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

[Cerillium]

WHEN SUDDENLY...

Volker's head tilted as a flock of parakeets exploded from the pool room, swept across the lobby, and swooshed up the stairs. A moment later, a dull rumble indicated the Building was up to mischief on the second floor - not that anyone but him would notice it. He needn't look further than the mailboxes for the source however. Perching on a mailbox knob, a yellow parakeet carefully peeled the Bela's apartment number from the metal surface to offer to a red parakeet. The bright bird twitched before hocking up a wad of spit.

Ptoo!

The glob landed on the back of the label. The red bird slapped it onto a new mailbox.

Volker rose and shuffled towards the mailboxes. The birds took flight upon his approach. A smile spread across his lips as his eyes scanned the boxes. Demens had apparently added more apartments to the floor. And, given Amanda's love for a corner unit and all its peaceful views, he had made adjustments to keep her happy.

PROF & MRS BELA
2L

[Cerillium]

OPERATION: AMBROSE
DIMENSION: 139A
LOCATION: UNDISCLOSED
TEAM: PADRE

---

Marcus drew a deep breath and allowed his body to conform to the chair's gentle curves. It was a wonderful feeling to simply sit and not have to do anything. It was a fleeting feeling as well. The pager in his robe pocket vibrated against his loose runes and he, not wanting to disrupt the meeting, clapped a hand to his thigh and excused himself from the group.

He had gone no farther than the stairs when a sudden weight settled atop his head. This fuzzy mass buzzed with the same ferocity as the object in his pocket. "Hey MB," he murmured as a hand reached up to brush against the rabbit's soft fur.

More tattletale buzzing drifted his way once he reached the lobby. Mezran strode towards him, and the determined frown gracing his odd features robbed Marcus of mirth. They would need a Klingon warrior? Should he have packed something bigger than a bolt gun? He flirted with the idea of asking Mezran to wait while he grabbed something more substantial but, given that warriors were prone to rolling their eyes and grumbling, he thought it best to just set off and hope nothing too dire lurked in their immediate future.

"Hello, Mezr-" Marcus had no choice but to lope after the hasty Klingon.

Two bathtubs lazy hovered above the gravel outside the front doors. Marcus climbed into one and cast a glance at the Klingon as he settled into his own. The young man had never asked Mezran what he thought about this mode of transportation. Did Klingons even have bathtubs back home? Jesus, the lad's eyes narrowed as a new thought dawned on him. Surely Mezran was feeling much more cut off from society. He was alone here. No other warriors to drink with. The sole representative of his species, he probably craved the sound of his native tongue and the laughter of his former compatriots. Maybe he had a father back home? Or a wife? Kids?

A sudden mental image of little Mezrans chasing butterflies across the Building's front lawn caused Marcus to smile. He allowed the train of thought to go unchecked as they sailed over the tranquil sea and shower curtain sails folded to land the clawfoot tub at the Gatehouse grounds.

The floating island was as desolate as ever. Soft wind kissed the scant grasses and nipped at his red robes as the trio approached the old stone Gatehouse. They entered into its cool confines to find Myra curled in her hard chair. Apparently the mission had interrupted a checkers game between her and sinister Dweezle in the corner. Also apparent was the high amount of black checkers - obviously Myra's - now floating inside the blob creature.

"It's an arrival," the teenage girl drew up her invisible screen. She glanced at the display. "Clemence Peregrine Ambrose, a magos of some kind from Miavenise 139A. Also a fighter. Swords." This last bit was directed to Mezran. Looks like he's just cast the mother of all spells. Fatal for him. And- ho shit!"

Angry blue tendrils of light lashed out from the the Gate as it burst into activity. Marcus instinctively cringed and drew his hood up to ward off potential damage. He needn't have bothered. The Gate absorbed most of the blast and, in return, vomited up the unconscious form of a young man. Prince Ambrose had arrived - whether he was ready to or not!

"He's gonna be confused," Myra stated the obvious before returning to her display. The Gate's energy winked out leaving a ringing silence in its place.

Of course, no one would blame Clem for his confusion, if any, upon waking. He was a long way from home. Several shapes hovered over him. Mezran's odd forehead ridges and bristling facial hair made him stand out. Equally peculiar was the young man beside him - a cybernetic eye's red glow peered out from a summer-tanned face. The rabbit was still atop his head and, though Marcus had managed to cover him with the hood, whiskers, ears and eyes remained clearly visible as he poked his face out of the material's confines. The Gatehouse interior didn't really match the trio, either. Stark, made of stone, and containing only a chair (with a teenager parked in it), a side table and the Gate (the blob had retreated into the dark), it seemed entirely devoid of personal touches.

To Marcus, Clem appeared to be a priest of some sort. He wore robes of a different hue than the young cyborg's. He had a staff beside him. Poor guy. One more person torn away from their former lives. Then again, the newcomer was just spared death.

"Hey, you alright?" Marcus knelt close to Clem. "Just take a deep breath, okay? It takes a moment for the brain to cope with the sudden change. You're safe."


Rabbit and Warrior borrowed with permission.

[Saldinado]

Ascalon, The Littles

Walking with everyone, Henry looked around at the buildings and his surroundings; surprisingly, they looked like the one's at home. Secretly, he was excited to go shopping. He needed some things for his apartment, as well as other things. He was unlike his normal self though. Instead of talking and interacting with everyone, he kept quiet and to himself. He even went from the front of the group to the back. As if he was worried about something.

After what they said to him about being on their best behavior, he was a little paranoid and fearful of getting in trouble. Even though he wasn't the type of guy to actually do anything drastic or extreme; especially out in public. But he wasn't going to take any chances with himself. So he kept silent and continued to watch his environment.

And in all honesty, it was quite nice being quiet and just looking around. Might come in handy for later on in the future.

[Torsiedelle]

Ripped space-time reality? Interdimensional hiccup? Divine intervention? Katya was no expert on quantum physics and magic.

She was an expert on how her body worked, however.

She felt sick, as if her insides had been twisted around and set on fire. She clutched her stomach and whimpered in pain, as the pain slowly but surely resided. Once the pain had simmered down, she finally, slowly sat up. The silence settled in around her; she took in the cool air and distant muffled chatter from somewhere else down the halls. Were they home?

