2856/The Phantom Menace

The Phantom Menace
Date of Scene:	20 August 2015
Location:	Heaven or Hell Tower <HoH>
Synopsis:	Marisa works some magic on something she should probably have left alone. Hey, if risks weren't taken, where's the excitement in life?
Cast of Characters:	253, 829, Wo

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Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber is working the front desk of his own business. It's not an impossible scenario, but as his work piles up and his jobs get more and more hefty, it has become rarer. Today, though, he managed to pick up a desk shift in his building but is managing it with half his attention, the other half being on the piles of work he's usually managing. Right now, for instance, he's trying to use his private funds and accounts to hire a maintenance crew to watch over a submarine for him that won't be on the books.

    Beyond his own activities, it's a pretty slow day in the front lobby of the building. Not a lot of customers coming in or out, despite it being prime in the range of just after lunch, somewhere around the early afternoon. The front door is, of course, unlocked during business hours and anyone peering in the glass can see the half-angel working the front desk while he handles other business.

Marisa Kirisame (829) has posed:
    Marisa Kirisame has had a very fruitful few days. Her little workspace in the study has become littered with a few new pieces of literature, several of which seem to have been lifted from a certain lunar academy. Today, it seems, she's adding to her little collection!

    "Heeey Psyber," Marisa chirps as she strolls past the front desk. There's a sack thrown over her shoulder that is very clearly far too large for her body. She carries it well, though! There's a spring in her step and a grin on her lips. "I'm gonna be doing ~things~ in the archives," she explains, moving over in that direction, "Let me know if the walls start oozin' or something. It's gonna be a fun li'l experiment!"

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Woah woah woah," Psyber holds out a hand to Marisa, waving a bit as she enters the lobby, "I'm invoking landlord rights here," Psyber notes as he points at the bag on her back, "I'm not vetoing you performing experiments, but. BUT." He points at the bag again.

    "If you're going to be running experiments and stashing loot here, I at least wanna make sure you're not bringing in anything I don't want, or that might cause hell to rain down on my office if it gets found here, literally or non-literally." He waves again, "Show me what's in the bag, then I'll let you up no sweat." It's, in all honesty, a fair policy.

Marisa Kirisame (829) has posed:
    Marisa rolls her eyes juuust a bit. "Oh come on, it's just books and stuff I picked up," she says, wandering over to prop open her bag. There are books in there! Some of them are... Chained up. "I'm not doin' anything with the bound ones. So, don't worry. I know enough about openin' those kindsa things up without proper preptime."

    There's other junk in there, too. Various gews and gaws, a familiar-control staff, a few reagents and other things that can feasibly be used in experiment-y things. "Can I go now, ~dad~?"

Psyber (253) has posed:
    The staff catches his eye because it looks familiar, but beyond that he doesn't see anything that would actually STOP him from letting Marisa go upstairs, "Yeah. It all looks fine, I guess," He comments, frowning. He can't shake how familiar that staff looks, though. But he also can't put his finger on why.

    He waves his hand at her, "Go on ahead, do what you need. I'll buzz you on the intercom if you break something down here," Psyber comments as he sets back down into his chair again.

Wo has posed:
    Easily missed, radio news reports sightings of some kind of black, armored drones in the Boston area - apparently not violent, but seeming to be searching for something. That is likely lower on the totem pole of strange things this Boston reports in the news day-to-day, dismissable as just some overzealous snoops that got a hold of a drone fleet somewhere. That is, they're easily missed until one shows up at the glass front of the Heaven or Hell tower, jetting by precariously low, rustling some newspapers and other random debris, before appearing to notice something. It climbs and then banks back down, before coming to a sliding, sparking landing on the street outside. Hopefully the city authority won't mind some deep scratches in the concrete.

    Even though it has no obvious eyes, it almost seems to be looking in, its tongue dangling from behind its one half of a set of jaws, as it begins to buzz and squelch in recognition. It would be quite recognizable as an Abyssal fighter - but what would it be doing here, especially in neutral territory? That wouldn't quite be like Wo, and yet it isn't harassing the citizens, either. Instead it's only 'staring'. Shortly after, the Wo-class does indeed follow it, scooping it up before placing it back into the mouth of her hat - something it's easily as large as, before it begins to be 'digested' back in. "...here..?" Her reverbed voice seems detached, even moreso than usual, almost like she is has been in a trance, and yet also a bit more frantic, even as she stumbles a bit from injury. Since the doors are open, she pushes her way inside with one bruised arm, exposed by a tattered sleeve. Conveniently enough, since she has both hands free, all of a sudden.

Marisa Kirisame (829) has posed:
    "Right," Marisa *~beams~* but with her smile and not with her lasers. This is probably good. "I'll let you know how it turns out! See you in a bit!" With that, the little witch scampers off to the elevator-- and her workshop above.

