bookshelves. Like all things in the build to him it reeked of rich Victorian baroque wood and Gothic structural flourishes, such as intricate medieval carvings across the door frames, stained glass light fixtures that cast queer shadows in the corners of the rooms and half dead roses in many of the vases which filled the place with a sickly sweet hue. As the too of them entered he began to wander over to one of the couches whiling fishing a blue pill out of his pocket which he consumed as he began to recline.

“So Minerva what may I ask is the subject of this conversation?” He said while raising an eyebrow and smiling pleasantly at her.

[Giovenith]

Fully stirred from that short sequence of events, Willow took a deep breath and set out to prepare for the day. He started with a quick slipping into the godling's room, carefully flying above her and shaking her by her arm.

"Geo-puzzle," he said gently, attempting to rouse her. "Rise and shine, Celestia smiles upon us, it's a brand new day." Only groans in return. "I know, I know. I'll give you a few minutes to wake up yourself."

Leaving her to that, the pegasus quickly went through the motions of getting ready for the day, extremely grateful that he now had a personal bathroom for the purpose. A face wash, mane comb, preening, and teeth brushing later, he was slipping on his wristbands but bemoaning the state of his sweater in his forelegs. This thing was officially lifeless now, gone through too many adventures, wearings, and washings to be of good use now. He set it aside, deciding to go without it, and went to check on Giovenith again.

She was still in bed.

"Gio, you need to get up soon," Willow repeated patiently, walking over and nudging her tired form again. He received more sleepy groans. "I know you're sleepy but there's a lot we need help with today. Just five more minutes of rest..."

He left yet again, this time to properly organize the supplies that Rache had left behind. He'd taken the toaster but left much else, including Hans' book, which the pony imagined the cultist would be wanting back when he finally returned from his insanity vacation. Resolving to keep it safe till then, he carefully shoved it into a one of the drawers of their new living room nightstands, knowing it would stay dry, protected, and easily found.

He checked a nearby clock. He frowned.

"Giovenith!" Willow roused with less sympathy than before, though patience still in tact as he entered his roommate's room a third time. "I'm serious, you need to get up right now. There isn't time to be sleeping in with our current situation."

"I'm coming, I'm coming..." the girl's muffled voice assured with agitation, a fluffy dandelion head emerging from under a pillow. Satisfied, Willow left her to her own devices yet again, off to tie together a few last minute chores before setting out to his miniature mission.

A more interesting question would be how they would continue to feed Turtleboss. Presumably the little sucker could snack on just about anything, but they'd always tried to keep him from drawing the anger of property owners by putting him on a diet of specially-made food pellets. There was still plenty left in the bag (which Willow was now pouring into the creature's food bowl), but they would inevitably run out, and he doubted they sold the same brand here. Done with that, he took the creature's minuscule water dish and filled that up too. But before he could set it down, he looked at the clock again.

Icy blue eyes narrowed.

He didn't bother to announce himself the fourth time. She was far too deep in her sleep to hear him opening her door or sense him briefly considering her from the opening. Nonchalantly, the pegasus-pony placed the edge of the water bowl between his teeth and flew over again to his friend, giving her another faux-innocent moment of consideration before steadily emptying the small bowl over her head.

Giovenith sputtered into full consciousness, shocked out of comfort by the cold, wet intrusion, wiping frantically at her face and hair and calculating what had just happened. When she saw the grey pony landing next to her bed, she glared.

"Willow, what was that for?!" she demanded, smearing water from her eyes.

"Third time's the charm, fourth time... not quite as charming," he answered, balancing the bowl on a hoof. "It's time to get up. There's going to be a feast of gratitude today, and we're going to need all the help we can to make sure it influences the community properly."

"We're having a Thanksgiving?"

"I suppose that's a good way to put it. Come on, I'm going to need some help carrying this stuff."

Less concerned about her appearance than he, Giovenith was quickly in slicking her hair back and pulling on some shoes to assist Willow with the supplies. There wasn't terribly much left behind, but they nonetheless worked to pile some of it in their useful little red wagon and the rest into Giovenith's arms, Willow pulling the wagon along with her right behind it. All was going well as they started out the door, though as Willow pulled ahead down the hall Giovenith lingered.

She was looking toward Marcus' door and deliberating within. Though he had apologized to her yesterday they were still in a rather tense situation, as the cyborg boy hadn't yet had the chance to be reassured of her own feelings, in that while she didn't approve of the aggression she nonetheless possessed some understanding of the situation. She wasn't about to cast Drova into the pit of despair or anything, but she also didn't want Marcus to think she had abandoned him. The two of them were still young and thus hadn't yet had a lot of opportunity to get used to the responsibilities of love, the stuff outside the immediate warmth, which they were going to have to work on if they wanted that future.

That future. Yes, they were shooting for that, weren't they? They'd never explicitly said so, but thinking from her heart, it was clear that was what they were doing. Neither of them were sure how to or how long it would take to get there, but what they'd seen in the tent nonetheless seemed to be the ultimate goal, whatever it had been. Oh Giovenith had guesses, heavy guesses that never received too much excessive critical though, on account of the implications still making her blush and squirm a little too much. After all, what it did it make two people currently if they were already both in agreement to eventually m-

"Are you okay?" Willow stirred from her thoughts with a nipping tug of her sleeve, concerned look on his face.

Confused at first, the godling nodded and pat the pony's neck in reassurance. "I'm okay, just thinking."

"About what?"

"Personal things."

"I see." And he did, Willow wasn't the type to steal another's secrets for his own amusement. Despite what the bowl incident might otherwise indicate, he did have respect for his roommate, and allowed her the parameters to sort her private struggles. They all had things better kept to themselves. With that established, the two set their minds to the more important and open task of bringing their wagon downstairs and into the communal kitchen.

[Highfort]

"You mean you won't be hurting anyone today, General," Officer Harlem grit his teeth, spitting the title with as much venom as he could muster, the man's eyes narrowing as he eyed over Romulus obeying the instructions, "Kleo, escort him to the bunker and get him stripped and disarmed. You've just lost the privilege of having your gear on you, General. You're lucky we're not keeping it; you'll get it back after you leave the city."