A pair of footsteps rounded the corner. Audette stepped by, cursing under her breath. Yep, they were home. The bet was off as well, apparently.

She sighed. "I need a shower.", She mumbled, as she slowly stood up. She paid little mind as she walked off, holding her belly. She was hating life, right up until she stumbled into her room and disappeared for the next few minutes.

.....

Dining Room

"What about insects and brutal death?"

Torii's tiny voice barely made a dent in the chatter of the others. Was Marcus going with them...wait, apparently not. He'd gone somewhere. When was she suddenly left alone?

She glanced both ways, and after realizing she was alone, shrunk away. Compared to the General and Venla, she was tiny - only a few inches taller than Rwmwtyliin.

She wouldn't stand a chance with whatever they had planned. Maybe she didn't want to be involved; there were more interesting things to do that shoot giant bugs...like science. She had an idea in place anyway.

[Altito Asmoro]

Ascalon, The Littles

Amanda answered as she led them down the cross street. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear it." Amanda's sympathy was tempered by the double unfairness of Julia's situation. Cheating on her husband -- if that's what she meant -- was wrong, but chasing Julia out of her homeland for that was excessive. After a moment's thoughtful silence, Amanda went on, not wanting to let the topic hang in the air. "I'm not sure where we can get a teddy bear, but there are plenty of stores that sell clothing along this street. We'll take you downtown later for the license."

Julia shook sadly, "I don't think you'll be sorry if you hear the real story." Julia's story for the affair is that, even though she tried hard to be the pilot, at the end she always though she was looked differently --because she's a woman -- and she wanted to be looked the same. She thought at that time that having an affair with her superior officer would granted her wish...but sadly, it's not. "I'm fine with it, either way. Lead the way, Amanda."

Amanda shook her head with a sad smile: she missed using the net from home, too. "There's no internet service at the Building, sorry. No TV or radio either. Physical law isn't the same everywhere in Gallimaufry, so we can't get signals from Ascalon. You'll have to buy a wireless plan for your phone to use here. There's some details you need to know about the city's network, but we can talk about them while I download references at the university." By which she meant: 'I should tell you about the dark net, but not in public.'

"It's fine actually. I don't think the use of wireless plan will change something drastic for me here either way, Amanda," she used to the situation where internet connection is not fast. South Africa has internet connections, but she usually spent time outside the signal range anyway.

Approaching the corner, Amanda pointed out a large store kittycorner to them. "Gold Star Market is closest you'll find to a supermarket this close to the university. It's a little small, even for an urban supermarket, but it has a larger selection and lower prices than the convenience stores closer in. Shall we?" Amanda made to cross the street.

At the corner, a large store was on the sight. Lower prices and larger selection is a very good combination. "Sure, Amanda. Lead the way," said Julia with a great grin on her face.

[Fraire]

Dining Room
Nathan didn't know what was going on, but several people were talking and it sounded like a war. What did I get myself into? he thought to himself. Then he thought that he could always leave if he wanted to, and Nathan was just happy being around people that weren't actively trying to kill him right now. But this was a dangerous way of thinking.

After listening to what they were saying, Nathan decided he should probably say something. He could get dragged into who-knows-what and there would be nothing he could do about it because he said nothing. Nathan conspicuously coughed. "Um... what exactly is going on? I didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on, but I've only been at this apartment for a day. Is there something I should be doing, or..." Nathan looked around expectantly for a response.

[Holy Lykos]

Dining Room

Romulus listened as Venla answered his question and provided more information to their mostly quiet group. His opinion on the mission wasn't changed too much at first, but then he noticed Venla's mention of the Devourers, implying that she had understood what they were, or at least had some idea of them. But he had realized from that, that something bigger could be at stake if the Devourers are to be implicated in such a comparably small matter, and he didn't like any possibility that could come from it if they were involved, as nothing insignificant could come to pass.

He looked at the image of the Xo'Lokako that Venla showed, thinking only of the possible danger it could present. Insectoids were always a brutal type in terms of fighting, as their fighting style always involved some form of dismemberment or disemboweling, never anything clean or mercifully quick. Though this at least helped by the fact that from what has been implied already, the Xo'Lokako don't appeared to possess any weapons besides from their natural claws, and would only really be a threat in large packs or swarms.

That is of course only really a concern if fighting does occur, which was probably very likely given that the species is growing increasingly violent and genocidal, thus granting a stronger likelihood of a confrontation happening. He looked at Rmw when she asked if this mission would be dangerous, and if he'll make them stay or not. "Well clearly this mission will be very dangerous." He flat out said to the whole group and continued.

"It would be foolish and highly naive to assume this mission wouldn't produce casualties, if the Xo'Lokako are to be unreasonable, and if whatever is causing them to be that way are very determined to see their agenda through. Of course it's not in our ideal place as Residents to instigate any unwarranted violence if possible, but that doesn't mean we can't defend ourselves if we must." He stated wholly and shortly in regards to the danger presented in the mission.

He looked down at Rmw once more, seeing her as obviously still in her tweens, basically still a child to him. He didn't want her to come along, he seen how she reacted to a tense situation by making it worse, and he doubted her usefulness to this mission. And he has seen enough children killed already to last a couple lifetimes. He reminisced his time in the trenches of St. La'Beik quite fondly again.

He turned back to Venla, "Your mission will happen, I'll accompany you on it, along with anyone else. If only because I think there might be something foul in the works on the Xo'Lokako's home world, something deserving of the Building's attention, though I can't say for sure about what exactly. Hence the need for us to investigate with you." He nodded towards her, then looked back to Rmw.

"But I'm not sure if you should come along, Rmw. This could get very messy very quickly through no fault of our own, and I don't know if you should be brought into that. It would seem very irresponsible for me to let you come." He said with honesty to her, though he felt he may have been too arbitrary in that assessment, maybe he should give her some kind of chance? "Look, if you can prove to me you can be useful on this thing, I'll let you on, but don't think it's because I wanted you to... There's not enough damn people around in this building that are available right now anyway."

Dining Room

Rmwtyliin had listened attentively to Duncan, nodding and gesturing in support of Venla at seemingly rather odd points, expression carefully blank at others. Most of her properly timed reactions had been to visual cues - the projection of the Xo'Lokako, for instance, had elicited an involuntary gasp and several moments of very wide eyes.

