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

[The BranRiech]

Drova

It was true. The Obsidian statue of Chrys, clad in a set of Roman armor, still stood in Drova's apartment in the building. He still admired the strong figure depicted, and took a few seconds to look at it almost every time he passed it.

"Wouldn't call it that..." He spoke, voice low.

At least Paper-Yuna wasn't going to let that one slip, the real Yuna's never let him hear the end of it that he fancied Chrys. He hadn't even really met the woman, other than finding her figure rather pleasing to the eye when he did see her. "Gods... I got that statue so long ago, still have it." He admitted. Nothing else he could come up with in his head would sound better. Any other comments would just be digging him deeper and deeper.

His hand shot up to his face, removing a few errant strands that had fallen down, obstructing his vision with little white lines.

Drova's smile had lingered thus far. He was at least starting to feel better in the moment, though he suspected that having a glimpse of his sister was the main reason his mood seemed brighter. The cold greeting he recieved from Nick's cutout was a little more humbling, and did well to bring him back down to reality. Of course some people weren't going to look at him too positively, but still... Considering Drova had even spent the first few minutes after Torii's death blaming himself for it, it was still a humbling shock that maybe someone else would too.

[Cerillium]

TIKI BAR

The naked mole rat quietly waited for the warrior to process his words. These things were never easy. Modern people might shiver and cry but, to men such as Hectaros, family was strength and purpose. A depth existed to the relationships, one made shallow as technology progressed and you no longer needed to rely as much upon the person next to you.

"Your brother and your family are in the past," it offered as kindly an expression as such a creature could make. "Do not fear for them. You will see them again, if we win. And you will take back with you skills and knowledge that will aid your people in their efforts." The rat scampered down Volker's sleeve and onto clip board resting on the bar top. "This is your lease. They've done it up in your native tongue. I am Hablarrata. I was created to teach you the common tongue. Never fear. I hear some Residents are breeding Bablefish back home. Those will make things less complicated." The rat ran a paw through his whiskers. "May I sit on your shoulder?"

Two new arrivals made their way into the Tiki bar. They'd find the warrior speaking with the polyglot rodent, though the language was foreign in their ears. Volker trusted in Demens' ways, and saw no reason to interrupt Habby's work.

"Johnathan Montressor and Flannery of Carim, right on schedule," the front desk cultist smiled as he held two more clipboards aloft (one of them containing a lease in braille). "Welcome. You have both been brought here by Mr Demens, a potent Being, in order to help save the Cosmos. Each of you has a power or ability that will aid us in that quest. You can, of course, refuse. We will send you back to the moment of your death, free of charge. Or you can remain as Residents and join us in our efforts." He placed the clipboards on the bar, out of the way of the rat and warrior's path. "A standard lease which allows you to take up Residency with us."

Montressor's gift, should he use it, immediately told him the rat thing on the bar was Eldritch in nature, though nothing like the Ones back home. Volker and the warrior appeared perfectly normal, however.

[Torsiedelle]

"Death? Saving worlds? I...don't follow."

The blind girl felt for paper as prompted, but...oh, braille. That would do. Still, why would a blind person be needed for world saving? What were they fighting?

Fingers felt over the form, feeling the bumps in the paper as Flan nodded along, seemingly staring off into space. The scene before her was bizarre, and we was not entirely certain how to take it.

On the other hand, the man behind her was more curious than anything. The little rat thing spoke! It was unusual. The men with papers were unusual as well, although he dealt in a trade that often meant dealing with strange men pushing strange papers with strange messages, so that part was less strange than anything.

The ocean behind him was interesting. The beach itself was interesting. Just what had he gotten himself into here? What an odd departure from where he had just been.

"Sounds dandy.", He said. He pulled out the pen on the clipboard, giving it a twirl between his fingers, and scribbled his signature. It was probably a bad idea, but at least he wasn't being murdered.

"H-how do you know our names?", Flan asked, before being met with a clearing of Montressor's throat. "Seems like whoever wanted you here did their homework, I'd say. By the way, can you right?"

The girl shrugged.

[Chedastan]

The paper General simply smiled at Nila, purely amused at her response to get festive. He now wasn't sure if now was the time to tell her though, but she did said that she'll listen to what he had to say. But her response clearly shown she was probably thinking of something else, maybe? She always seemed fickle to him, but it was always in good natured from what he could tell. He knew he ought to tell her now, or sooner rather than later, it was only her right that she knew how he felt about her.

His throat oddly felt dry, how could that be? He was paper! Maybe he should drink some more first, if only to at least pretend to be drunk. "I know how we can start getting festive actually, maybe we could have a few drinks first, if only just for the thought of it really. I'm made of paper, there's no way I can get drunk off anything." He then tired to cheerfully suggest to both Nila and Macy, gesturing towards the bar.

[Monfrox]

"Why are we burying the food? Wouldn't it be easier to just let it sit out?" Brit asked, sitting the plate in the hole and getting more around the edges out. She was trying to bring the topic back to the current situation. Nothing was going to come from talking over all this anymore, especially not a boar.

Sgt Kafka stepped forward. "We'll need to be real quiet to let the boar come this way, provided these are different than the other ones I've hunted. That being said, I'll kill it. I know how." She said, taking out her boot knife.

[Giovenith]

"Like Neste said, other animals will eat it," Giovenith said, using her step ladder to climb out of the hole. "We bury the food to get the boar's attention, since wild pigs are scavengers who often dig for their food. Then we corner them and begin the chase."

She gave Drova a nod. The two hadn't always been on the best of terms, but he hadn't deserved what he had gone through today. She took further note of the now quite large number of people on site and began to formulate a plan. Before she could share, Paper-Willow burst through the trees with a wide grin and a mane messed up by his wild tour through the jungle.

"I put some of the food out," he said proudly. "Is the hole big enough yet?"

"I think so." The hole was now deeper than she was tall, so at the very least, it would trap the pigs long enough for them to go for the kill. Admittedly, Giovenith felt some guilt over this. It seemed cruel to frighten, trick, and trap an animal so, but they had no other choice if they were to protect the residents. "We should probably get started on the hunt."

"Lovely!" Paper-Willow rubbed his hooves together eagerly. His hair was still a mess whereas real Willow would have brushed it back by now, neat freak that he was.

Giovenith raised an eyebrow. "You, aren't put off that we're hunting another living creature? Peaceful herbivore and all..."

"Ah, it's just an animal!" Paper-Willow waved a foreleg dismissively. "I swat flies all the time, how is it really objectively different? Besides, I'm not eating the thing, I'm helping you with something important. It'll be fun."

Last time pig had been hunted on the island, (real) Willow had been sent into horrified vomiting upon seeing the carcass. The godling pinched her brow in concern but refrained from commenting further.

"Normally in olden days," she addressed the whole gathering. "Noblemen would use horses to chase the boars, and well, since our horse isn't inclined to give us all piggyback rides, we're going to have to be more careful to stay out of the way of the rampage. Being plowed by one of these things isn't fun. I'm thinking, maybe we could use the fliers to chase the boars directly, and others can prod from the trees?"

Paper-Willow clapped a little more in excitement.

[Holy Lykos]

Maghrl gave up his search through the force, it would be futile anyway. No animal was strong enough to be directly felt through it, with a few exceptions. The Squib shrugged, and twiddled a tiny bit with the lightsaber in his belt. The paper equine was... odd. He was not acting very stable, and downright cruel. What a strange parody.

"Maghrl saber able kill fast. Just need get on Boar-back. 'Saber through brain." He frowned a tiny bit, obviously not too pleased by having to resort to violence. "Two Boar, remember though! Not One Boar. Maghrl drop from tree onto BoarBeast. Force guide Squib, hopefully. If no, rough ride, yes yes."