"Easy, Charles," Officer Kleo kept her rifle trained on the power-armored man but gestured her head toward Thaddeus, "His friend looks friendly enough. He's offering to sell out Mr. Aphrodisiac and he's gonna let us search the truck. We don't have to pull 'em in lean and mean like we usually do. They mean we-"

"Like shit they mean well," Charles grunted, eyeing Barruda warily, though he kept the shotgun trained on Romulus, "I know you sell all that underground crap but do your damned job for once. These people are dangerous, and we can't afford to have them running around. Smiling faces hide knives, you know that - way of the streets. If the Judge finds them innocent, then fine, but I'm not taking the risk of just letting them waltz in. Apprehend them, Officer Kleo."

"Take it easy," Septimus hissed at both Rodney and Insidious, "Try not to show off and draw attention. They're watching us, you know? Hope they can't read lips from 500 meters, or we're all fucking dead."

"Sorry, Mr. Usseio, that's the rule," Officer Kleo offered him a sympathetic nod, "I'll try and be gentle, alright? Don't resist, the Judge is a nice guy."

"Yeah, on his good days," Charles snorted, keeping an eye on Romulus before a panicked voice crackled in his ear.

"One of the passengers is reaching for something!" a sniper shook as he peered at Rmwtyliin through his scope, "She just put her hand in her jacket!"

"Hey, hands up!" Charles barked, "All of you, in the truck, hands up! If I see any of you reach for anything else I'm opening fire! That goes for all the snipers in the tower, too! Shoot to kill!"

Septimus raised his arms immediately, fully aware of the laser sight on his forehead. No doubt there were dots trained on the others in the car as well, "Amanda, Rodney, Rmwtyliin, Insidious, hands up. Don't do anything else, we've pissed them off enough. Damn it."

The atmosphere was heavy as the civilians sat in their cars, shaking. Gate jumpers were always the worst - not only was your routine totally thrown out-of-the-loop but you were left wondering if a stray piece of shrapnel was gonna end up ripping its way through your head. Exploding vehicles were an all-too-common fact of life when gate jumpers were involved with the Urbem Ascalon Border Patrol.

The odd obscenity pierced the silence as some less-patient businessmen cursed their rotten luck at being caught at the checkpoint when a newcomer was trying to get through.

"Shut up back there!" Charles grit his teeth, assessing the situation, "Alright, I've had enough of this shit. Barruda, tag and bag 'em. I want armor boy over there knocked out and his friends bagged and sent to the Judge's Palace. No exceptions, not even for Thad's-his-face. And if any of you think of resisting, I'll make sure to give the lion's share of the loot to whoever gets the killshot on your ass."

"You heard him," Officer Kleo hardened her voice. Apparently these clients weren't gonna go quiet and easy. No matter, she had no qualms with roughing up customers, "All of you, out of the truck. Mr. Usseio, you'll be going with them. I'm sorry. You won't be harmed, but we're taking you in for questioning. Your belongings will be impounded with the truck and free to collect after you have a word with the Judge. Resist and lethal force is authorized; comply and we'll try to make this as easy for you as possible."

Before she could address Romulus, two more officers emerged from the machine gun nest. Faces obscured by masks, they walked past Charles waving long poles with stun-sticks attached at the ends. The buzzing of current indicated they fully intended to make this a painful experience for him.

"Hope you're ready for this, big boy," one of them smirked beneath the mask before shoving the stick right in the General's face, the arcing electricity connecting with his nose and mouth to deliver a painful jolt of current. The second followed suit, running behind Romulus and dispatching a similar current into the back of his head.

With little more than a hiss and scream, the General was brought to the ground, his bulk making him difficult to lift. Five more men were requisitioned with a body cart, dragging his unconscious form over to one of the machine gun nests to begin stripping him of any armor and weapons.

Officer Kleo kept her eyes trained on the group as Septimus was the first to emerge. Being much shorter than Thaddeus, he received his bag first. Another, more junior officer came forward with bags, Barruda never lowering her rifle as the bagging operation began.

"Sorry, this is for the safety of the city," Officer Kleo offered him a sympathetic look before the younger officer pulled the cloth over his head, securing it with a noose around the base of his neck, "Can you breathe? Good. Don't try using that cyborg eye, we plan for these sorts of eventualities. Step to the side so we can secure your friends. Mr. Usseio, you're up next. If you'll just squat or bend on your knees so my associate can reach you, we can get this over with."

A klaxon sounded around the other checkpoint kiosks, indicating the coast was clear, a message blaring over the loudspeaker system, "Citizens, we thank you for your patience. The other border checkpoints will be opening soon. If you are in the obstructed lane, please merge into an adjacent line and use an alternate, open kiosk. We apologize for the inconvenience this delay has afforded you. We are always looking out for your safety."

[Charmera]

LOBBY

"You are exactly where you are meant to be," Volker lowered his eyes to observe the newcomer, "And we know your name because you have been chosen to join the other Residents at this Building. As to who would choose you? Mr. Demens, of course. The landlord. You must have an ability or talent that he deems useful."

His hand swept towards the Building's front doors where the gloom of the pre-dawn hour hung. Thick fog prevented Asdra from seeing much beyond the front porch. "Do not ask where the Building is. We haven't figured that out yet. We were awoken yesterday morning by a loud bang, and we discovered ourselves here in this dimension. We came from a placed called Bielefeld. We don't know why we are here, or what purpose we'll serve, but we've come to trust Demens over the years. He always puts our best interests first."

Volker leaned forward and lowered his Bavarian-accented voice to a conspiratorial tone, "But outside those doors, Miss, are some wondrous things. Minotaurs and centaurs, wizards and fairies. Yet inside this Building, you'll find much of the same. Magic users and cyborgs, strange alien biomachines and androids, humble humans and daemon hosts, angels and demons. You've been thrust into the midst of a strange ensemble, and invited to a truly epic waltz. Don't be afraid, and don't let it pass you by, Asdra Karenis. Immerse yourself in it and savor every last bite."

The fluttering of soft wings drew his attention. A vibrant green parakeet soared through the lobby and landed on the desk between them. It screeched a loud TWEET! and then violently exploded, leaving behind only a few feathers and a green envelope. Volker plucked it from the surface and blew some downy plumes from it before peeking inside.

"Ah, this is for Chrys or Minerva. Building manager's permission for the chicken coop. Here, if you sign your lease quickly, you can bring it to them," he slid a clipboard across the desk. A standard lease agreement was attached to it. "As for the Building's amenities? There's a pool and sauna on this floor, as well as a library. Upstairs you'll find a communal dining room, a kitchen, and a recreational room. The roof has a nice seating area and some turrets. Try to stay out of the maintenance corridor unless you're going out the back door, and leave off the lower floors; the tech priests get fussy when people fuck around their forges."