"I do have questions. First, Romulus, Venla, how dangerous do you believe this will be?" Purposely the young woman stood, walking to the window.  "Romulus, are you advising or commanding that we stay?" Either way, it was a potential excuse.  As Duncan translated, she opened it and tossed her apple core onto the lawn.

It wasn't that the girl didn't care.  It wasn't that she didn't want to go. She was scared. Romulus held a Corps-like position.  If he said to get to safety, Rmwtyliin would comply.  If he declared a place or situation unsafe - this included - Rmwtyliin would be slow to question orders to leave, or advice to not go.  She truly did fear his capacity for bloodshed - an odd lizard's endorsement counted for little, and the girl was tempted to ask Romulus if he'd killed.  Provided that violence was not being called for, however, the man's opinion was respected in matters of defense and not many orders would override his.

"If I do not understand, I am sorry, but if you think someone is causing this - those unfriendlies, perhaps?" Rmwtyliin took her seat again. "Perhaps we need to think like those opposing us. We cannot quickly assume that the Eaters All Sucking are responsible." Yet she couldn't usefully guess at spacefaring enemies' methods, much less capabilities. I know not even what Venla's people can do! - if only she had an advisor - her proud grin was wide this time, but quickly replaced with a respectfully sober expression.

I need only ask Venla! She is the expert. "Has anything like this happened? Why? If your people wished to worsen the Xo'Lokako's attitude towards each other, NOT that you would, could you? How? Is there similar information which we might find useful?" Am I forgetting anything? Rmwtyliin glanced at her pad - the possibility of fighting them was of concern. "Additionally, could protection from their claws and weapons which harms none be provided? Perhaps unbelievably good armor which can be hidden? It could prevent your needing to attack them to defend us, hence it could save lives. I too believe that to be worthwhile."

Dining Room

Venla glanced at Rwm, mostly due to her question about the level of danger. "Hopefully not too much, but if we're found out it might be dangerous only due to numbers. The Xo'Lokako breed rapidly and have massive numbers. They may not be a hive mind like other insect races but they're strong and determined when their minds get set on something. My plan was to go to some of their more multicultural cities, which hopefully would be feeling these effects less so, and figure out if there's something affecting multiple locations regardless of where they are on the globe, one common denominator. If we can eliminate it while there we would attempt to, or at the least report it to my superiors so we can rectify the issues. "

She then glanced over to Romulus, addressing some of the things he said. The issue of Rwm was not up to the alien to decide anyway, it was an issue between the Princess and the General. "I have no idea if it has to do with these devourers, though some of our other xenologists believe the loss of credibility and collapse of their species could lead to a war with one of the nations we border. Another insectoid race who believes they should have been the ones with dominion over the planet. Its on the border of our territories, in an area previously thought uninhabitable until we discovered this planet. This nation claims the Xo'lokako are a cousin race to theirs, the religious nuts in charge do at least. They've always hated our lack of care for spiritual matters, and many think the death of that species may be enough for them to declare war along with their alliance, even if it'd be a flimsy excuse.

"And my working hypothesis was that someone might be trying to change them to discredit us. With their rapid breeding rate a genetic reason could be likely, but we haven't the authorization to take genetic samples purposefully. At least I didn't think to request that before I left. I'm mostly thinking it could be something cultural, rather than biological. Its possible that tensions are simply rising between the different nations and empires and a collapse is imminent regardless, before a transition to a new era of their history. Its a common thing we've noticed, though usually caused by mass migration rather than this."

Venla sighed, flicking a few buttons on the tablet to change the map to one showing the various polities and nations of the world, color coded with a floating legend off to one side, though it was in Huvidu-Zaan. "Oh, let me fix that." She tapped a few buttons and it redid itself in something close to English. The list was rearranged too, to be in alphabetical order for English. A few more button taps and a few cities were highlighted in bright dots, six places, two on each of the major continents and most at intersections of large nations except one, the capital of a nation named The Holy Union of Qri-Tal. It covered most of one of the continents in a deep red color, a symbol for their nation floating over the name seemed strange, two concentric circles with a line horizontally through it all.

"Qri-tal used to be a small little nation, a trading republic with enough influence to consider their language the trade language for this continent and the outlying islands. Last few generations its become an aggressive, religious empire trying to conquer all the land they can. Their shift from a society similar to our own to what they are now is what tipped us off to the issue going on. Most their continent is desolated by these wars, whole cities burned and destroyed and a few cultures wiped out. Its the most extreme example and probably the last stop. If there's anything from off-world causing this its likely to be strongest here, Whatever it is. The religion itself seems benign from our records on it, which makes it very odd they're conquering in its name. The few other cities I can brief you all who decide to come with when we arrive, as they'll be less dangerous. I was saving this one for last as its the most likely to become violent by far."

Though there was the question of protection. Venla paused for a moment, thinking. "We do have armor, though its bulky and not much is made for human sized beings. If there's any on station I can provide some. But translators and disguises are vital to the mission, as are picking up on the behaviors that seem to be common among their race. They tend to twitch around a lot, and as such the holo-disguise does so do when in that form. It should also mimic expressions and body language from your own to the equivalent, so it would be a good idea to practice a bit with someone else to get used to recognizing those. The translator will convert your speech into their language, and their language into something you can understand.

"Though it will be very dangerous, if we aren't careful. Most of them aren't much of a threat to a Huvidu-Zaan like myself. They're smaller and our healing speed makes it hard for them to cause permanent damage. Humans though are at a higher risk. As long as you get back in mostly one piece our doctors should be able to patch you back together with our technology. Just don't lose heads or vital organs. And I have noticed some people here do seem to have abnormal abilities. Keep those in reserve, we don't need to be starting religions while we're here, or becoming demons to the locals. Just wouldn't be good in general. Same with killing too many locals. Best sort of alien infiltration missions are quick and clean, with as little disturbance as possible. So especially no killing any leaders unless they're involved."

"Um... what exactly is going on? I didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on, but I've only been at this apartment for a day. Is there something I should be doing, or..." Nathan looked around expectantly for a response.