--SOON--

    That familiar-summoning rod? Yeah, that wasn't a familiar-summoning rod. That was an Abyssal's staff! Marisa has spent the last day or so trying to figure out how to make it go, only to fail to produce results of any kind at all. Even the fairies only followed along for a little bit because they thought it'd be fun to play familiar.

    So, to figure out how this thing actually functions, Marisa has decided to try her hand at ~DIVINATION.~ This is not something Marisa does very often, because divining magics hardly have any sort of flash or pizzaz at all. Plus, doing things that don't blow stuff up usually ends poorly. But she'll try it anyway! She has books to tell her how, so it can't possibly be THAT hard!

    Marisa humms a familiar sea-shanty as she inscribes the magic circle into the floor with a piece of enchanted chalk, copied whole-hog from a nearby tome of divinatory magic that was almost certainly stolen from a library somewhere. The Abyssal Cane rests at its center. The goat's blood is already out in its little dish, poured over some sacred salt, and the crystal ball is nestled in its little nest of divining rope. So now all she has to do is try the incantation.

What could possibly go wrong?!?

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber usually catches news of small aircraft in the city, but also usually files it under his 'probably the Flee Daughters' file. And it was not later to check it, yet, so it had escaped his notice thus far today.

    With the departure of Marisa upstairs, Psyber is already back to work by the time the Wo-Class Carrier walks through his door. She looks different today, like she's missing something from her usual appearance. He has yet to put two and two together, "Oh hey, Wo. What brings you by? Rough deployment?" He asks as she enters.

    "You wanna eat a soda?" He offers as he reaches under the desk and pulls out a cold can of pop, holding it out to Wo in offering, generally pretty happy to see her. "What can I do for you?"

Wo has posed:
    Her behavior is definitely a bit strange. Again, as compared to her already strange baseline, by surface dweller standards. She barely seems to register that Psyber is there, at first, or where she's ended up. Instead she continues lumbering forward, her eyes not really focused on anything in the near environment, halting only for a moment to brace herself against a wall. She's not even taken the time to clean off some errant pieces of seaweed or salt water, a few pieces of which flop to the floor in a trail behind her, along with the wet trail. "It's here," she repeats, emptily. She can sense it readily, though following it and triangulation has been a chore, with how much and how quickly Marisa gets around.

    She finally appears to snap out of it, if only for a moment, eyes moving from unblinking, unresolving port holes to managing to track an amiable half-angel. She lowers her head, scores of superficial damage strikes and burns visible on the surface of her hat in the gesture, as she reaches up a hand to rub at her forehead, "Psy-ber.. No, I.. I don't - have time. I have to find it." She unhelpfully doesn't explain exactly what 'it' is, before she once again begins shambling forward, groping along the corridor, and making her way towards the stairs if left further uninterrupted. Of course, in this state, she likely doesn't mind being followed, either.

Marisa Kirisame (829) has posed:
    The magic circle is drawn. The implements are ready. Marisa shuts the windows and pulls the blinds, she turns the lights down so that only candleflame illuminates the ritual area. "Alright, let's give this a whirl," Marisa says, clearling her throat as she props open one of the larger tomes and carefully turns one of its frail, oversized pages. "Ahem!"

    "Oh great lidless eye, oh eternal watcher beyond the veil," The witch intones, lifting the last candle into place near the crystal ball. "Oh wandering spirits and time-lost shades, reveal to me what I seek." Her finger runs down the lines in the tome as the candles begin flickering-- and changing. From warm firelight, they flicker to a cold blue, then a witchy green, "Iisha iisha yh'a'nu ahlahat pauwel mea--"

This goes on for a while.

It's not particularly interesting...

Until the time it would /become/ interesting

Psyber (253) has posed:
    He's used to Wo's normal demeanor, but this is bizarre even for her. The half-angel stands up and immediately halts all other work when he sees Wo being both injured and dazed. The point that hits him, though, is the phrase 'I don't have time', which is not something he really expects to hear Wo say to him while, you know, actively inside his house. He blinks a few times, oblivious to the blonde-haired source of trouble being behind all this, "Okay, it's here."

    He follows Wo for a few moments until his altruistic nature gets the better of him. Instead of just following her, he swoops down in front of her and hoists her up onto his back, piggy-back style as he grabs her legs, "Alright, if it's here and you need it, I'll help you find it. You point me to where it is and we'll get there," Psyber notes, aiming to carry Wo up the stairs and wherever she points him to. He doesn't even comment about the seawater and seaweed she's soaking into his jacket.

Wo has posed:
    Normally, being carried is something that would be beyond her sense of dignity. The hat, having a somewhat separate inkling of consciousness, does seem to hinge its mouth open in a bit of surprise. But Wo herself continues to seem to be minimally aware; it's likely just the imagination, but she could almost seem to be thoroughly depressed, for whatever reason. Likely linked to whatever this is that she's suddenly searching for. Slumping a bit lifelessly in Psyber's hold, she nonetheless points up the stairs, another piece of sea debris slipping off the oustretched arm. An exact location is difficult, but she can definitely sense the general direction. "Up there," she mumbles, "...my body." That's definitely an unusual expression. Certainly she is a ghost...kind of thing, but noone could have smuggled the wreck of a carrier into Heaven or Hell.