At least that's what Maghrl was assuming from what he'd heard. If anything he was just as likely to become paste from attempting to jump on a boar at high speed. But oh well, they needed to save the pony friend of this one nice girl. He'd throw himself in front of a charging boar for that. Well... not in front, that would be stupid. On top.

"Who find BoarBeast? Papercat, Maghrl, who?" Even without the force the squib had a keen nose and strong vision. It wouldn't take long to work out where to find a boar with him and a few others.

[Highfort]

RAIDERS of the LOST BOOK

OPERATION: BIBLIOPHILE
DIMENSION: Gallimaufry then 257P
LOCATION: Above the Max Thunder Fury Road Beyond Ascalon Dome
TEAMS: MU
RotLB

Discordant voices rang out from within the convoy as the diving lizards made their approach. Baron Primordial's Lightning Gun did the trick and then some - the two lizards dove suddenly as their muscles cramped. Falling short of the convoy, they blasted sand into the sky as they skidded into the dunes below. Whoops and cheers echoed from the semi and its two escorts as they picked up speed, the black smoke belching from the three trucks at greater levels as they made a break for the canyon pass ahead to shield them from the dragons.

The rising lizards had not lost sight of their quarries, however, and they rolled to keep up with Sandy. Their greater size and girth meant they flew wide and lost ground on him, but they remained in relentless pursuit. Within their throats, tar-textured ichor came alight as they sought to make their own approach on the Pegasus and his passengers. Their advantage lie in now being far above Sandy, and their wings swept back as they prepared to dive and make up for lost time.

Ahead, the lone lizard made its mark known on one of the scouts. Swooping into a gentler dive than usual, it forwent great blasts of fire for instead grabbing one of the cars and lifting it into the air. Screams echoed over the radio; the driver bailed out far too late, her body smashing itself against the sand with a sickening crunch!

Her radioman found himself pulled higher and higher into the air, the tin can that had once been his pride-and-joy now converted into a death trap.

"Help me! Oh Demens! Oh Demens, he's gonna drop me on you!" panicked cries rang out.

[Torrocca]

Hectaros took in a deep breath as he processed every words this strange, hairless rodent spoke to him, leaning with his arm against the nearby wall and his hand on his forehead, wiping away the dirt and sweat that had gathered from both the battle then and the conversation now. He considered each word carefully, and dwelled in his thoughts about them: if he could trust this creature - as if there was any one around he could trust that also spoke in the tongue of the Eteridones - then it may very well have been that what was prophesied was true. However, if he did trust him, he could find himself caught in a god's elaborate trick, tormenting him in his death. He weighed his options carefully, sighing and removing himself from the wall.

"Yes. Come, creatu- Hablarrata; tell me: what must I do?"

---

"Seseto. Decare teronoro - Hablarrata; voceba te: cedorro te?"

[Monfrox]

"Alright, sounds good. If the Sergeant here wants to take the dirty job, you said you've done this before?"

"Well yes, but I had a shotgun. I'll use my knife inside. Cut the arteries."

"Relatively painless, I hope."

"Hunting is a sport. It's about killing the animal in the most effective and painless way possible."

"People gotta eat, I guess. Better than using a lightsaber." She smiled at the Jedi. "Okay, no time to waste! Let's move!"

[Stormwrath]

Pavilion

Awkward silence.

Well, what the heck was Macy supposed to do other than sulk sullenly in her seat? Everyone's gone off to hunt boars anyway, so dinner will still take a while. She did glance at the Romy cutout that walked funnily towards her and Nila, but she paid him no mind.

Nila seemed to cheer her up, even though it was probably unintentional. "I-I-I-I don't think we celebrate the birth of Elohim's son in Ijessaliad," she waved her hands around at the construct. "A-and New Years in my dimension had already passed, I think, since it falls on the winter solstice." Hopefully Lux would forgive Nila for her error, however accidental...

But the android was more open to the idea of gifts, but should they do it now? "I think we should wait for everybody before we open the presents," she suggested.

It was then when the cutout also suggested they have a few drinks. "Unfortunately I am incapable of ingesting anything," she turned to Romy. "I lack a digestive system. Also, out of curiosity, won't you turn soggy if you drink?"

[Giovenith]

"Marcus said that Klaus' men found some north of the volcano in the thicker parts of the jungle," said Giovenith, before raising a hand. "Now remember what I just said guys, this isn't like hunting a deer or something, a boar will try to rip you up if it gets the chance. They're fast and strong, do not try to take this thing head on. We drive it into the pit, then kill it from the safe distance outside the pit."

She assessed those who had assembled. They had Nick, Brit, Neste, Willow, the Pyserai siblings, Maghrl, and the newbie. Not exactly the hunting kind of bunch.

"Okay, Yuna, Drova, Willow, Maghrl, you four will be the main chasers," said Giovenith, pointing out the group. "Since three of you can fly and one of you has the Force, you should be able to goad the boar without risk of being run over. Remember to chase it from all different directions, not together, the point is to make sure it only runs in the direction we want it to, the pit."

"We can use our shovels to whack it into a frenzy!" offered Paper-Willow, who was still grinning and still hadn't fixed his hair, waving his shovel. "Since we don't have pointy sticks!"

"I... guess. As for the rest," Giovenith turned to the others. "Someone will have to be here by the pit when it gets here, someone fast. It's like bullfighting, the boar will be angry and want to charge something, so when it see's you it will run up, you jump out of the way, and it runs itself into the pit. Then the others go for the kill."

[Mincaldenteans]

Ice Hut

Time long since gone. The words were bittersweet droplets. "There was a time when the Fae walked openly. They were respected as gods. Feared by Man," Fritz brushed his lips against her white knuckles. "I can think of few others worthy of that honor."

Pookie's resounding crash outside elicited a prolonged sigh from Fritz. He would have killed them all for their insolence, once upon a time. He smiled and gestured towards the wine glasses. "Humans will be humans. Those like me grew weary of their antics long ago. They claim to no longer need old gods yet test every god's patience. Why should the old gods help them? Let them fumble through their own mess."

Settling into the chair once more, he raised a glass to the Queen. "To you, and to your People."

But he wasn't here only to bask in her beauty. Mab and her people were a silvery thread in Time's tapestry, one that he lost track of over the ages. Now freed from heavy obligations at the Building, he chose to pick up the thread one more. "I'm glad you find the decor suitable. It reflects upon a time when I walked freely among men. Before my seclusion, the Fae were still a presence. I'd like to know what happened during my slumber, before being awakened and drawn back to the mortal world over war. Of course, only if you're willing to tell the story. You're under no obligation to satisfy my curiosity. What happened? What caused the Fae to retreat into the forests and mists?"

Mab sat idly still for a moment, the only sounds were the soft taps of her fingers upon the armchair. Comfortable as the furnished chair was, the topic was anything but. It was a long time ago that her people retreated and much had changed among the Fae since then. Too much, if Mab had anything to say about it, but thankfully for the Queen, her nature and motives hadn't changed, merely her actions to fulfill them.

“We consolidated,” Mab said finally, ambiguous yet crystal clear in meaning.

“Summer and Winter weren't always so; we simply were. But those times were waning before my ascension to the throne. Divisions had widened us and Man's insolence in the face of our diminishing influence forced our hands. Lines were drawn soon after, fault was found for the slightest act and power bled out before we agreed to an uneasy truce.

“Now we maintain vigil,” She continued simply, almost a bitter huff escaped her breath as she acknowledged her role and existence, “To maintain a balance and preserve what we have rather than wasting it away. But the games never stop; we play a stratagem among ourselves and against Summer.”