Venla then blinked, glancing over at the human who seemed confused. She grumbled softly, shoulders slumping a tiny bit with a shake of her head. A bit of disapproval and a sigh, most likely. "Well, to sum up what I've been saying. This alien race is likely to kill itself if my people don't do something to intervene. It could have been caused by some offworld reason, or not. If this isn't solved it could lead to a greater war with our neighbors, one my people would struggle to fight on numbers alone. We may be built for war but we're low in number compared to our rivals. Our only real ally is the Human Federation of Planets. The plan is to investigate six cities around their world to see if there's any correlation between them all, any constant that could indicate something we could change. Make sense, human?" She asked, the imposing bear-otter alien blinking at him slowly with an unreadable expression. At least he was speaking up now, though.

[Ganonsyoni]

Kale rolled off the stack of bodies formed by herself, Katya, and Sakarias, slumping on the floor. Her body stinged with pain and her mind raced to figure out just what had happened. She was with Katya and the other two in the desert wasteland of Sakarias's world, then she felt a tingle of electricity on the surface of her skin. Then, this happened and pain stung her gut and the rest of her. Her eyes darted around, trying to figure out where they were. It looked, familiar, like she was here before. No way... she was in the Rec Room, back in the Building. All four of them were back here. They were "warped" or something back here. How did this happen?

Her arms clung to her gut tightly, the pain most intense there. It felt like the whole thing was twisted up and turned upside down. The pain in the rest of her body eased up but the pain in her gut still held on. Whatever this warping was, it hurt like hell.

She slowly got up to her knees, then up on her feet. Katya was up as well and miserable. Kale felt miserable too, a visible frown upon her face. And not just from the pain. The mission being cut off just like that, and with no input from any of them. It felt like the whole thing was pointless. A waste of time. They didn't even do anything. All they did was get a beaten up rifle, some shitty geiger counters, and cheap alcohol.

She walked over to the disheveled duffel bag, still clutching her stomach, and looked in it. Most of the stuff was still inside it. She dug through the bag and grabbed one of the bottles of liquor, sloshing the contents inside it around. "The product of our 'mission'," she thought to herself, angered by the nothingness they accomplished. A thought crossed her mind about smashing the bottle to pieces against the floor, though she suppressed it. It would feel good to smash something, let the anger out, but it would do nothing at all to solve anything. It wouldn't warp them back or even take them back in time. What's done is done. No need to make a mess. She stashed the bottle back and picked the beaten up bag up. Even if was seemingly useless, it was still stuff they brought back that could have some use.

Just like Katya, Kale left the rec room. But she had a different destination in mind. The dining room. Her gut was in pain, but it was also empty. She hadn't had a good meal since they started their mission. She knew the kitchen was stocked up on fresh vegetables and fruits from the hydroponics garden, she made sure of that. She could fix herself a hearty meal.

By the time she got to the dining room, her stomach pain subsided greatly and was now softly grumbling. Her mind was thinking more about carrots, tomatoes and beans than the failed mission. But she stopped before entering, hearing voices from the room. But not just voices; conversation, planning. It wasn't a regular get together, something was going on. She pressed her ear against the door and listened in, trying to figure out what was going on without interrupting things. She could recognize most voices except two. She assumed new arrivals though one sounded more unknown to her than the other. Luckily for her one of the voices gave a quick summary of the whole conversation.

"Another mission huh?" Kale thought to herself. The bitterness from being warped out of the last one still stayed with her. Would going on another and completing it successfully bring that feeling of defeat away? And more importantly, bring more substantial benefits to the Resident's own mission? And plus, a planet like that would have all sorts of different plant life to examine and places to explore! The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to go. "Why not, the garden will be fine," she thought, smirking a bit after convincing herself to give missions another try.

She opened the door to the dining room and entered. She looked around the table, spotting people she knew and didn't know. She stopped on Venla, her appearance still surprising the girl. She knew of all sorts of sapient beings, but Venla was the most "alien" looking. But Kale knew she would get used to her appearance soon enough, especially if she was working with her. She took her eyes off her and looked to the unrecognized man at the table. So this was the other voice she heard. He looked like a normal 'european' man. He must have arrived after Venla, because she didn't see him at the Gatehouse. But she would get to know him regardless.

"Hello," she said to the group, walking up to the table, "I heard about some plans through the dining room door about investigating a species for aggressive behavior. I just wanna say I wanna go on this mission and help." She said all this with an eager grin on her face.

[Chadacian]

The Arrival

It took all of his mental fortitude to ignore the ringing in his head as he tried to concentrate on the voices that were speaking. Opening his eyes slightly he took in the form of what appeared to be a large humanoid that wasn't quite human. It looked to have ridges in it's forehead and the complexity of it's form scared him. Where in the world am I? He closed his eyes again as a sharp pain spiked in his head, it was the mother of all headaches. Finally after a few moments to compose himself, he responded without looking at the source of the voice,"Yes thank you, I seem to be alright." As he found the energy within himself to stand, he continued to replay the previous events in his mind as he tried to deduce how he had arrived here. Nothing in him could quite get over the fact that wherever he was meant that he was not with his mother, he concluded that his rebellion had failed and now the Emperor has sent his own genetically modified servants to do his bidding.

His robes which were gold with white trimming stuck to him as if they were soaked. He let out a soft groan as his headache grew worse, he stood up slowly has he picked up Cometfell. Once he reached his full height he found that all of his belongings weighed him down, with the swords on his back and the Arcanum. He dropped to one knee to support himself better.

With his head still ringing he looked over the group that was before him, they seemed to be observing him. But not in the type of way an interrogator or torturer would observe their victim. Then again, Clemence could feel it. Something wasn't right about this place, he definitely was not dreaming but he could not put his finger on it. He wasn't in Miavenise and he definitely wasn't in Morvania. While the wisps of magic here were exceptionally strong, it just didn't feel like he was anywhere near home. The being that initially addressed him, something was wrong with one of his eyes. It all confused him. But he figured it would be best to greet these people politely, especially if he wanted any real chance to get back home.

Dipping his head to show humility," Clemence Peregrine Ambrose the Younger, Crown Prince of Miavenise at your service." Looking to see if his words had an affect on the strangers, Clemence continued,"Sorry to intrude, but I assure you I mean no harm. I only wish to know where I am."