He patiently waited for Asdra to sign her name, then exchanged the clipboard for a golden key. "Put the key in your apartment door. You'll find it suits your needs perfectly. You'll be in 6J. I recommend you take the lifts. Minerva and Chrys are on the second floor, in the dining room with other Residents. Please take this envelope to one of them."

Asdra looked at the clipboard, at first unsure whether or not this was all a dream of some sort. But she reasoned this was too... strange to be a dream. Exploding birds were the kinds of things she wasn't accustomed to seeing. She considered what was left behind her for a moment, her forge, her life, her tools. And she was suppose to just sign a clipboard. But then again, she was far too curious now and realistically she saw no other alternative considering where she now was in relation to where she had been before. No choice but to embrace the change. Being stubborn would likely not help, and she wished to find out more about this place. Were there metals she could use with new exciting properties? Was there anyone else with her runecraft talents? It stood to reason there could be, but she doubted it. It didn't seem like she would have been selected or whatever if that were the case, since she doubted she was here because of her good looks and winning smile.

Plus, she got an apartment out of the deal. So that was great at least. She signed her name.

"Before I go... I need to ask a few questions." She spoke. "I know I have my hammer," She could feel it attached to her belt. "But what happened to the rest of my tools? Are they in my room, or have they been left behind?" She then paused. "Also, I'm guessing going back is out of the question too."

I'll see if I can deliver whatever this envelope is before I go to my room. Might as well, since floor 2 in on the way to floor 6.

[Northwest Slobovia]

Into the Woods
Sandy joined the others near the edge of the sheep meadow, and listened to Aegis' plan. "It's not a bad plan, though I'm not convinced gunfire will do more than get their attention. I guess we'll find out. Mind your aim, as well; I don't want to find out the consequences of killing one."

"I'd like to add two things to your plan, Aegis. First, since we need to enter the field simultaneously, I think we should all count three together and then step in together. I don't want anybody left behind. Second, we're supposed to 'distract the adults and lead them away'. We'll have to see if other groups reappear once we're in the field, to give us an idea of where we should be leading the sheep. Otherwise, we'll have to figure out a good direction ourselves; I'm open to suggestions."

While he waited for replies, Sandy slid his stick out of a pocket and extended it to staff size. Addressing the group, he added, "I can make it longer for leaping over sheep, if need be. I also have a few alchemetical cures with me: some of the Balm of Gilead to stop bleeding and close wounds, and some Ox Blood to speed healing. Staying clear of the sheep is still the best idea."

"And those of you with magic, care in your spellcasting. We're here at others' pleasure, and this is their home. I'm planning on using spells only for emergencies."

...and into the fire
Amanda didn't need to be asked twice to raise her hands. She slowly raised them and followed the others out of the truck. She'd ordinarily be inclined to rip the "general" a new hole, but instead drew a slow, ragged breath and took the bookseller's advice. He was apparently this mission's plucky comic relief, and she could only be amazed at his uncanny timing: just a moment later, and the effect would have been entirely lost. She decide an inward smile at the situation would have to do, given how touchy the guards were already. If this was happening to anybody else, it would be really funny: an armored Baron Munchausen with his own special effects system would go over really well with some crowds.

She waited quietly for the guards to put a bag over her head. There was, she supposed, always the chance the judge was honest.

[Tiltjuice]

LOBBY

"You are exactly where you are meant to be," Volker lowered his eyes to observe the newcomer, "And we know your name because you have been chosen to join the other Residents at this Building. As to who would choose you? Mr. Demens, of course. The landlord. You must have an ability or talent that he deems useful."

His hand swept towards the Building's front doors where the gloom of the pre-dawn hour hung. Thick fog prevented Asdra from seeing much beyond the front porch. "Do not ask where the Building is. We haven't figured that out yet. We were awoken yesterday morning by a loud bang, and we discovered ourselves here in this dimension. We came from a placed called Bielefeld. We don't know why we are here, or what purpose we'll serve, but we've come to trust Demens over the years. He always puts our best interests first."

Volker leaned forward and lowered his Bavarian-accented voice to a conspiratorial tone, "But outside those doors, Miss, are some wondrous things. Minotaurs and centaurs, wizards and fairies. Yet inside this Building, you'll find much of the same. Magic users and cyborgs, strange alien biomachines and androids, humble humans and daemon hosts, angels and demons. You've been thrust into the midst of a strange ensemble, and invited to a truly epic waltz. Don't be afraid, and don't let it pass you by, Asdra Karenis. Immerse yourself in it and savor every last bite."

The fluttering of soft wings drew his attention. A vibrant green parakeet soared through the lobby and landed on the desk between them. It screeched a loud TWEET! and then violently exploded, leaving behind only a few feathers and a green envelope. Volker plucked it from the surface and blew some downy plumes from it before peeking inside.

"Ah, this is for Chrys or Minerva. Building manager's permission for the chicken coop. Here, if you sign your lease quickly, you can bring it to them," he slid a clipboard across the desk. A standard lease agreement was attached to it. "As for the Building's amenities? There's a pool and sauna on this floor, as well as a library. Upstairs you'll find a communal dining room, a kitchen, and a recreational room. The roof has a nice seating area and some turrets. Try to stay out of the maintenance corridor unless you're going out the back door, and leave off the lower floors; the tech priests get fussy when people fuck around their forges."

He patiently waited for Asdra to sign her name, then exchanged the clipboard for a golden key. "Put the key in your apartment door. You'll find it suits your needs perfectly. You'll be in 6J. I recommend you take the lifts. Minerva and Chrys are on the second floor, in the dining room with other Residents. Please take this envelope to one of them."

Asdra looked at the clipboard, at first unsure whether or not this was all a dream of some sort. But she reasoned this was too... strange to be a dream. Exploding birds were the kinds of things she wasn't accustomed to seeing. She considered what was left behind her for a moment, her forge, her life, her tools. And she was suppose to just sign a clipboard. But then again, she was far too curious now and realistically she saw no other alternative considering where she now was in relation to where she had been before. No choice but to embrace the change. Being stubborn would likely not help, and she wished to find out more about this place. Were there metals she could use with new exciting properties? Was there anyone else with her runecraft talents? It stood to reason there could be, but she doubted it. It didn't seem like she would have been selected or whatever if that were the case, since she doubted she was here because of her good looks and winning smile.