She took a sip from her glass, gathering her thoughts as she pondered what else there was to say, and concluded nothing more needed be revealed. More details meant shedding light to trivial matters that sought to detract and distract her from her duties and so were left largely unmentioned. Power was waning among the Courts and for all of their posturing, the Queens knew it, and Mab had to admit she didn't know why or how to prevent its growing entropy. Those high ranking champions and nobles of the Court, the true Sidhe, were the last to feel the deprivations but nonetheless began to consolidate, careful not to expend or attempt maneuvers too costly. Mab would never feel it, being Winter of the Sidhe, but her people suffered and so to did Summer. Despite her animosity toward them the message was clear: Faerie was dying.

At least, in her universe.

It was maddening to know another Court existed in Gallimaufry that didn't experience the same plight; and thereby she had to rein in her anger, frustrations, and the primal yawning hunger to challenge Maeve to personal combat, thereby securing a more powerful throne (or die trying). But such wanton actions would yield little gain and Mab instead worked quietly with a reluctant summer fae, Dan, who now lived among his Summer counterparts, for months to set the Fae courts at ease with the Residents. She never revealed, let alone mentioned, her temptation to seek power among her kindred, nor sought a deal with Maeve to further her own agenda. Instead, grievances with the Wyld sheep were settled and ties to the Burrows and Residents remained quiet but assured provided it served the community. ‘Among them’, the Queens had noted with specificity to their mutually agreed consent, an interesting response that Mab chose not to inquire further - she had bargained on behalf and more than she felt required of her.

Mab turned her head and smiled softly at Fritz to break away from her reverie, rising from her seat, “Matters not for now. Let us join the others, perhaps their seasonal comradery will reinvigorate our sluggish spirits. Not that your company isn't a spark on itself.”

She had not meant to brood or worry about matters beyond her control and Fritz’s efforts to a wintery abode deserved more than her melancholy attitude. She offered her hand, which Fritz had tucked to his arm and the duo left the hut. Mab shook her head, changing her hair into a melange of dark blues, purple and shimmering strands of deep forest emeralds. She deemed it fitting to reflect her change in mood and enjoy the fleeting time she had with Fritz. They exited the hut and took their seats upon a new winter chariot-tub that dashed off, leaving a trail of snow behind them.

The pavilion was large and even from afar the Winter Queen could make out the familiar figures of the Residents moving about behind large Christmas trees. Some spectacle had transpired from afar, the tub had purposely slowed down, and the snow that danced around them moved with precision, caution. Mab could see someone had fallen and the Sidhe smirked with curiosity as she looked on while the tub took an elongated path around, “Are we sacrificing someone as of old? Power used to shift with such a noble tribute to honor the cycles.”

The tub stopped and Fritz, ever the gentlemen, took her hand once more and the duo looked like a pair of high nobles stepping into Court as they walked toward the entrance from the other side. Winter, it seemed, also held the tropics at bay in the pavilion.

From the corner of her eye, Mab caught sight of a glimmering object. She turned her head curiously, surprised to find a box with large rounded and loud sparkling pink lettering of her name tagged to it. The trifling object looked gaudy, but Mab surmised that likely was the point. Fritz assured there was no debt or price that came with the gift, and so the Sidhe took it as they made their way further in.

[Saldinado]

The Pavilion

"...That was quite the action that I would not expect to see during such a day as this. But it seems that there's no such thing as a good time when people are involved." Henry shrugged as he saw all that went down in front of his face. It was a rather confusing sight to see to say the most, but whatever it was about was great enough to not only get his attention, but as well as the people that were around him.
Playing a few more songs to himself and the rest of the patrons as he drunk about five glasses of Shirly Temples with lemonade--He wasn't a real big drinker-- that were trying to enjoy the rest of their meals and day he saw that a group of people got up from their seats and such and all went off somewhere. One group traveled towards the beach where he previously was and the other went to what he believed was the jungle given its lush and green appearance of the environment. Yet there was something rather strange about the latter. They seemed to be carrying shovels with them. As to why they were doing that was unknown and rather curious to him. Scratching his head with his index finger he watched as the group with the shovels went off into the jungle. "Eh? Now why do they need shovels? Is there some kind of digging adventure that I wasn't mentioned in? Hey, that sucks! How come I wasn't told about this?!" He said to himself as he got up from his spot from the piano and stretched for a moment before putting his hands together and intertwining his fingers with each other as he cracked them and sighed.

The Jungle

With a small grunt, Henry combed his hair as he began to limp slightly towards the group that traveled towards the inland of the island where he walked and walked for a moment, casually stepping on twigs, leaves, and branches for which given the situation of the one's that could be hunting boars, might prove to mistake him as one. While walking through the thick bushels of foliage, the predominate sounds of grunting, twigs breaking, and moving grasses near the group with shovels become more anxious or curious as to what exactly was causing such a great amount of noise around them. The noise soon grew louder and more violent as a small growl was emitted from Henry as he pushed his way through the vegetation with force and a little anger until the noise finally stopped for a moment which was soon followed by the sound of soft heavily breathing similar to that of a person who was either out of breath or irate about something until with one loud grunt, Henry pushed through the leaves and branches where he shot out from out of the vegetation and straight into the group where he nearly lost his balance and fell onto the floor, and nearly into one of the many holes that were dug up around the area, letting his glasses fly off as he hit the ground and into one of the shallower holes.

With a small groan being emitted from the young man as he laid on the ground in temporary pain from the fall and the pain from his leg, he looked up at the remaining people that were digging holes and flushed slightly in embarrassment. "Um...Hello?" He awkwardly and forcefully chuckled as he looked at the holes that were around them which were slightly blurry due to his imperfect vision and scratched his head with his index finger in confusion. "What in God's name happened here..." He muttered to himself to no one in particular as he looked at a hole that was in front of him and slightly cocked his head in curiosity and confusion. "So is that what those shovels are for eh?" Muttered the black-hair teen who then realized that his glasses were missing and got on his hands and knees where he began to run his hands around the ground to find and salvage for his glasses with a small grunt slash groan being emitted from his mouth. "Damn it...Where the hell are they?" He said to himself out loud to himself as he continued to search for his bifocals.

[Tiltjuice]

"Marcus said that Klaus' men found some north of the volcano in the thicker parts of the jungle," said Giovenith, before raising a hand. "Now remember what I just said guys, this isn't like hunting a deer or something, a boar will try to rip you up if it gets the chance. They're fast and strong, do not try to take this thing head on. We drive it into the pit, then kill it from the safe distance outside the pit."

She assessed those who had assembled. They had Nick, Brit, Neste, Willow, the Pyserai siblings, Maghrl, and the newbie. Not exactly the hunting kind of bunch.

"Okay, Yuna, Drova, Willow, Maghrl, you four will be the main chasers," said Giovenith, pointing out the group. "Since three of you can fly and one of you has the Force, you should be able to goad the boar without risk of being run over. Remember to chase it from all different directions, not together, the point is to make sure it only runs in the direction we want it to, the pit."

"We can use our shovels to whack it into a frenzy!" offered Paper-Willow, who was still grinning and still hadn't fixed his hair, waving his shovel. "Since we don't have pointy sticks!"

"I... guess. As for the rest," Giovenith turned to the others. "Someone will have to be here by the pit when it gets here, someone fast. It's like bullfighting, the boar will be angry and want to charge something, so when it see's you it will run up, you jump out of the way, and it runs itself into the pit. Then the others go for the kill."

Dora winced.

"Let's be metaphorical about that until we know for sure exactly what the other Chosen want. If they're expecting a live boar or two and we hand them a carcass, they might get rough. And as for that - I think I could have some kind of help. Possibly. It's a little bit fuzzy, but I think I got a different ability from what I had. Maybe actually needing to use it will shake out the cobwebs."

[Giovenith]

"Good point, Dora," said Giovenith. "Fine, just let the pigs fall in then. As for who will search them out, who here has the best tracking-"

Someone came crashing through the jungle and tumbling into their pit.

"It works!" Paper-Willow cheered, pointing down at the Henry in the hole.