[Primordial Luxa]

RAIDERS of the LOST BOOK

OPERATION: BIBLIOPHILE
DIMENSION: Gallimaufry then 257P
LOCATION: Plotline All-Stops to Alexandria, Egypt
TEAMS: MU
RotLB


Primordial was intrigued by Boris’s requests. He had said the package could “die”, which obviously implied they might be transporting something living. How exciting he thought as he tried to sit in the truck without pressing against Nick in an uncomfortable way. Whatever package they were moving seemed to be highly fragile and the Baron piped up saying, “Perhaps it would be best if I used my kinetic manipulation to hold our package? It would allow me to keep it facing the right way at all times unless something severely broke my concentration.” As an example he let go of his cane and allowed it to remain suspended in the air as a small magic trick.

As he explained his plan he looked out at the group that Boris was dealing with an got the feeling that they were more connected to the city government than he had expected. He had expected typical mobsters like they had back in Luxa, people more interested in making a buck off a bad habit or loans. But mostly crime in Luxa specialized in getting Luxan items out of the country to places they sold for insane prices. These however sounded like members of the army or police who were trying to make a little money under the table. Primordial didn’t care much about their exact background and focused on locating some weak points in case a fight did break out.

[Northwest Slobovia]

Ascalon, the Littles

Amanda led the group across the street they'd been on -- there was little traffic this time of day -- and across the shopping street. The latter was full of pedestrians, not a car or truck in sight. Her phone tweedled and chimed as she was crossing, but she waited for everybody to arrive on her corner before checking her messages, and speaking to nobody in particular. "Huh, I wonder what Sandy's bought."

She looked up again, pointing up and down the length of the shopping street. "The Littles bowed to practicality: too many students shop on this street to accomodate both them and cars, so they gave up, and closed the street to vehicles between the end of rush hour and sunset."

Inside Gold Star Market, the group found the aisles packed, with other people's shopping baskets poking into their backs and carts barking their shins. Not all the other shoppers were human, and some of the humans seemed too old to be students. Amanda's only comment as she threaded her way through the swarm was, "Like I said, this the closest you'll find to a supermarket this close to UGA... and everybody knows it."

Stock clerks hustled to keep goods on the shelves, so despite the crowds, there was enough for shoppers to buy.

[Fvaarniimar]

Kale's entrance was a welcome break from trying to parse the map and not flinch at the aptly-colored empire. Smiling warmly at her friend, Rmwtyliin scooted her chair towards Venla. "There is room, Kale..." Already she felt a little safer, even if the mage's abilities were to be a last resort...Or would that be necessary? How discreet can Kale be? Probably not very. Her plants are big and obvious.

The mission itself seemed reassuringly tame compared to her imaginings. Visit six cities, try to understand what had changed - If I cannot handle this, I should stop styling myself Naaliasz! She suppressed a relieved laugh and continued with a smile, glancing down at her notepad. Kale would likely have the best view of the notepad and its curvy yet somehow geometric script, as Rmwtyliin was turning towards Venla...

A rather large possible loophole in the genetics restriction had become apparent - a few, in fact, but faking an accident seemed foolish. This would need to be phrased very carefully - an even riskier prospect when translators were involved - as Venla was not authorized to take whatever it was. Likely that lack of authorization extended to delegating the task or approving another's plan to take the information. After each part, she paused to run through the next as Duncan translated. "If a person other than you, Venla." "Took such information." "If they chose that alone." "Or for Demens' benefit." "Is there anyone who would be upset?" Done half a phrase at a time, the pauses between translated sections were short enough to be interpreted as the young woman merely catching her breath, were she not speaking.

"This mission is not Rahmmiheeoolllahs', Venlah. It is yours. Nevertheless, Mistduur Rahmmmiheeoollahs, if you prefer I could carry some blunted and padded weapon - a staff or bow, perhaps... Or is it my age which worries you? Know, Rahmmmiheeoollahs, that I am older than I look." Of course, that was because the small, soft-faced girl could have passed for ten or eleven with little effort - a tween as opposed to a young teen. "How do you want me to prove my ability to do this?" She bit back with some difficulty a suggestion that HE prove his ability to, ah, act diplomatically, and a mutter about how little he seemed to care. "I have a lot of confidence that I can visit a few settlements with similar...lack of huge advantages to Fvaarniimar and similar time to Fvaarniimar. These people are from a period like my own, I think."

Another concern occurred to her. "We certainly must blend in in Qritahl! I worry the delay between my words and Duncan's could cause suspicion, and if I need two translators the meaning and intent of what I say can be lost in translation. Regarding our group as a whole, unrelated people rarely travel as groups. Is that true in Qritahl? We may need an excuse to associate."

RAIDERS of the LOST BOOK

OPERATION: BIBLIOPHILE
DIMENSION: Gallimaufry then 257P
LOCATION: Plotline All-Stops to Alexandria, Egypt
TEAMS: MU
RotLB

<We're a ragtag bunch of misfits, and we're (baritone) THE JUDGE'S MEN.> Ah, the hazards of adventuring with nerds. The cat had taken a liking to the description, and Primordial had found first a "poster" and then a "trailer" in his mind's eye. The former was a fair rendering of the group, mostly dark gray with odd pops of color and Sandy's fireworks, while the latter, which had just ended, seemed to consist of running and cinematic explosions. It was neither however terribly distracting, nor easy to watch unless that was what on was focusing on. At most, it could result in imagined things turning into mélanges of thoughts...

<- living, really...Oh.> The feedback loop of excitement which had gotten going suddenly was replaced by sheepishness, and just as quickly restarted by the levitating cane. <Cool! That's a good idea...except...> "What if that makes it easy to target? We're protecting the tube, probably against -" <I know what the other glass stuff is for!> "It's hiding the tube." An image of a needle in a haystack quickly became a needle in a jar of needles. Curiosity spiked. <What or who are they hiding? The mob?? Seriously? What have we gotten ourselves into...> He wasn't scared yet, however, just quite attentive to the surroundings.