Plus, she got an apartment out of the deal. So that was great at least. She signed her name.

"Before I go... I need to ask a few questions." She spoke. "I know I have my hammer," She could feel it attached to her belt. "But what happened to the rest of my tools? Are they in my room, or have they been left behind?" She then paused. "Also, I'm guessing going back is out of the question too."

I'll see if I can deliver whatever this envelope is before I go to my room. Might as well, since floor 2 in on the way to floor 6.

"Residents have come and gone in the past," Volker allowed, "yet most stay, and the Building is the better for it, no matter who and what they are. In the end you should find they are all people, merely that some have a few extra parts or skills. As you do yourself."

He clapped his hands together lightly, then brought them apart again. "Mr. Demens has an uncanny ability to know the needs of new tenants. All their belongings, without fail, await them in their new lodgings."

[The BranRiech]

Builders build?

Bran took that statement as the official end to the strange little pep-talk Minerva had given them over breakfast. The conscript quizzically tugged at a stray clump of his long-ish hair, sighing. If the plumbing didn't hold up when the building was transported, it'd mean no more showers. "Weren't all the Tech Priests up at the observatory? Where are their tools?" He asked, unsure if Minerva even knew.

Bran silently berated himself for assuming that.

Of course Minerva knew. She knew everything, and wouldn't send them on pointless jobs with no hope of success. Minerva would only put someone to a task if she trusted they could do it. Of course, building a small shed for some birds wasn't the most glamorous, but it was an important job nonetheless.

[Cerillium]

COUNTING SHEEP

"Are you daft?!" Ocho's remaining ear thrust upward in surprise. "Aegis, you shoot that gun, they'll start screaming - and I fancy keeping my breakfast in place!"

Especially as it wasn't digested yet. He could still feel the live eels pleasantly writhing in his gut. The rest of Aegis' plan wasn't so bad. Kale's ability to manipulate grass immediately called to mind the killer blades from yesterday, but he set it aside for now. She might be able to create walls and herd them away peacefully. The cat's small size might be a boon. He imagined Nick trotting quietly through a flock unperturbed by something so nonthreatening. And then there was the lizard and Sandy. Did the wizard have a spell to render them all temporarily deaf? The construct could manipulate minds. Perhaps she might do something about the nausea?

The thade's eyes skimmed the horizon. The sense of foreboding remained with him, and the thought of entering a large clearing didn't sit well.

"I know nothing about herding," he finally replied. "We don't keep livestock. I agree we should step into the field on 3, though."



AW SHIT

Thaddeus wouldn't fault Charles for his sentiments. Procedure was procedure. "I'm happy to compl-"

And then shit hit the fan. There were only two females in the cab. One was naked. The old cyborg unleashed a growled string of expletives, most of them aimed directly at Rmw and her ancestors, then lifted his hands higher in response to commands. Part of him hoped she flinched. The other lamented the extra time it would take to wash her blood from the seats. Son of a bitch! This was precisely why he preferred to work alone.

"I'll comply," he raised his voice to be heard over the varied shouts. "We're happy to comp-"

And then Romulus went down. Well ain't that a hoot! Take down and ask questions later. For all the soldiers knew, the general was as gentle as a lamb. Discrimination ran high in this city. Thaddeus' eyes monitored the soldiers as they dragged the carcass away, but it wasn't long before he found himself confronted by Kleo again.

His brow raised at her attempt to pacify. Silvery orbs locked onto the woman's eyes, though he was careful to keep his expression neutral. "Safety concerns are understandable. I apologize for the inconvenience to your citizens, and to you." He turned his head to regard the nearly-stripped Romulus before adding, "Also, my bionics - er, plating, augmentations, and power sources - are not removable. I'm cyborg."

His knees bent to allow a soldier to reach his head. This wasn't the first bagging he'd experienced. Yet it was obvious from the comment regarding Septimus' eye that this wasn't the first time the soldiers had encountered people with enhancements.

[Fvaarniimar]

The Right Fork
Nick, clinging to Kale's clothing, shivered.  Scared.  Oddly enough, a bit excited.  Mostly scared!  Those eyes that kept vanishing when he tried to look...this was one of the spookiest forests ever.  His face had been buried in the plant girl's shoulder; he poked his head out to nod at Aegis' suggestion.  With one final nuzzle he pushed off of a covered part of her chest as opposed to jumping straight down, which lessened the distance to Sandy by maybe a foot.  He ran the rest of the way to Sandy's feet, arriving and nosing one as the sorcerer ceased speaking.

<Can I ride on you?>  A few images of those eyes in the woods accompanied the request, along with a rather uneasy feeling.  A few moments later he spoke up, addressing the group.  "Should we try to be sneaky?  If we're loud we might distract better?"

--

The Utter Mess
The phone fell on the truck seat.  Rmwtyliin didn't dare grab it.  I messed up.   Her hands went back on her head; she tried not to jostle the hairdo, although that was hardly a priority.  Should I try to explain?  Why would they believe it?  Maybe for now silence would be better.  Glancing at the rodent on her shoulder with her lips pressed tightly together as she fumed at the translation of Thaddeus' comments, she stepped out, nostrils flared.

The small teen wore a calf-length cornflower velvet gown embroidered with violet and mint.  Underneath it were brown shoes and thick knee-length pink stockings.  The materials were fairly cheap, but cut in a flattering manner.  Her hair was almost encrusted with fasteners, the most visible of these being bronze combs with shell inlay.  Only the strap of a smallish leather pouch was visible around her neck. The most threatening item it held was a rock with one edge as sharp as a butter knife. Over all of this went the coat responsible for all this hullabaloo - a voluminous, puffy purple one with a subtle argyle pattern and deep pockets (containing a few stray hair accessories and some nuts). The shivering girl now quite regretted having unzipped it in the truck.

It was somewhat easier to assess the situation now that she could see and hear more of the goings-on, although all she determined before being bagged was that the guards were mad and a terrifying amount of weapons were pointed at them.  She wanted to cry, or at least whimper. Normally a whimper would be a good strategy for a girl or even a woman in a dangerous situation - it might elicit pity - they could use some pity.  One of them had seemed somewhat nice...yet they responded like this when I grabbed the phone, without confirming that danger existed.  Her head hung.  I ought to have stayed still and kept my hands on my head.  Now we have no control of the situation...  Whimpering, or indeed any noise at all, might upset them further.