[The BranRiech]

Drova

Chasing wild beasts, Drova thought, had always been rather fun. He looked back fondly, shooting at Bats with his air-rifle. He'd always bring the bats home, even though Yuna thought it to be disgusting, a sentiment shared by his mother. But this kind of hunting seemed to be completely different. The idea was still there though, and Drova thought it more of a battle than an actual hunt.

"We're to chase them through the jungle, right, into this hole?" He walked up to the edge, looking down. What sort of beast were these Boars that they needed a hole this big? Surely nothing that big could live on an island, right? "Because yeah, Yuna and I can fly above them, through the trees. Should we get a long stick, maybe to prod them along?"

He imagined it in his head, the wind and palm leaves brushing against his face, trying to wield a large branch against a speeding animal. The picture in his head elicited a chuckle from him.

[Giovenith]

Unicorns

Fools, aren't they? the Umbrum spoke in Brit's head. Unlike before when they condescended her, their "voice" seemed bitter, as if partaking in her frustrated state. Even the best of them are all fools. They wasted our lives away while propping up their precious future Crystal Queen.

The air seemed to grow heavy in malevolence.

You hated them once, they continued. And you were right to. The grey one you sicken yourself with will likely be dead by this night, and even if he is not, it is only a matter of time before he finds another to give his true adoration to. We have looked into his mind. Then there will be none left worth saving for you.

Clover's hologram suddenly began to emit a beep and her face lit up. "I think I've caught the princess's signal!"

You want to fight us? Then come.

The cave walls shifted faster than anyone could react, morphing into blackness and swallowing Brit. She tumbled and tumbled until she landed in a new tunnel entirely.

"So this is how it ends," said a voice, as black smoke materialized into the evil book-looking Willow that had terrorized her before. He knelt in challenge. "Eh, sweetheart?"

The darkness around them began to morph into more shapes.

Pegasi

It was a little acknowledged fact that spite can lead to heroism, or at least, relatively good deeds. The Umbrum were feeling spiteful. The enemy of my enemy and all that, and a certain little pegasus had made a fine enemy of himself. If he was going to sit there and fuck up their plans, well then they'd have to just go right on ahead and return the favor. Their influence spread and twisted throughout the darkness until they found the one who could help them do just that.

Private Pansy mostly walked beside Rache in submissive silence, keeping her eye out for any possible clues as to the whereabouts of Willow and Cloud Duster. She had no way of knowing what was coming, but when it did come it completely seized her with a gasp, freezing her in place and filling her eyes with the light of possession. It did not hold her for long. In the time of an onlooker it lasted for only one second, a brief flash, but in that second she saw all the Umbrum felt she needed to know.


It was just their luck that things would go south the day right after Commander Hurricane left. It was just their luck that there even was a deeper south than where they were now to go, but oh were they going, down and down straight into Tartarus. It was already a savage night, completely starless and plagued with winds so loud it kept most of the inhabitants of Cynisca up well into the midnight. Even the cloud foundation of some parts of the city began to twist and rock in protest against the blizzard's howling, not enough to misplace the infrastructure but enough that the citizens felt a good degree of anxiety over the future stability of their homes. Rainshine's home was luckily not one of them, but that did little to comfort as she lay beneath three layers of blankets in a pitch black room, eyes squeezed shut and ears folded tightly as she tried to block out the windigos' wrath screaming right through her walls. Zipping up every last window and door in the house had done little to muffle it, the best it had done was provide the family a fragile cocoon to huddle within as pure hell whistled around them. Rainshine never sought solace from sleep, it was the waking world that provided her refuge from the nightmares that had followed her since the Crusade; between them and pony country's sorry state now, it was getting harder and harder to tell where reality began and where it ended.

There was good news; Arctic Wind, an old family friend and Maya's father, had offered to take in Valoria on nights like these where even the proud veteran could not refuse assistance. There was bad news, and that was that Maya herself was dead. Stayed out too long without propering covering, was taken by the frost's bite. Rainshine wished she could say that she had been outraged by Cloud Duster's poor attempts to conceal his pleased state when she told her teens this news, she wished she could say that she had gone through with the slap that was meant to follow the now habitual raising of her hoof to him, but honestly, the widow was tired. Too tired to rage, too tired to condemn, too tired to care. What, was she supposed to weep for the future wedding that would now never happen, as if she had even expected it to anymore with the rate at which ponies were perishing? No, if anything, Rainshine felt only relief that Thistle Whistle had not been the one in Maya's place. Nor... Cloud Duster?

Yes, nor Cloud Duster. She had been just as surprised as anypony else would have been when she first found herself thinking it, staring into her children's faces as she lowered her hoof without a strike. How many times had she told that boy out of anger that she wished he'd never been born, that she wished he'd died instead of his father, uncle, and cousin? She had said many, many cruel things to him. He never cared. Maybe he had good reason not to, for it was looking at him then that it really dawned on her that she had never, ever meant a word of it. Despite everything he had done, everything she had done, all the turmoil and dysfunction they'd birthed, despite the fact that when she looked into his eyes she continued to see complete and utter emptiness... beyond the lies, the shifting masks, and that emptiness beneath them, there still lay the fuzzy and trembling bundle that was her baby, newly born and full of her dreams. There still lay the whimpering ball that Cloud Twister would take up into his forelegs and wings late at night and tell, 'Shhh, Daddy's here, Daddy will always be here....'

Cloud Duster had never grown to fulfill a single one of her expectations, but even if he'd never given her a beloved future, he could never take away the beloved moments of the past. The bastard and the baby were inseperable. Every time Rainshine had hurt the former she had invariably hurt the latter, and this knowledge tore her apart. It was only now when faced with the threat of having both ripped away from her by winter's grip that she realized how worthless her expectations were, how worthless her dreams, her disappointment, her heartbreak - she'd gladly throw it all away if it meant holding the one who brought it all upon her close and safe.

Insanity at its most heartwarming.

This melancholy was interrupted as her door burst open. Startled, Rainshine wiped her eyes and sat up to see a frantic Thistle Whistle wearing her armor. Before she could ask her niece what was the matter, she received a horrified answer: "The sirens!"

It had been difficult to hear them over the wind, but they were indeed there. The small family quickly bundled themselves as thickly as they could while still being mobile before filing out into the crowding streets, observing as neighbors frantically roused one another in warning before marching down side by side to the positions which the numbered tone of the sirens indicated.

Rainshine felt beads of sweat go down her brow as fear began to grip her heart. She looked to her right at Thistle who was putting on the brave face that she was taught but saw the little cracks and imperfections that betrayed her own fear. She looked to the left at Duster, whose expression as truly neutral and unreadable as if they were on a bored stroll instead of marching straight into Hell. If there was one thing she could say that he had taught her, it was that perhaps being fearless wasn't as truly great a trait as warriors often thought it to be. Rainshine wanted to send them both back, tell them to let her handle this while they stayed relatively safe, but that wasn't the Cyniscan way.

The roars and buzzing had already begun long before they reached position, Duster taking charge and barking at them both to go as they broke into a sprint before eventually splitting off, adult and teens diving into their respective stations. Rainshine swallowed her worry and began her frantic race to arm herself with medical supplies before ponies started dropping. What should have been a simple task wasn't helped by the cold, her numb hooves shaking and refusing to flew properly as she tried to scoop rolls of bandage into her satchel, and shaking further still as the war cries beyond devolved into distinct screams of pain and terror as somepony began to get peeled by ghouling nails and others futilely tried to save them. Rainshine wound up dropping a roll and scrambled to catch it as it unfurled across the floor, the little accident coupled with the stress, and howling, and screams setting her panic off even further and nearly bringing her to frustrated tears. The snarls of the other medical Domestics brought her back to reality, and she hurriedly gathered the bandages, stuffed them away, and flew out into the bitter winter air to seek out the injured.