[Northwest Slobovia]

RAIDERS of the LOST BOOK

OPERATION: BIBLIOPHILE
DIMENSION: Gallimaufry then 257P
LOCATION: Plotline All-Stops to Alexandria, Egypt
TEAMS: MU
RotLB

"Da," Boris raised the bottle for the fat man to read, "The wizard, he moves product. Good shit."

Sandy shot Boris a dirty look. He wanted nothing to do with the mob, not even by association. He'd have words with Boris later: he should have asked before trying to pass them off as thugs.

"Captain Marshall Reigger, at your service. Do you know about route and package?"

Sandy shook his head, frowning. "I can't say Boris gave us much to work with on those fronts. But we've been up towards Alessio before, recovering... uh, items from a tower. I'm not sure you can see it from your route, though. The area's volcanic, and... the opposition likely includes dragons along with other large beasts. That's what we know about it."

After a moment's pause, an afterthought. "I'm Sandy Bela; glad to meet you. And we... we're not the Judge's employees. We're the ones he wants, because we can get the job done." He flashed a confident smile. Si fueris Romae... and when you're in the wrong part of Philly, roll as the gangbangers do.

[Stormwrath]

Swinging a Blade For Dummies

Dust, dust, dust. There was dust everywhere. On the sofa, on the desk, on the table, on the bed, dust. There was also quite a lot of stuff that was overfilling her closet, stuff that was acquired during missions beyond the Gate and all around Gallimaufry. The teddy bear from the carnival was lying unceremoniously on top of the alarm clock by her bedside, teetering a couple of inches from falling to the floor. Papers were all over her study and her chair in a messy pile, and her shelf was increasingly filling with useless trinkets. Plus there were some unused cardboard boxes stacked next to her closet.

But have no fear, Macy's here!

It had taken her much of the morning for her to tidy up her bedroom, with several dust clouds floating in the air thanks to her feather duster. Yes, the study, the closet, the shelf, and the bed were all tidied up, and her teddy bear was placed with the esteemed position of sitting in the middle of her bed, but now there were particles everywhere. The vacuum cleaner seemed to have been forgotten until the clouds got out of hand and she began using it to suck it all from the air. She should've used the vacuum before the feather duster, she thought to herself.

Okay, now you can fear.

The clouds got out of hand so much that she had to open the door to her living room, which was a lot cleaner than her room was before the dust flew in and collected on her TV and her table. She continued to vacuum the place until there was little dust left, going through the nooks and crannies of everything before she was done. Wait a minute, did the sword have a smudge on it before? She took a piece of cloth and rubbed the blade until she could see her reflection clearly, carefully avoiding getting her skin cut by its edge. There, good as new.

She stood back and just stared at the rustic dwarven blade, forged from the smiths of Hammerfall. It boasted of a large and broad blade that resembled a giant cutter, with a handle moderately decorated with geometric shapes. The blade itself was engraved with notches that ran across its length. Her sword served quite well as a cool house decoration, but the android felt it can't just hang on the wall forever. She had to use it one day. Hey! Why not now?

Putting a hold to her cleaning effort, she put the vacuum cleaner on the table and got on the sofa, taking the sword off of the wall. The handle fit neatly in her hands, and she held the sword with the tip pointed up. It certainly looked cool to hold—she felt like a warrior! She slowly swung the blade left and right, imitating the swordsmen and swordswomen she knew of in the Building. With each swing of the blade was accompanied high-pitched shouts, but she didn't care if someone were to walk into her room and discover she was making weird noises all day. It's fun. People do it all the time, right? The swinging became quicker and less predictable, and she felt like she was getting the hang of it. Was swordsmanship this easy? However she took and upward swing and forced the blade downwards, accidentally penetrating the table.

Macy exclaimed as she felt the blade cut something, gasping again as she found out it was stuck in the woodwork of her table. She tried to pull it out with all of her might, but it didn't seem to budge. She tried again, putting her left foot on the table and pulling the sword again. This time it worked, but it sent her falling with her back on the floor and the blade a few inches from cutting into her sofa. "Oh god," she got back up and examined the table, biting her finger when she saw how much the blade cut into the table. "Oh nononononooo... I should probably get someone to fix this..."

At least the table wasn't sliced so much that it would unceremoniously split in half and ruin her day.

More importantly, she should probably ask someone to teach her the ways of the swordsman—I mean woman—I mean swordswoman. And the Building had a lot of Residents that are proficient at swinging them around in combat, or at least in fencing with a straw man. But who would she want to be taught under, and where would they be right now? Probably they were in the recreation room, listening to the occasional piano player play a ragtime piece or sulking in boredom. You know, one of the two. Returning her sword on the wall, she went out of her room and down the stairs, heading to look for a couple that were there.

Katya's here? Perfect! Macy knew that she was a good-if-not-great-if-not-awesome swordswoman, and she seemed to have a technique that the android admired. But does she have the time to tutor her? "Oh good, you're here!" she approached her. "Can you teach me how to use a sword, Katya? Please?"

[Torsiedelle]

T'was no ragtime piece, though the slow, sorrowful playing to the tune of Beethoven's Piano Sonata Number Fourteen was nonetheless music. The player? Katya Dimitrov, who in all of her years playing piano had hardly played the piece, though it was one of her favorites; she loved sad music, and Moonlight Sonata had that certain air to it, while also being hopeful.

She was playing to let out her own frustration; she was bent out of shape...at least she had showered and changed into a fresh outfit, essentially the same item (she had considered updating her wardrobe, but her old school uniform suited her well, she though.); her sword was sitting against the piano, a dirty cloth atop it, from where she had cleaned it, along with her grandfather's jackboots, which sat beside the blade.

But her playing came to a halt. Someone was calling her! Her fingers lifted up, and she swung around on her seat in response. Her deep blue eyes scanned over the android girl, and she smiled. "A sword? What's this about?", She asked the woman. She didn't know Macy well, if at all, but the girl seemed nice, and nobody had ever asked her to each them to fight. How could she pass the opportunity up? "I'm proficient in rapiers and sabers...but I'll see what I can do for you.", She said. "What makes you want to learn to swordfight, may I ask?"

[Swith Witherward]

THE ARRIVAL

"Brother Marcus Usseio, Hieromonk of the Order of the Caeleste Observatorio Bielefeld, at yours," Marcus politely replied. The rabbit perched atop the young cyborg's head swayed as he bowed in kind.