Besides, Rmwtyliin was a daughter of House Fvvarniimalasaakuuliia, a Naaliiasz.  If this was - if it was - she would not go down whimpering. Her actions had embarrassed her progenitors enough without such indignity.   She complied with the bagging without a word of protest, head hanging.  She traced her tattoo - mentally, as moving her hands seemed risky.  At least she couldn't see the scary weapons anymore, although she expected they were still pointed at her...  No one could see her face, could they?

At that realization she let herself cry, silently.

[Chedastan]

"Did you just call me " ol' Romy," Thaddeus?"

Romulus had said, questioningly to Thaddeus. But ignored that part soon after as he realized he was trying to sell him out to them. Really? He thought to himself, annoyed at one at his supposed allies, er neighbors, err whatever. The fact that this was the treatment he got from someone whom he helped yesterday, and someone whom he had already built some respect for, he didn't want to imagine what the others were thinking now.

None of this looked good at all, Titus Everest would had scolded someone for the poor planning that led to this, what were they thinking? Romulus didn't like the attitude Officer Harlem was giving him, as if he had touched on something soft in him, frankly, the General only saw that the officer was an unprofessional, uncultured, hardass who didn't seem to grasp what exactly General truly meant. The only way this could get worse, is if-

"All of you, in the truck, hands up! If I see any of you reach for anything else I'm opening fire! That goes for all the snipers in the tower, too! Shoot to kill!"

-Someone was idiotic enough to do something stupid to escalate the situation. It was one thing for the General to make a simple mistake, but it was something completely different for another person after him to do something stupid, as they were still in a high tension situation that could result in many deaths... He would have cross his arms in disappointment to whoever it was, but he would had gotten shot for it. And now the unprofessional one was barking to tag and bag them, including him especially, he wondered how they are going to do it. Even with 5th and even 6th Stock soldiers, they were at least taught to not be this foolish if they could help it, oh what he would do to have a bunch of him around him right now, like they did before.

The promised officers meant to apprehend him then arrived, with stun-batons and masks. Before they got close, he glared at Harlem and muttered a profanity at him. He looked down at the stun-baton wielding officers, and noted the high voltage sounds coming from them. Had this been any scenario where he wasn't completely surrounded, and had more confidence in his suit, he would had cut down the bastards where they ran towards him, and shot at the others with all little effort. Had he had an army with him, they would had then sacked and lay waste to the whole city. But no, he was going to have to take the abuse right now, and only be able to hope for retribution later. So disgraceful, having to take this from these kinds of people, only because he hoped to see some redeeming qualities in the others, and his will to live long enough to go home.

"Oh Officers, you are damn fools." He said to Harlem and Kleo before he would lower his arms and attempt to kill them with the autocannon, but he was interrupted before he could even start, from several tens of thousands of volts coursing from his face to the rest of his body. Ah he forgotten about those two. His body tensed, he quickly loss focus in everything, all he could do was curse and screamed at them before he lost his voice, and then shortly his conscious mind.

His suit, detecting that the General has gone unconscious from a non-lethal attack, locked the joints in place, and quickly lowered his face plate. He only fell from being tipped over from the second hit to the back of the head, making him tumbled forwards, and crashed on the ground.

When he briefly regain consciousness very shortly afterwards, at least a minute or two, they were about to pry him out his suit. At least that's the warning message running across his face said, not that he could read it well from his hazy vision. The red flashing warning light and siren in his helmet didn't help matters much, he could vaguely feel he was being moved around by multiple people. "Dammit." He muttered. Regretting going on this whole trip already, and regretting being with any of these people. He groaned, then realized they were going to probably pry him out. He couldn't let that happen, the suit! He couldn't afford to get it damage, and his weapons! These easily corruptible bastards have possibly no idea how to handle some of this equipment well, without killing or maiming themselves. No he had to get out of the suit pronto.

He pressed the button somewhere, and soon the back hatches of the suit opened up, and he was launched out of it by a couple feet away, flat on his back. Revealing to them his still large, only now black and absorbent body gloved covered self, with his gauntlets still on (they're there to stay for life after all). He couldn't get himself to move really, he could feel himself about to pass out again.

"If you tamper with my suit, I hope you're ready for a Hydra-Critical Cascade Event, and don't play with the sword." He warned them, not even bothering to look at them whilst he said it. Any moment now they'll knock him out again, any-

A stun-baton hit him in the chest, once again coursing many volts into the General. This time he convulsed and tried to hold the baton away, but that only made it worst. He screamed until he passed out again, this time for much longer.

[Charmera]

Asdra looked at the clipboard, at first unsure whether or not this was all a dream of some sort. But she reasoned this was too... strange to be a dream. Exploding birds were the kinds of things she wasn't accustomed to seeing. She considered what was left behind her for a moment, her forge, her life, her tools. And she was suppose to just sign a clipboard. But then again, she was far too curious now and realistically she saw no other alternative considering where she now was in relation to where she had been before. No choice but to embrace the change. Being stubborn would likely not help, and she wished to find out more about this place. Were there metals she could use with new exciting properties? Was there anyone else with her runecraft talents? It stood to reason there could be, but she doubted it. It didn't seem like she would have been selected or whatever if that were the case, since she doubted she was here because of her good looks and winning smile.

Plus, she got an apartment out of the deal. So that was great at least. She signed her name.

"Before I go... I need to ask a few questions." She spoke. "I know I have my hammer," She could feel it attached to her belt. "But what happened to the rest of my tools? Are they in my room, or have they been left behind?" She then paused. "Also, I'm guessing going back is out of the question too."

I'll see if I can deliver whatever this envelope is before I go to my room. Might as well, since floor 2 in on the way to floor 6.

"Residents have come and gone in the past," Volker allowed, "yet most stay, and the Building is the better for it, no matter who and what they are. In the end you should find they are all people, merely that some have a few extra parts or skills. As you do yourself."

He clapped his hands together lightly, then brought them apart again. "Mr. Demens has an uncanny ability to know the needs of new tenants. All their belongings, without fail, await them in their new lodgings."