The storm had only grown worse since the alarm first sounded, and even for experienced fliers navigating through the air that night was like nagivating a maze with walls of polished glass. Rainshine's wrapped scarf did little help to her vision against the cutting snow and her sense of direction was even more thrown off by the winds tossing her about every time her focus wavered from propelling her wings at full strength. It wasn't long before she could barely see the city or any fellow ponies anymore, just a never-ending expanse of blackness and swirling white specks, as the screams and roars of battle blared at her from every direction. At least fifty individual voices desperately crying out for help reached her ears and tugged her heart in fifty directions until it tore apart - Rainshine put her hooves to her head and let loose a long scream before beginning to sob. She couldn't save anypony. She'd never been able to for as long as she lived.

She couldn't do this anymore.

For a moment, she shut down, hovering there doing nothing to aid, fight, or flee. She felt too empty to move or think. The screams of the fighting and dying faded from her mind, as did the ever increasing volume of the buzzing that accompanied them. It wasn't clear whether she was unable to comprehend the putrid mass descending upon her or somehow chose to ignore it, but either way, Rainshine was only barely saved from being torn to flesh ribbons by Cloud Duster slamming into her shell shocked body and bringing them both down to the cloud pavement below.

She couldn't hear what he was saying as he angrily shook and slapped her, whether from the cacophony drowning him out or her broken state rendering her mentally deaf. He dragged her out of the streets and propped her against a building but it did little to help. Her mind focused on the shapes and lines of his face, drawing out the features he'd inherited from his father, watching as they pinched in further frustration as she reached out to touch them and her eyes pooled with tears. He roughly shoved her off of him and turned to meet several stalking black masses: smaller ghoulings, not the behemoths normally dealt with, but no longer babies either. They rivaled his own size but Rainshine saw no hesitation in his movement as he sprung forward and carved out an arc of green blood from the one in front of him before striking out at the others. A brutally graceful choreography played out in silence in front of the mare as she felt herself slip from the wall and lay at her side, watching without expression or word as Cloud Duster struggled to keep the ghoulings away from her. One managed to tear his helmet off and he sliced off its arm in response, it screamed a scream Rainshine couldn't hear before punching Duster away, but he rebounded quickly and tackled it once again as it began to turn towards her, burying both his gauntlet knives into its head area and running them out sideways. The second tried to take advantage of his back while the third grabbed its brother's severed arm and scuttled to a nearby shadow to nibble on it.

As the first ghouling convulsed on the ground from its sliced brain, Rainshine flashed back to the baby ghouling she'd throttled to save her son. She'd abandoned him. She'd known very well the agonizing fate that would await her baby and yet she left him to it anyway, regardless of her change of heart she had done it, and now here he was saving her. And unlike her, she knew that the short amount time that her assault had occurred in meant that he would not have had time to hesitate as she had; for reasons unknown, after all they had gone through, Cloud Duster held no trepidation over saving his mother's life.

Rainshine made a decision then. Her hearing returned as her mind cleared, and before Duster could do anything to stop her she had spread her wings and took off without word or warning. He turned and tried to call out to her, but his side was assaulted by a bleeding ghouling and had to shift his attention to rolling it over and gutting it. Thistle Whistle flew to his side, quickly analyzing the scene.

"Get her!" he ordered, pointing after where their guardian had flown.

The female Private didn't hesitate, taking off and speeding agilely through the blistering air until she caught sight of her aunt's backside. The elder mare briefly looked over to catch a glimpse of her niece before doing an unexpected dive to try and shake her off, but Thistle kept up.

"Auntie!" she called over the wind. "Stop!" What was she doing?!

Rainshine only took more dives, climbs, and loopty-loops in order to lose the Private, Thistle Whistle matching each and staying on her tail despite the ever increasing brutality of the storm. A sudden gust blew her off track and blinded her vision, and she found herself forced down to a cloud. The wind slapped so hard against her skin she suspected it might leave bruises. She could see the faint outline of the side of the city through the greyness, taking note of how easy it would be to lose it and letting this solidify her resolve to find Rainshine. A very close sound caught her ears, and she turned to find her cousin half-stumbling half-flying to meet her. His body was bruised and his forehead had a bleeding gash, but he had lost none of his energy as he stood up and snarled at her. "Where is she?!"

Thistle shook her head and looked outward. "She can't be far, but she threw me off."

"Idiot!" Duster wasn't calling Thistle an idiot, she could tell, but rather Rainshine. Though Thistle respected her elders, this time she had to concur - it was suicide flying blindly into this mess. "You have to fall back, now!" He pointed back to the city edge. "I'll finish this!"

"What? No!" she stood up to him. "She's not going to listen to you!"

"I'll drag her plot back!"

"Why are you trying to send me away?"

"There's too many and too big to handle head on," said Cloud Duster. "They're going to use a tornado. Everypony only has ten minutes to clear out!"

Thistle Whistle's eyes widened despite the wind drying them and her heart plopped into her stomach. "That's insane! They'll kill stragglers!"

Pegasi were not immune to the danger of twisters. Much like a train, it was impossible to stop the rampaging storm in time to spare anypony suddenly caught in the path of destruction, the only ones who were really safe were the ones doing the spinning themselves and god help them if they lost they control. If they did, not only could they be shaken to death in the winds or flung out miles away, but the path of the storm could no longer be steered or even predicted and it would begin to travel randomly, killing indiscriminately. They were among the deadliest and most risky of the pegasus race's bag of tricks.

"And if they don't, the beasts will kill us all!" Cloud Duster began shoving her off the cloud towards the city. A loud horn began to pierce through the air over the wind from the direction, the warning to clear out for the imminent storm. "I'll get her in time, just go back!"

Thistle would have argued further if not for the flash of blue behind Duster catching her eye. Her saw her expression and quickly turned, catching it too. "There she is!"

"GO!" Duster gave her one last rough shove before turning around and taking off after his mother.

He put on a burst of speed and didn't allow her to dodge him, colliding into her for the second time tonight and grabbing hold of her. Rainshine screamed and began thrusting the elbow of her forleg out repeatedly behind her to strike his face and dislodge him. When his grip did not loosen despite getting nailed a few times in his jaw, she began to yell: "Let go of me! Let go, you gelding!"

"You're a fool!" he screamed back, attempting to restrain his forelegs and pull her through the air. "Idiot! Always an idiot! They will tear you limb from limb!" It wasn't sure if he meant the ghoulings or the tornado. Probably both.

"Let them!" She slapped her foreleg free and delivered another elbow punch, this time nailing him right in the eye, causing him to finally let go as he gasped and touched it in pain. Rainshine didn't fly away again this time, instead taking advantage of Duster's brief indisposal to grab hold of him, heave him in a brief spin, and attempt to throw him through the air back towards the city edge. "Get back! Go home and take care of your cousin!"

Duster opened his eyes and nipped hold of her tail as she let him loose, pulling her through the air with him and breaking the full force of the toss. They spun through the air like a bolas until Duster once again heaved himself upward, climbing onto Rainshine's back and attempting to grab hold of her once again. "You are her mother!" As good as it anyway. "You've never done your job!!"

Rainshine nearly wept. He was right. She hadn't been a real mother to either of them since they were very small. She'd been too wrapped up in the fear, the resentment, and most shamefully, the desire for power, filling their short childhoods with so much punishment and restraint that there'd hardly been room left for so much as an embrace. Thistle had never deserved it. And Cloud Duster... she'd began hurting him out of what she thought was love. She thought, if she could just break him, just get him under control, just get him to listen, she could teach him how to go through life the right way, guarantee that he would be happy and honored rather than all of Cynisca eventually figuring him out for the degenerate he was when she was gone and unable to hide it or protect him. Now? Now...

Now she wondered, if that was the way she saw things, who was to say that her son had not inherited his black heart from her all along?