Relief spread through the priest. Some Gatejumpers panicked upon arrival. Others were spiritually and emotionally crushed. Clemence displayed a quiet dignity - something the Building sorely lacked - that could perhaps be attributed to his status as a prince. But no, there was a humble air to him, one that bespoke of solid experience... one that reminded him of his own father's approach to difficult challenges. Clemence wasn't a greasy politician; he came across as a political emissary. The cyborg took a liking to him at once.

"The person beside me is Mezran, Son of Jag'oth, of the House of StoH'raQ. His people, the Klingons, also hail from a different dimension. The girl in the chair is Miss Myra Bones, the Oracle of the Floating Void." He gently plucked MB from his head and settled him onto his own shoulder, "And this is MB, an uncommonly intelligent rabbit that communicates with his ears."

Sincere concern pinched Marcus' eyebrow towards his optic's metal housing as he paused. The last thing the new arrival needed was too much information. He folded his hands in front of him and mentally sorted out the things that he, himself, would want to know in such a situation.

"You've been called by Demens, a being more powerful than a god. You possess some talent or skill that can help save the universe. That sounds incredibly corny, sure. But it's the truth. Demens only grabs people moments before death. You are Chosen."

His hand swept towards the door. "You've arrived at the Floating Void Gatehouse. And this entire dimension is called Gallimaufry. The planet we are on is Gallimaufry Mundi. It's a short sail from here to Demens' Building, the place where the Chosen reside."

Ah, horrible questions were bound to come soon. Marcus thought it best to get the unpleasant stuff out of the way quickly. "I don't know what happened after you left wherever you were moments ago. I don't know if those with you also perished, or if Demens extended his divine hand to take them to safety. But it's my terrible duty... well, for a while, you're stuck here with us. I'm sorry. I know that doesn't relieve any of your worries. But we won't let you fall or treat you poorly. You're among friends, Clemence Peregrine Ambrose."

[Mincaldenteans]

THE ARRIVAL

The boy's introduction was a boon. Mezran simply didn't have the skill for diplomacy and his tolerance was only as good as his patience today. While selected for the retrieval, Mezran had really wanted to hack into a Jem'Hadar in the holodeck on the 5th level. Instead, he agreed to the mission and avoided any conversation in hopes for a speedy mission. It couldn't get as speedy as spitting the human through the dimensions and for that Mezran was grateful their task had ended as quickly as it began. Now it was a matter if their new Resident could adjust instead of panic. If the man did go on a tirade, the Klingon resolved a headbutt to knock him unconscious would do the trick and the rest of the Residents could coddle the human.

With the pleasantries out of the way, Mezran growled at the mage, baring his jagged yellow-brown teeth as his 'hello'. Klingons, always full of grace. He visibly scanned the man with sharp eyes, noting the staff, the man's attire and could only surmise he was some kind of religious whelp instead of a warrior persona he was used to seeing. And if that was the case, perhaps the human held more than met the eye and the Klingon's bared teeth transformed slightly into a grimace (if one could notice the difference), automatically thinking the man full of tricks and 'magic'.

Bah, another one with abilities beyond explanation, he thought to himself. The captain had long ago, since Demen's little visit, classified every resident accordingly into two categories: physical or preternatural. As far as he knew and observed, some filled those ranks easily, and others had the unfortunate annoying existence of making those categories blur; he had managed however and knew their value and importance according to the teams that were currently assembled. Eyeing the away team, he turned away from them as he sheathed his mek'leth back into its curved scabbard. It was time to get back.

"We will see," Mezran said gruffly against Marcus' reassurances. His communicator was repaired some time ago and worked better than the previous version. While he was aware Demens Chose his residents for reasons beyond his own understanding, his Klingon upbringing had a natural inclination to distrust the god. Demens may have thought Clemence useful, but it was ultimately on the Residents to gauge that and -more importantly- for Clemence to prove himself.

"You have questions, and we will answer them soon enough. For now, you will follow us," Mezran declared. It was neither an offer or a choice.

[Fraire]

Venla then blinked, glancing over at the human who seemed confused. She grumbled softly, shoulders slumping a tiny bit with a shake of her head. A bit of disapproval and a sigh, most likely. "Well, to sum up what I've been saying. This alien race is likely to kill itself if my people don't do something to intervene. It could have been caused by some offworld reason, or not. If this isn't solved it could lead to a greater war with our neighbors, one my people would struggle to fight on numbers alone. We may be built for war but we're low in number compared to our rivals. Our only real ally is the Human Federation of Planets. The plan is to investigate six cities around their world to see if there's any correlation between them all, any constant that could indicate something we could change. Make sense, human?" She asked, the imposing bear-otter alien blinking at him slowly with an unreadable expression. At least he was speaking up now, though.

Dining Room
Nathan stared, mouth agape, for several seconds. He slowly blinked his eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay, well, I didn't...well I understand anyway. I guess I'm, uh, up for whatever. All out war, invasion, whatever." Nathan didn't really mean that. He had just barely started to get comfortable and already he was about to partake in some mission to an alien planet.

Then, Nathan remembered back to when he first came through the gate. That weird squid-alien had said something about him being the chosen one, or at least important, hadn't he? Maybe this was what he had meant.

Nathan looked at the map that he, for some reason, hadn't bothered to pay a lot of attention to before. It appeared to be of the alien planet. Whatever was going to happen next, it would be serious business. But Nathan was up for it.

[Tiltjuice]

THE ARRIVAL

MB chuffed at nothing in particular as he eyed Mezran putting away the mek'leth. The time in Marcus' section of the lab had whetted his appetite and he was on the search for something a bit more exotic. Knowing Demens, the 'search for something more exotic' had gotten interpreted rather more liberally than the rabbit intended. So here he was, watching and wondering where this newcomer would fit in among the other Residents. For his own part (and Cuisine's), there were already ideas bubbling up.

He turned an ear this way and that, air-writing a cheery 'HELLO!!! Welcome to the Building!' in letters the color of pine needles, as he thought. Another swordsman. Possibly the blacksmith in the village would have more visitors soon? Cuisine had busied himself with requesting a repair to the silver tray, after the last incident involving a cheese wheel, a bucket of sporks, a Segway and a soldering iron. Sitting back on his haunches, he cocked his head.