"No point in leaving now I suppose. Got a lot of work to do..." She remarked, Asdra would miss the shop, but her mother had always said that she should seek new opportunities. Runes were never in great demand in her home city, while here she seemed to actually have a purpose. It always felt nice to be wanted. Asdra took the envolope and placed the key in the pocket of her smiths outfit. She then nodded politely. "Thanks. Let me know if you want anything Rune related." She honestly doubted he would, but she was grateful for the reception and she wanted to at least be polite. She hadn't been raised to be rude after all. The runesmith then made her way towards the elevator. She pressed the button for the second floor and waited for the metal box to take her up.

I wonder if you could make a rune elevator... It'd take quite a few runesmiths, or someone of exceptional magical talent or runecrafting skill. You'd need some way for each floor to be recognised by the lift. Merely going up wouldn't be enough either.

She then was brought back to her senses when she heard the elevator ding. She paused before stepping forward, as if this was the point of no return. She then shrugged and moved forward, she began to look around for Minerva or Chrys...

Probably should have asked what they look like...

[The Carlisle]

In the Forest of Damnation

Kale shivered as she walked just behind the others, her face pale as a ghost. The voices themselves didn't scare her as much as what they said did. They know what she did, and they know of Garrus. How could they? It was like they could pry into her mind and read her memories. She didn't get good vibes from this place before, and now this place actively scared her. They plant girl showed her discomfort and fear clearly on her face.

The only thing keeping her from leaving was the mission and the other people with her. It seemed to her that others weren't having a good time here either, especially Nick who was shivering almost as much as her. She felt a bit better knowing that. It was tough, very tough to ignore the constant tirade of bad feelings and voices, but she did her best to push it aside. She was on a mission, an important one. And this was but a small barrier to her, a test of her will. She could pull through, she has to pull through this. For the villagers, for the others here with her. She needed to push through.

Still shivering but walking with a more sure foot, she caught up with the others, walking beside Sandy. He, Ocho, and Aegis were making plans for what to do when they get out to the sheep field. The use of her magic was brought up, and she nodded to them in assurance. "I-I can do all that," she said with a slight quivering in her voice, "Push them away, shield us, make walls. Just tell me if you need it and I'll make it happen." She first felt like she didn't want to use her magic much, with the risks of what could happen. But they were putting their lives at risk, and putting limits on using it could risk injury or... worse. She just needed to keep focus and, if anything happens, deal with it quickly.

[Tiltjuice]

The scene that met Asdra's eyes as she stepped off the elevator included a tall man with knife in hand, a beige-haired winged creature, and two seemingly ageless women - one taller and somewhat, possibly, resembling Asdra herself; the other shorter, pale-skinned and blonde, clad in an unusual tan and gray uniform with a sheathed sword angled across her back. The winged one's expression hinted at a sharp-toothed grin, though the intent behind it only a keen observer could tell; he also seemed to have taken a certain interest in the shorter woman's ice blue eyes. Drifts of the conversation reached Asdra's ears - something about chickens and building and wood?

Beyond them, immediately in the field of view, were another three figures. A rough-looking redhead, an average-looking friendly man with a half-eaten waffle, and a smaller chalk-white man with green eyes and black hair, shorter even than the woman with the sword. Who, at this point, had looked 'round instinctively in response to the elevator's chiming and walked balletically toward Asdra, excusing herself quickly to the winged man. Extending a hand in greeting, the woman smiled warmly.

"Hello, have you just moved in? If so, you came to the right place. I'm Chrysanthe - or Chrys, for short. Sorry for the hubbub - we're in the middle of figuring a few things out in our new environment here. You're welcome to join, if you like, and I can introduce you to everyone."

[Charmera]

The scene that met Asdra's eyes as she stepped off the elevator included a tall man with knife in hand, a beige-haired winged creature, and two seemingly ageless women - one taller and somewhat, possibly, resembling Asdra herself; the other shorter, pale-skinned and blonde, clad in an unusual tan and gray uniform with a sheathed sword angled across her back. The winged one's expression hinted at a sharp-toothed grin, though the intent behind it only a keen observer could tell; he also seemed to have taken a certain interest in the shorter woman's ice blue eyes. Drifts of the conversation reached Asdra's ears - something about chickens and building and wood?

Beyond them, immediately in the field of view, were another three figures. A rough-looking redhead, an average-looking friendly man with a half-eaten waffle, and a smaller chalk-white man with green eyes and black hair, shorter even than the woman with the sword. Who, at this point, had looked 'round instinctively in response to the elevator's chiming and walked balletically toward Asdra, excusing herself quickly to the winged man. Extending a hand in greeting, the woman smiled warmly.

"Hello, have you just moved in? If so, you came to the right place. I'm Chrysanthe - or Chrys, for short. Sorry for the hubbub - we're in the middle of figuring a few things out in our new environment here. You're welcome to join, if you like, and I can introduce you to everyone."

Asdra was a bit taken aback. It wasn't like she didn't believe the whole spiel about there being angels and demons. But she supposed she still didn't think it was true for some reason. Of course angels were real, even on her world that was true. But they were rare even before the modern age. One couldn't expect to see them very often at all. She was reminded of her first reaction, wondering it this was a dream or something, Snap out of it, just because he has wings doesn't mean he's an angel...

She then noticed the woman with the sword. With the amount of people with sheathed weaponry, Asdra was feeling vaguely nervous. She kept her hammer out yes, but she looked like a smith, so that offset the threatening aura a weapon usually gave. As far as she knew, these guys had no excuse to have weaponary, so either violence was normal here or there was otherwise a reason to be concerned. She shook her head, mentally chastising herself for being skittish. If anyone started trouble, she could always introduce them to her hammer.

"Well, I haven't exactly moved in yet, but yes, I am new." Asdra remarked, taking the hand in her own gloved hand and shaking it. "I'm Adrasta or Asdra. Either works really." She then nodded. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to get to know people." Then her memory returned to the envelope. She dug it out and handed it to Chrys. "Oh, here, this is for you. Was told to give it to either you or someone called Minerva."

[Tiltjuice]

The envelope disappeared into Chrys' pocket, rather carelessly; the note inside read more carefully.