The Domestic mare felt numbed as the Private tugged at her, continuing to scream hysterical commands for her to move over the loudening wind. The tornado was beginning, both could feel it in their bones. The dark clouds above them began to churn and turn a soupy green, the wind picked up in a sudden new shift. Cursing, Cloud Duster thrust his foreleg upward intending to bring it down on Rainshine's head and render her unconscious, but an even more powerful gust of air sent them tumbling along once again. It was rapidly becoming harder to control their flight. The wind's roar had risen to the level of a passing locomotive, and most horrifically still, was accompanied by the sound of a buzzing so big and loud that it vibrated the air and chattered their teeth. Duster's eyes widened as what little light provided by the full moon was eclipsed by a putrid shadow. The ponies came face to face with the largest ghouling either of them had ever seen.

They were mice compared to the monster, it completely dominated their line of sight and set the world in black. It was no less distressed about the coming tornado and indirectly took this out on the pegasi in its midst, its own roar accompanied by the howling storm winds and the buzzing nearly rendering them deaf, and the corpsey smell rolling off of the ropes upon ropes of dark hair watering their eyes nearly rendering them blind (not helped by the already blinding snowfall). The combined chaos of all that raged around them had effectively made them powerless, unable to hear, see, smell anything but death, have their screams be heard, or control their own movement to any assistance, it felt as though the sheer pressure of it all would kill them long before either the storm or monster did.

"Mother!" Cloud Duster tried to scream as he clutched his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, pounding his wings as hard as he could just to avoid being completely crushed to death. It was no use, the sound waves from the Tartarus he'd found himself in seemed to push his voice back down his own throat.

The teenager's eyelids shook from trying to push themselves open. It was nigh-impossible to see anything but an angry mess of black, white, and grey. His mind screamed to block his sight, to shut down everything, curl up, and pray for fate to have mercy, but Duster defied. Soon enough, he was granted a glimpse something else, a smudge of blue so similar to his own shade carelessly tossing through the violent aether. For a moment the chaos faded away as he zeroed in on the smudge and watched it take shape into a pony, Rainshine, seeming now to turn through the air in slow motion with a look of unnatural serenity on her face. For a long second she turned towards her son and opened her eyes to take him in. They brightened sadly and her mouth pulled into a smile - a real smile. A smile of real, true, unconditional love.

And then she was gone. The world sped up again and she was sucked into the darkness, and Cloud Duster didn't need to be told that she wasn't coming back. He didn't care. He was too busy curling in on himself as the already unbearable discord only grew stronger and stronger as the wind picked up, feeling as though his body would be ripped apart at any second, futilely fighting with all his strength just for the simple right to scream as he died without his voice being squashed down and ripped away. He would die. This was it. He had never feared death, but it had been guaranteed that he would never leave this world underestimating its potency once twas you for whom the bell tolled.

Something slammed into him. He'd thought it was debris at first until his tongue caught stray hair. He struggled to open his eyes again and caught the pink and yellow back of Thistle Whistle's head as the dug herself into him, locking her forelegs around him and burying her face against his chest, forcing him backward through the air. She'd been too late though, as the last thing he effectively saw was the pale wall of the ghouling's arm materializing through the grey and slamming into the cousins full force. From there it was nothing but feeling, the feeling of shooting through a large half-frozen cloud, comparable to falling through a long line of thin-glassed windows lined up one against another in a row. The feeling of not even making it out the other end, but rather being abruptly ripped out through the side like an atmological C-section as the air pulled them into a steady orbit and the world exploded.



The only sound to rouse the Private was the subtle sigh of snowflakes hitting the ground. Just that. There was no wind, no distant murmur of life, not even the crunch of shifting snow. It was perfect silence to allow the quietest voices of nature to lull him out of unconsciousness, gently floating down to caress his face and decorate his mane in a crown of sparkles. So unlike the many tiny knives they seemed to become during the storm, they nestled together to form a blanket around his limbs, bundling his tattered and broken form like a newborn babe. They'd been long at work burying the unseemingly sight of blood flowing through his many cuts.

The first thing he noted upon opening his eyes was the softer tone of the sky, now a cool dark blue peppered with stars unlike the oppressive blackness it'd been during the battle. The full moon directly above glowed so brightly it seemed to banish all shadows. It seemed a good place to lie in, a resting stop in eternity that few ever got to enjoy. His limbs seemed to firmly agree, their heavy frozen state anchoring him down as he attempted to push himself up from under his snow blanket. He perserved and left a Cloud Duster-shaped hole in the otherwise pristine expanse of twinkling whiteness, marring perfection still as he rapidly tried to stomp and stretch feeling back into his legs.

First rule of survival in winter: keep moving. He didn't know where he was or how long he'd been unconscious, but if soreness and stiffness along with the lack of visible skid trail from when he'd landed was any indication, it'd been far too long. Cynisca was nowhere in his current line of sight. He slowly forced himself into a march, leaving a tiny trail of hoof prints behind him as he traveled downhill and tried to wring feeling back into his wings. Most likely he was somewhere in the mountains, he'd been extraordinarily lucky and merely flung away by the tornado instead of crushed, his fall likely cushioned by the thick snows that nopony was around to shovel away. He knew others would not have been so lucky.

"Thistle?" he spoke. Merely spoke, as he did not want to cause an avalanche and figured it was so quiet that anypony around would have been easily able to hear him regardless. "Thistle Whistle?"

No answer. She'd been with him before, she'd disobeyed him, tossed herself back into danger to save him. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful or furious.

"Thistle Whitle?" he spoke again.

She was probably dead. That was the logical part of his brain said anyway, but it was snarled down by the selfish part as it desired the return of its shiny pebble.

The feeling in his wings returned enough for him to fly, taking to the air as a silent shadow against a dreamy but deathly quiet sky. Another pony might wonder why the world could seem to smile so beautifully when so much carnage had been wrecked upon it. Cloud Duster had never really questioned its ambivalent nature. He liked a lot of things about Earth ponies, but he had always thought it rather stupid of them to refer to the world as a "mother." The world was no nursemaid here to wrap you in a cradle, it was an unwitting roommate that did what it pleased and expected no more or less from you, which he could appreciate and wished more ponies would follow example. Oh you could become bitter, yes, but betrayal could be a thing of the past if everypony only openly expected others to be in things for themselves. You couldn't feel scorned by somepony you never trusted.

That was what instinctively went through his mind anyway when he came upon the red smudge on the snowy slope below and descended upon it to gently peel Thistle from the ground and hold her close. He reflected on how his heart stayed steady and he was not babbling in uncontrollable sorrow at her state. It just wasn't something that happened to him. His mind considered the loss he was about to experience and yet it did not touch his soul, no matter how much he urged it to.

"Do you remember everything I taught you?" she wheezed, still trying to comfort him despite being drenched in her own blood. She had probably gone through much sharp debris before finally landing her in the mountains.

Duster responded with neither a nod nor headshake. "It was all for nothing," he said simply. "You said if I did the right thing, things would go my way. You said I would always be happy."

That was why he went back to save his mother in spite of despising her to his core, to do what he knew was the right thing like Thistle Whistle had always told him. This is what it had earned him.

"I..." Thistle coughed. "... lied."

It was grander and more cruel a lie than anything Cloud Duster would be capable of spinning. He'd been right, she'd been wrong. Fate didn't care if you were or acted like a good or bad pony. Only ponies cared about that. Fate did whatever the hell it wanted.

"I don't want you to leave me," he said, bluntly rather than pleadingly, as if he was on the verge of throwing a tantrum. "I need you."