Robes Man need water? Stingwater? Ace? MB queried, meaning alcohol and Tylenol. He'd seen enough partying to guess at a hangover headache, and knew the easiest ways to deal with it; but couldn't be bothered spelling out the whole name, or learning every single medication. So it went.

RAIDERS of the LOST BOOK

OPERATION: BIBLIOPHILE
DIMENSION: Gallimaufry then 257P
LOCATION: Plotline All-Stops to Alexandria, Egypt
TEAMS: MU
RotLB

Dora raised an eyebrow at Boris' comments, but didn't object. For now, she considered it useful to be thought of as having an Organization at her back, when dealing with possibly less legitimate people; what happened afterward would be faced in its own context. Her expression darkened slightly in concern at Sandy's unspoken distaste, but Reigger didn't appear to have caught it, and she thanked Fate for that with a hasty series of mouthed prayers.

She turned back toward the rotund, armored man, carefully looking over his exoskeleton and the tank. Feeling most in place as one of the scouts for the group (if Nick considered himself such as well), she figured she'd at least try to keep an eye out for the Baron to do any heavy hitting required.

[Stormwrath]

Swordplay For Dummies

Katya seemed happy to teach her swordplay, and she was glad. Macy didn't know that she was this easy to ask—she must've tutored people on it before. Maybe she even tutored other Residents before, who knows. Maybe it wasn't a wonder that some of them knew how to fight with swords now.

"Well," she began to explain, "I want to use my sword for what it is, not as some kind of house decoration. Plus, you know how many of the missions are, right? So I also want to learn how to defend myself and others with it. Speaking of which, want to see what it looks like?"

The two went up the stairs and down the hall to Macy's room. Macy opened the door and let Katya enter the room first. Everything was where Macy had left them—the vacuum cleaner on the accidentally cut table, the sofa, the TV, and that's basically it really—unless Katya accidentally finds the door to her bedroom. And there hanging on the wall in all of its glory was the rustic dwarven blade, certainly not a rapier nor a saber. The robot got up on the sofa and retrieved the sword. "So what do you think?" she bent her head down to look at it extending from her hand.

[Torsiedelle]

Swordplay for Dummies

Katya was more off-put by the decor of Macy's apartment than anything at first. It was way more fancy and modern than her own apartment, and she fancied herself the rich girl of the building! Then again, it was part of the charm of her home, being humble, and it was how Torii and her had liked it. They liked the little pit in the front door they had wanted at first, but even that had been taken back; the apartment had remained unchanged for years. It was a shock sometimes to see how radically different others' rooms were.

Her attention fell on the cut table, and she raised an eyebrow. Had she been playing with it? She followed along through the apartment and stood patiently until the girl has pointed out her own blade.

Katya marveled at it. "It's an exquisite weapon.", She commented. "Very well made, I'd say, though it really is no saber or rapier. I've never handled a broadsword myself, but...I'll see what I can do for you.", She said. "I might know some basic movements and practices for you. If you're feeling brave enough, we could even have a sparring match.", She added, a hint of madness and excitement in her eye. It was there that it would be shown that, for as reserved as she was most of the time, Katya did have a dangerous side. She got a thrill out of a good sword fight.

[Stormwrath]

Swordplay For Dummies

Macy was a bit intimidated at the mention of 'sparring match'. Slicing and dicing a straw man out in the rolling hills of the Gallimaufry countryside would be more preferable than going against Katya sword-to-sword. She can't match her yet in terms of finesse and technique, and it would require her some practice to do that. No, not some practice, lots and lots of practice—especially with a large sword like hers. Speaking of practice...

"I think I'll have to practice a lot first before I want to spar you," she rubbed her scalp, bashfully smiling like a dork. Looking around she added, "Though I can't practice here, lest I cut into something, hehe. Where do you usually train?"

It would be great to see where Katya had designated as her personal swordplay practice area. Perhaps it was an empty room somewhere in the Building, maybe it was outside of the Building, or maybe it was near the chicken coop built a few months back. Or maybe it was the roof—few people would show up there at this part of the day, right?

[Torsiedelle]

Swordplay For Dummies

"Me?", Katya repeated. "I haven't practice in some time, to be honest, though I used to enjoy sparring in the residence of Mr. Thriller. He was an emperor, of course, but I haven't seen him in some time.", She said.

"Perhaps practice outdoors would be best. After all, we don't want to rick causing further damage or hurting anyone, do we?", She asked rhetorically. "And the outdoors are rather lovely this time of year. Perhaps by the pool? Make it a sword and swim party? I haven't tried on my bikini in a while...although I prefer topless tanning anyways.", She trailed off. "Oh, but forgive me! I tend to ramble on! But yes, as I said, outdoors would be perfect! We can erect a dummy, use trees, fences, whatever we can get our hands on! What is there to loose?"

[Stormwrath]

Swordplay For Dummies

Hmmm, Mr. Thriller... She hadn't met the guy before, he seemed like a level-headed person, letting Katya practice swordplay and break some of his things in his room by accident.

And indeed it was great outside. Heck, the sun was shining out of her window, illuminating the apartment with its radiance. But the pool? The android didn't think it was a good idea—it wasn't one at all. While Macy did take steps to get herself to be completely waterproof, even going as far as asking the tech priests to work their sorcery, she was still very much afraid of water getting into her system. Also, she was rather uncomfortable wearing her bikini, even though it would actually look good on her if she tried. She wouldn't know—she hadn't tried it on yet, but she bought it since her fellow Residents thought it would look great on her.

And t-t-t-t-topless tanning? Isn't that taking it a bit too far?

"Yeah, that's a great idea!" she lied. Though the mention of dummies, trees, and fences that they would use made her ask with a smile, "Y-you're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

[Torsiedelle]

Swordplay for Dummies

Katya frowned. "What do you mean? Am I overdoing it?", She asked. "Forgive me if I seem animated. I've never been asked to train anyone, and I'm eager to get out more. If you want to slow down or train some way else, I'd be happy to oblige."

She patted her own rapier, hanging from her hip. "I always look forward to using my sword, too."