"Oh, perfect! Demens never misses a trick. Almost unnerving, in a way. But he never bothers us, so it's not so much a bother. Come on. Minerva - or the Captain as some call her - is the red-haired woman. The man next to her with the waffle is Bran Nikanor. The more colorful one is - uh, I think his name is Cat. He's a new Resident, too. My feathery friend is Drova. He's royalty of a sort," she mentioned confidentially. "Along with him in the crown club is Thriller, who's an emperor, but remarkably casual about that and his height. My counterpart over here is Anais, who leads a mystical guild. Finally, my sword. I really must apologize, but I came from a rough neighborhood some time ago, and I'm still in the habit of wearing it. Not to mention it's part of my work, but that's for another time."

She stepped back and looked at both groups at large. "Ah, Captain, I hope I don't intrude...?"

[Germanic Templars]

Fresh, black coffee from the new batch from the pot steamed out of Thriller's German Shepard coffee cup. His thick cigar smoldered in a personal ashtray of his as he sat back at the table, reconsidering his plans that he made, wondering if he should go back and revise them. The fragile state of his empire strained the emperor's patience with this universe they were condemned to. Enough to the point where he was vigorously combing through his beard with his rough fingers, not even stroking it like a wise man would.

Along with him in the crown club is Thriller, who's an emperor... Thriller's mind stopped to the sound of his name being thrown about. He maybe legally blind, but he was not Helen Keller and he could still hear pretty well after years of war. Thriller's fingers lifted out of the beard, motioning over to rest in his lap with the rest of his forearm while his other hand - right hand - burrowed into his trench coat behind the left breast pocket.

His eyes glanced up at Chrys and the new person, Asdra. Oh, introduction, how quaint. "i'm only 6 foot 4 without my mech suit. 8 foot with the one in the apartment, and 12 foot back on Gliese. Yes I wear different suits for different occasions." Thriller chimed. "Full name is Cornelius Thriller, lass. Forgive me if I look like shit, I just got done with some plans I have been working on for a few days."

[Charmera]

The envelope disappeared into Chrys' pocket, rather carelessly; the note inside read more carefully.

"Oh, perfect! Demens never misses a trick. Almost unnerving, in a way. But he never bothers us, so it's not so much a bother. Come on. Minerva - or the Captain as some call her - is the red-haired woman. The man next to her with the waffle is Bran Nikanor. The more colorful one is - uh, I think his name is Cat. He's a new Resident, too. My feathery friend is Drova. He's royalty of a sort," she mentioned confidentially. "Along with him in the crown club is Thriller, who's an emperor, but remarkably casual about that and his height. My counterpart over here is Anais, who leads a mystical guild. Finally, my sword. I really must apologize, but I came from a rough neighborhood some time ago, and I'm still in the habit of wearing it. Not to mention it's part of my work, but that's for another time."

She stepped back and looked at both groups at large. "Ah, Captain, I hope I don't intrude...?"

She seems nice. Asdra thought to herself as she was given a rundown of the people in the immediate area. She tried her best to file their names away, though it was going to be hard to remember them all. She noted that there were at least two royals and a captain, though honestly Asdra was not one to be impressed by rank. Mech suits on the other hand...

Fresh, black coffee from the new batch from the pot steamed out of Thriller's German Shepard coffee cup. His thick cigar smoldered in a personal ashtray of his as he sat back at the table, reconsidering his plans that he made, wondering if he should go back and revise them. The fragile state of his empire strained the emperor's patience with this universe they were condemned to. Enough to the point where he was vigorously combing through his beard with his rough fingers, not even stroking it like a wise man would.

Along with him in the crown club is Thriller, who's an emperor... Thriller's mind stopped to the sound of his name being thrown about. He maybe legally blind, but he was not Helen Keller and he could still hear pretty well after years of war. Thriller's fingers lifted out of the beard, motioning over to rest in his lap with the rest of his forearm while his other hand - right hand - burrowed into his trench coat behind the left breast pocket.

His eyes glanced up at Chrys and the new person, Asdra. Oh, introduction, how quaint. "i'm only 6 foot 4 without my mech suit. 8 foot with the one in the apartment, and 12 foot back on Gliese. Yes I wear different suits for different occasions." Thriller chimed. "Full name is Cornelius Thriller, lass. Forgive me if I look like shit, I just got done with some plans I have been working on for a few days."

"Mech suits... interesting." Remarked the Smith as she looked to Thriller. Mech suits were science fiction in her world. Golems were common, and rune smiths could possibly get a larger suit of armour to ape a mech suit if there were enough to write the required runes for movement and such. It would take all sorts of complex rune code and far too many runesmiths, which is why no sane runeguild would ever make one. Autonomous suits are actually quite a bit easier to runecraft for. At the comment of looking like shit, Asdra allowed herself a tiny smile. "I'm a blacksmith, I'm no stranger to work taking it's toll on appearances."

[Cerillium]

ASCALON

The Nifid sighed. Crime was nonexistent in the Convocation, hence organized crime was unheard of. Corruption, however, had a very strong presence. The bastard was rather skilled at the game and the news of quickly approaching detainment sat well with him. Sure, their wallets would be a little lighter afterwards. This would be an excellent opportunity to network, provided the riffraff could keep their damn mouths closed and their hands in plain sight.

He cast a glance at Insidious and Rmw, then flinched at Romulus' bellows. The Luxan probably had the good sense to keep her trap tightly shut, but the primitive pretty princess and General Rutting had the potential to get them all killed. Networking was a delicate game. Too much would offend, too little would insult, and each word imparted came with a heavy price tag. All their lives currently lacked value, naturally. It was up to them to subtly assign that value in the eyes of this Judge. Pretty Princess and General Rutting wouldn't return to the Building if they shamed him into worthlessness.

Rodney maintained a bland expression as he nimbly slid from the seat. His boots touched down on hard pavement and he turned to face the bagging officer. The position offered him a view of Rmw as she was brought away, her shoulders shuddering as she silently cried behind the obfuscation offered by the bag. Damnit! See? This is was just what he had dreaded. The Judge would gain ground if she whimpered and sniveled in front of him. They'd lose a bit of leverage. Then again, the man might be a softy, but it would still cost them in the end.

The bag slipped over his head. The Nifid had no need of false eyes and ears anyway. He could sense his surroundings clearly, thank you very much. He made a good show of carefully placing his feet as they ushered him to the side, and he kept a steady watch on Residents, guards and pathways alike.