It was a difficult thing to admit. It was where he diverged paths from Abidemi and Sisyphus, he was sure that not once in their lives had they ever just had a break from the deceit, never had an oasis. They'd never had a Thistle Whistle. No matter what awful things he'd told her about what danced in his mind, no matter what she'd seen him do to others, she'd always stood strong and embraced him anyway, allowing him to for once not be trapped in-character, not be trapped within his own mind. He need that rest from the roles, that moment of fresh air, a moment to tell the truth. He needed her to let him be a real pony, not just an empty floating mask, even if it was all just more pretend. He needed her to lie to him and tell him he was good, because in spite of everything the biggest lie of all was that ponies hated to be lied to, they needed it, they need lies about the world so that the truths of their hearts could be set free.

"Are you... sad?" she asked, sounding confused but hopeful.

No, he wasn't, and that was exactly what upset him. It seemed insane. He'd once condescended Maya for saying that she both loved and hated him, for how could you feel opposing things at once? Now he understood. Duster knew his mind was right when it nonchalantly whispered, 'Whatever, you'll get over it,' and he hated the fact that it was right. He wanted to want to cry. He wanted his heart to break. Of all the useless piles of meaty trash that called themselves a pony Thistle was the only one who was worth a damn, and yet she was the one being taken, and he could not even muster a disappointed sigh. It was as impossible to him as when he'd tried to control the trees and dirt as a baby and yet his life had been nothing but punishment for it. Why? Why was his existence this endless fucking loop?

He began to shake his head with frustration. "This isn't...!" Wasn't what, fair? He already knew that. "This isn't what I want...!"

The world thought it could take what it wanted from him.

Thistle Whistle summoned all her strength to sit up and give him a hug. "You'll always be a good pony, Cloud Duster."

He'd show the world wrong.

Thistle croaked as a shink! and crack accompanied a burning pain between her ribs. She began to gurgle and shake as she slowly pulled away from her foster brother and looked down at the gauntlet knive embedded in her abdomen. Blood seeped out of it faster than her previous wounds had drawn. Her summer green eyes slowly made their way back up to look into Duster's maddened and determined ones, but they were already empty by the time they made it the full way, and he watched as her head lolled back and one final puff of frosty smoke leave her mouth with a hollow sigh.

He pushed her off his blade. He had no reverence for corpses, once the mind was gone that was it. If Thistle was going to be taken from him, then he would take her from himself. If his life was going to fall apart, it was going to fall apart on his own terms.

This was what stuck in his mind as he rose to his hooves again and looked out coldly toward the light of his country in the distance. A simple Private in dented armor and an unforgiving universe, placed so lowly on most artificial ladders, and yet for it all Cloud Duster in that moment saw himself as nothing less than a black hole. That light would not escape his clutch. He'd take it all inside of him before anything else ever got the chance, and keep taking and taking until there was nothing left to consume but himself, leaving the world as empty and silent as a winter night.


The regular color of her eyes returned with another gasp. What was that?! His sister-cousin, he...

He will thrust this country into a war to end all war and peace, the Umbrum whispered exclusively in her head. And he will use your friend's blood to it.

Pansy's heart picked up and she turned to the daemonpony frantically. "Rache-!"

Before she could explain, just as with Brit, the cave walls turned into darkness and swallowed the daemonpony whole. He would be unable to escape, and also as with Brit, he was deposited into a new tunnel...

"Brit, Brit!" Clover slammed against the now hardened walls. "Bri-"

Behind her and the others, the walls opened up and spat out Rache at the unicorn group. The Glorianans whirled around, and in finding a pegasus in their midst, began to scream and panic.

[Cerillium]

PAVILION

"We- we can't all get drunk?" Nila's eyes skipped from Macy to Romulus and then back to Macy. The construct, not a creature willing to bypass a beneficial situation, tilted her head and offered her companions a fiendish smile. "We should take this moment to study the effects of alcohol upon other species not indigenous to this planet. We can best gauge the effects of this substance upon their brains by providing a controlled activity which requires them to use critical thinking while the substance progressively affects their functions. I suggest poker. The reward should gain us enough capital to buy prezzies for all of them."

It is a commonly known fact among the spacefaring peoples that Nifid constructs are pokerfucks. They're quite able to count cards and they can skim thoughts. Only a fish would sit across the table from a fuck. Yet so many unsuspecting pokerfolk did exactly that, taken in by their opponent's innocent eyes and fiddlehead babble. Surely the lizards are an easy mark. After all, the creature's naivety is transparent! Bonus - constructs can't lie. That said, constructs spend an inordinate amount of time bluffing their way through life and so it is foolish to think they wouldn't be masters of that talent.

Nila cast her gaze about. Fritz and Mab? Could such beings even get drunk? The Lads were lurking the corners but they had too high a tolerance to drugs and booze. The Men could get drunk. Oooooh there were tech priests! And wasn't Marcus around here somewhere as well? Were had the others run off to? "We can start with a-

THWUCK!

The arrow lodged into the table was immense. It missed Nila's hand by only inches. She squeaked and scrambled away from it, leaping from her chair and up Romulus' back. A deep hiss creaked from her throat as she peered over his shoulder. The arrow was bad enough, but the blue and gold flames licking around its flight feathers set her at great unease - the effect wasn't caused by magic according to her senses. This ghostly fire was chemical in nature. Nila watched the gooey fuel substance take the flames with it as it slowly crept down the shaft.

"There's a note on the shaft," she growled.

Someone had skewered the envelope before firing the shot.

The General's experience in combat allowed him to recreate the projectile's path. It was truly a near-impossible shot, only possible if one was standing in a small island-like clump of trees and ferns directly across from the pavilion. Several Lads raced towards the vicinity but nobody was there. Nobody ran down the beach away from the clump. The perpetrator had simply vanished. The notion unsettled Minerva's men.

"Root around the Shadows," Fritz called to the Lads after checking to make certain Mab was unscathed. "Though I doubt you'll find anything moving in our channels. And somebody grab the damn note before the fire destroys it."



THE PIT OF NOT-DESPAIR

"Paper isn't meant to run through jungles," Neste sighed as she helped Henry up. "There are rain puddles and mud. While we don't tear easy, we will turn to mush if drenched."

Henry's glasses hadn't gone far. Yuna blew the dust from the lenses and placed them in his palm. "Beside, we can drink and eat, and I'm feeling pretty parched." She smiled at her brother. "And Drova's got this. He's good at this stuff. But you, mister," she fixed Henry with her best imitation of a mother's glare, "You should visit the priests or find a healer to tend to your limp."

Soft thunder in the distance caused both paper creatures to turn their eyes skyward. But the noise was too regular, too much like the beat of far-off drums.

The construct took in the sun's position. "It's almost 3. Sunset is coming."

[Giovenith]

Giovenith gasped as she looked to the sky. How had it gone so fast?! And the paper constructs had to leave? But her plan...

She shook her head. Time to act! "Kafka, Maghrl, Dora, you guys and me will lure out and drive the boars! Drova, you be the bullfighter, it's the safest position for you since you have fragile bones and can fly out of the way."

The godling snatched Paper-Willow's shovel from him, prompting a disappointed yipe. She pulled out a smartphone from her pocket, quickly looked up tropical boars on an image search, and thrust it to the Jedi.

"This, do your best to lure out this if you can, please!" she urged, then addressed the whole group. "We don't have anymore time to think about this, be careful and let's go!"

And thus without giving time to question and waste more time, Giovenith lead the cautious charge towards the north of the volcano, following the path of small dug up patches Paper-Willow had made and armed with only shovels, a light saber, and urgency.

[Holy Lykos]

The heralding of a storm and the coming of night. Two events that certainly weren't good in their current circumstances. And they didn't even have one boar yet! With the events of earlier an already dangerous and difficult task was made nigh impossible. But nothing was impossible with the force. Well, except maybe explaining gods. Was the force a god? Was this the time for philosophical pondering? Yes of course! Under duress was always the best time to do jack shit and ponder the mysteries of the universe and multiverse!

The Squib nodded enthusiastically, after momentarily being distracted by the thunder and a strange train of thought."Yes yes, Maghrl go." And with that he dashed off to the Jungles. To where the shadowmen had pointed them, and hopefully do a boar. The Squib running off gestured for the others to follow, a purple blur parting bushes as it passed from sight. Except of course for those who were going along, such as Gio and the flying cardboard horse. Did cardboard horse taste better than normal cardboard? Did it taste better than horse? These were questions no one would be able to answer. Mostly because Willow had a weapon. Well he did at one point, and the Jedi hadn't checked to see if he still did.

The Jedi glanced down at the phone, furrowing his brow as he looked over the image. He reached out through his senses to call for any animal similar to such a beast to show itself. Hopefully such a call could be heeded. If not he could always just pick one out of the jungle of course.

----

Meanwhile, back at the Pavilion, Sterling glanced up as he noticed the fading light. Had they already- Oh mother of fucking Celestia! The arrow impacting the table told him his answer. They already had failed, or were close. His ears flicked back again and the Unicorn pulled himself to his feet again. One glance at the weapon, and the Lads failing to find who had fired it, and Sterling made up his mind. A heavy swallow, and a deep sigh of resignation. Trotting out of the covered Pavilion and onto the sand, Sterling began walking.

HE started trudging his way across the Sand beach to the place where the one man had told them to find boars. Maybe if he was there he could save everyone by... He didn't want to think about it. But he really didn't have much of a choice did he?

[Cerillium]

PEGASI

The Umbrum's trick wasn't entirely unexpected. Lads had shoved Rache through more spheres than he could count on both hands. Divide and conquer, or perhaps use a companion as bait. The squealing ponies sharing this new passage were unexpected but not unwelcome.

"Bravo, you should be proud," his Bavarian accent turning each word to crisp frost, the daemonpony sat on his haunches and slowly clapped his front hooves together. "Bravo, chaos beings. This is the part where I freak and demand the return of my companion. Such demand should have a dire 'or else!' tacked on to it for effect." He stopped clapping. "I so look forward to crawling down your craw and dining on your stomach contents, if you catch my drift. We'll have a merry dance."

Rache forced himself to push his concerns for Pansy aside. He had to trust in her. Hopefully, his words had buttressed her self-esteem enough to withstand their initial assault. He need only find her before the walls cracked.

His focused settled upon the lovely mares in front of him instead. Their bedraggled appearance drew a sigh from the daemonpony. "Stop all that screaming. You give me a fucking headache. Ja, the big, bad Pegasi has come to steal your apples with his big, bad clouds." His hoof drove into the hard tunnel floor as his wings unfurled. "Be afraid! Fear!" The wings folded with an audible snap. "Then get over fear. We don't have time to fuck around, ladies. All hell is about to break lose outside. Nopony's citizens - not earth, not pegasi, and not unicorn - will be safe. You-"

That cutie mark! That flavor! Rache's ears rocked forward. Eyes widened and then reliaf eased his features into a softer expression. "Chrys? You naughty Filly of Fate. So this is where you've been?"

[Cerillium]

TIKI HUT

Hablarrata tapped a hind paw on the clipboard. "Sign. An X will do. And then we'll go to the Pavilion for the feast, or you can refresh in your hut. The other Chosen are here, somewhere. They're hard to keep track of." The naked mole rat scampered up the warrior's arm to perch on his shoulder. "When you speak, I translate for you in words. When they speak, I translate to you in thought. Here," the rodent placed a paw on Hectaros' temple. "I can pick up your thoughts as well. Consider me an upgrade from the Duncan series."

Volker rolled his eyes at the offhanded comment from the rat. "Mr. Montressor is correct. We know about you because you are Chosen. Demens does his homework on people." He eyed the man. "Many visually challenged people carry a small device that leaves their mark. It may be an ink-and-embossing tool or a simply a stamp. But we also accept an X if written in front of witnesses. You and Mr. Hectaros should suffice."

He addressed Flan's prior question while slipping Montressor's lease into an envelope. "You'll save more than worlds, Miss Flan. You'll save it all, if you apply your talents. But you both should be aware that Demens calls more than you. He has Eldritch in his service as well. They are not to be molested, Mr. Montressor. You've agreed to this already, simply by signing."

"Excuse us?" the naked mole rat interrupted. "This is Hectaros, a warrior and newly Chosen like yourself." The rat paused to allow Hectaros to adjust to his mind hearing his native tongue superimposed upon the rat's spoken English. "Hectaros, this is Flan and Montressor."

[Chedastan]

Pavilion

Paper Romulus' previous happy joyful smile towards Nila was suddenly turned to a harrowing face of concern and fear as the arrow flew past her by mere inches, if he had a heart he was certain it would've stopped right there. He would've then screamed something, perhaps for everyone to find cover? And then cover Nila with his body from anymore oncoming shots. But before he could do all that, Nila had already gotten onto his back, he should've remembered that she was fast! At least from there he could at least turn towards where the shot came from, and see where it could've came from.

After a brief moment to analyze where the shot could've come from, he was already able to bark at the Lads to get their asses over there to try and get the son of the bitch. But after a second more, even he could already tell how improbable the shot was, at least by the standards that he would've known. Except maybe something from a few Dark Ops projects gone amok back home, he recalled that the Shades of the Blinking God could evade anything and disappear without a trace. Though he doubted that was anything similar to what they were dealing with now, as for one thing they left a note.

He was disappointed that this much trouble had to happen now, while he was with Nila no less, even his paper self couldn't even catch a break in paradise it seemed. He tried to reach for the note, but the flames from the fire were getting close! He had to pull back to avoid getting burnt anywhere, as he didn't want to find out how expensive it was to make him. But wait, the note! He-

All of a sudden before his paper eyes, a pale looking swimsuit wearing young woman had grabbed the paper for him. Much to his relief, he thanked her greatly for the quick action, and breathed some relief.

Nivea

She managed to have grabbed the note right away as soon as it seemed that the large man couldn't even manage to take the note out himself. What was his problem? He had armor for Gods' sake! Nivea was at least relieved though to have even grabbed the note in time, she wasn't even really sure what was going on about it, but she guessed no one actually did. But it looked quite blatantly obvious that someone shot at them with a bow and arrow with the note attached. So clearly who sent it meant some serious business.

"So should I read it?" She then said as she opened the note anyway to see what it was all about.

[Torrocca]

"Do you suppose that it would be more efficient for everybody if I learned the language?" Hectaros inquired, raising a brow as he took the clipboard into his off-hand and picked up the pen with his dominant. "I mean... if I have urgent information that must be passed along immediately... translating it might be an issue, in respect to haste." He did not look at Hablaratta as he talked, writing his name onto the paper; although the alphabet was different, it was a signature all the same, if someone suspected otherwise. He placed the pen back onto the clipboard and handed both back to Hablaratta, turning to the two fellow newcomers, Flan and Montressor.

Nodding to the both of them, Hectaros gave them a respectful, "my lady; my sir," and removed his helmet, placing it under arm. "As they have said, I am Hectaros Varinos of Eterri Maginestim, Legionary of the Brave Swords Standard of the Eteridone Empire." From the dried blood and dirt still caked on his emotionless, blank face and once-shining armor, the untreated wound on his leg, the bolt still stuck in his breastplate, and the sword and shield carelessly thrown to the ground, it likely came off as unusual that he was being so talkative - after all, it was clear that he was fresh from battle.

1: "Quoarro inquise bunoarro eterris quote te vocebe?"
2: "Seo te... iridante ecsoder vocebe inedaro... inquestere vocobere ere, cobantere inedaro."
3: "Miere te; Miorere te."
4: "Voceberes, te Hectaros Varinos te Eterri Maginestim, Otiente te Seteros Tasaberos Insereba te Evenseba Eteridone."