And then, because Rodney was an asshole at heart, he rammed two private tethers through space and time, slamming them into Septimus and Thaddeus' brains. The older cyborg had the good sense to cover his pained expression with a false sneeze. Rodney, however, wasted several femtoseconds puzzling out the lingering traces of Nifid permeating the younger cyborg's mind. No matter. It was on record that Septimus had been exposed to his people prior.

There wasn't any polite chime, and the invading thoughts were presented by many voices singing in harmony. "Listen to me. I do not trust the rest of these idiots to mind themselves. Should they compromise us, I will knock them out. Or exterminate them. Take your pick."

"Get out of my head, you fuckwhistle viruses," Thaddeus indignation couldn't convey itself directly to Septimus, but his response echoed along that tether nonetheless.

"Tsk, tsk, temper, temper, Tumbler Tick-Tock," the voices simpered, "Didn't the lizard teach you anything outside of rompytimes? Be grateful I didn't leave you out of the loop." Rodney smiled in spite of himself. "I suggest we do a little coordination along the way. Here's a precious gift to keep you both entertained."

He presented crackling wind and white noise to them, then slowly shaped it to be recognizable to their senses. Their surroundings became clear. "This is the moment when Old Grumpypants expresses his undying gratitude."

"Fuck you, fuckwhistle."

"That'll do, 'borg. That'll do."

[The BranRiech]

A blacksmith?

Drova looked over, and smiled at the new arrival. It was, again, one of his forced greetings that he always hated, but there was no way he could stop himself from putting up the facade. "Yes. I'm Drova." The uoung man in question stated, nodding his head. He knew it wasn't his place to ask questions, as he overheard her interest in Thriller's suit of armor, as something out of a fictitious book. At least it was something he could agree with as well.

With a curt nod following a once-over of the new arrival, Drova stepped forward, yet remained silent.

--

"Oh . . . So you're Cat? That's your name?"

Bran set the plate down, folding the last bit of the waffle like a burrito, and shoving the rest into his hungry mouth. Lacking the sophisticated manners of the Princely Drova, Bran continued to at least attempt to speak. "Well . . . She already introduced us to the new girl over there, but it's a pleasure." He reached a hand out to shake to the Zarkenian. It wasn't the cleanest of hands, with a few splotches of syrup clinging to him, a remnant of breakfast.

The name made sense in his head at least. However there was one thing he still didn't get.

Cat could be a name for either a man or a woman, and yet this person still looked like both, and neither at the same time. Cat looked human as well, but didn't. "If you don't mind me asking." Bran continued. "Where are you from?"

[Cerillium]

DINING ROOM

"Not all the priests," Minerva nodded her head at Bran. "Several moved in here when we thought we might become an internment camp. Brother Adrastus has a few cog boys working on various projects now. Power, water, gas, communications. You'll find them in the maintenance corridor. I believe they have a post-it note stuck on their door that reads Monastery."

The woman offered a soft chuckle. "By now, it's an engraved, titanium plaque replete with filigree and weensie winged skulls adorning its corners." She fluttered her fingers for emphasis. "They'll have some ordinary tools to play with. Powered saws, nail guns, caulk. They might even have paint and shingles. Might. Probably not the shingles."

Satisfied that plans were in motion, Minerva pushed in her chair. "Alright, Baron, to the library."


She followed him to the aforementioned room which, to her, looked like a private reading room tucked inside the Cambridge University Library. The door clicked closed behind them, and Minerva settled into an overstuffed leather chair by the fireplace. The cheery flames did nothing to dispel her dark mood.

"You and I, and I'm sure several other Residents, are having a public image problem," she said without preamble.

[Cerillium]

CLOSED DOORS, HALLS, AND KITCHENS

The teen's tongue, thrust from a corner of his mouth and trapped by his teeth, wiggled as he painstakingly nudged tiny screws into their molded brackets. Frustration had eaten away nearly all of his patience, and the lack of sleep jeopardized his concentration.

It wasn't fair. It was never fair. Marcus do this and Marcus do that. Never a please. Never a thank you. And now? Now he was going to be assigned to someone new. Itum wasn't as bad as his father, of course, but his hands would hold work orders. Nothing pleasant, all menial, the young man was certain of that. He probably didn't have a girlfriend, either. Yeah, old Itum would be all business. Typical cyborg.

Girlfriends.

His mind drifted away from his work, sliding right out his apartment and down a few doors where the most wondrous girl had set up her house. His tired mind summoned up memories of her laughter, and of her sweet smile. Just thinking about her heart made the burdens weighing down his fall away.

"Giovenith, I'm sorry," came his whispered lament. He didn't mean to ignore her. He would cast aside all his duties and obligations just to spend an afternoon - no, just an hour, please just one free hour? - with her. A soft click and the last screw fell into place, bless it, Omnissiah! The smile returned to the young man's face and he mopped his brow with a sleeve. Happy hands righted his project. He stepped back to survey his work.

The rotary candle holder glinted in the lamp light. Marcus slipped a lit tea light into its frosted glass bowl and carefully topped it with a silvery fan housed in the bowl's open cover. If he'd constructed everything correctly, the intricate dragon charms attached to the blade's ends would frolic and caper as they spun their circle. It was the most elaborate thing he'd ever attempted to create, as unaccustomed as he was to working on such a small scale.

The warm air rose, the carousel top turned - in the correct direction! "Yes!" Fistpump!

Marcus blew out the candle and replaced it with a fresh tealight before carefully nesting the entire project inside soft tissue paper and a lavender gift bag. The card simply read, Because you warm my heart. Corny, sure, but Marcus' talent wasn't up to snuff after only an hour's sleep.

He let himself out, locking his door behind him, and hung the bag on Giovenith's apartment doorknob. Metal knuckles knocked twice, their owner unaware that the godling had already slipped out, and then Marcus all but capered down the hall. He'd grab coffee before heading downstairs to nudge the construct from her sleeping basket and see if Itum had left work orders for him.


Familiar voices and squeaky wagon wheels greeted him as he stepped into the communal kitchen. Bewildered by so many people already roused pre-dawn, his eyes darted over their familiar faces and then alighted on the back of Giovenith's head. What was up?

He approached her and offered a sheepish good morning as he filled his mug.

"Did someone call a Resident meeting?" Marcus resisted the urge to kiss her cheek. She was probably still pissed off at him for tangling with Drova. Oh, and speak of the devil! Bah, bygones, man. Bygones. He forgave the prince earlier.