    Then again, most people aren't Marisa Kirisame.

    Rituals of divination on objects like this can be difficult to predict, ironically. Revealing the nature of such objects can lead to many surprises. Nonetheless, the black and white-clad witch has this time hit a stroke of luck, though perhaps not in the sense she would have wanted. It is not, precisely, for familiar control, but her ritual does strike a chord with some otherworldly power after all, attached to the object. One that is more than willing to make itself heard. A vision begins to take shape, apparently from the general aura around the staff, and in a way, it almost seems like the sea-corroded steel gains a newfound resilience. The spectre that hovers over it is that of a young woman, though details are difficult to resolve, given the glow and incomplete nature of the artifact from which she is projecting. "...I'm awake," she wonders? "But - who are you, and what is this place?"

Marisa Kirisame (829) has posed:
    Oh! Oh holy crap the ritual actually worked! And nothing blew up even a little bit! Marisa grins at the glowing shade manifesting out from the mysterious staff. "W-wow, I wasn't actually expecting someone I could straight up talk to. Uh-ahem!" She coughs into a fist, then grins up at the spirit, her eyes shine with an inquisitive gleam that overwhelms even the ghastly candlelight.

    "I'm Marisa Kirisame, nice to meet you!" Marisa says, introducing herself to the spectre. "You're currently in the archives of the Heaven or Hell offices! It's where I keep my secondary workshop, you see. Much more convenient to come here than to go all the way back to the Forest of Magic and stuff, and I'm rambling."

    "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay!" She chirps, her good nature is positively infectious. The fact that she's summoned a ~spirit from the other side~ doesn't seem to bother her much. It's a floating, glowing, transparent girl, after all. That describes quite a few people Marisa knows. "Firstly, who are you- do you have a name I can call you by? Secondly, what is that staff I summoned you from, exactly? And third, what do you want to do now that you're awake?"

It's always good to ask that last one. Nips certain things in the bud.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Wait a second..."

    WAAAAAAAIT A SECOND.

    Psyber recognizes this floor, even while damp and carrying an aircraft carrier on his back. The floor Wo is pointing at is... the library. Psyber immediately goes from a scowl, to anger, back down to his calm demeanor, "Alright, Wo. Up there, we're on it. Gonna get you there, yeah, just hold on to me."

    He will aim to take Wo up the stairs on his back and right into the library, potentially causing some thematically appropriate dramatic interruptions as enters the room, "Hey Marisa, I think one of your artifacts is fucking up my friend here."

    He gestures a thumb to Wo, before kind of pausing as he sees the current setup in the library, with a ghostly apparition and all.

Wo has posed:
    "Kirisame, huh. So you're Japanese." The ghost that appeared to answer the summons trails off a bit, at that, but given only the faintest trace of actual facial features can be seen, it's hard to say what that means. Nonetheless, she moves on, eager for interaction after decades of dreaming. "Does the Doolittle Raid mean anything to you, Marisa," comes the quizzical voice of the phantom, responding to the first question with one of her own? It seems more playful than boastful, though. Instead of playing keepaway, though, she continues with a combined answer to both of the first questions, "Hornet! Of the Yorktown class of aircraft carriers. That hunk of metal you've got there, that used to be a piece of me." She drifts down a bit from where she was hovering, to actually brush an incorpereal hand across it, "Not much to look at now, am I? Heh..." To other points, a vague gesture that might be a shaking of the head - though the profile does reveal a long tendril of hair swinging, perhaps a ponytail. "Heaven or Hell, Forest of Magic. Never heard of either--"

    Before much more, Psyber and the Wo-class find their way in. The more physically manifest carrier didn't offer much more than she had to Psyber when directing him to where to go, instead sort of along for the ride. The closer they had gotten to the door, though, he could have felt her body tensing up. And a slight trembling, as she curls up her body. What is this feeling of dread? When they emerge upon the ritual in progress, that much soon becomes clear. Wo stares for a good few moments, saying her Abyssal class designation in confusion, as the ghost appears to turn to regard the newcomers, as well. Wo's confused expression twists uncertainly, before her mouth bites down, normally unseen fangs emerging to chomp into her lip, "Wo!!!" Unless something is done to stop her quickly, she will actually begin firing lasers out of her defensive batteries at the ghost - though at worst she will only flicker slightly. Regardless, she tsks to the Abyssal, "Is this face that ugly to you? It was yours, after all."

Marisa Kirisame (829) has posed:
    "Yeah, that's right. Though the part of Japan I'm from hasn't actually been connected to the rest for... over a century, now. A long, long time." Gensokyo has been around for a while- longer than Marisa can remember, certainly. Yakumo probably knows the exact date of its creation, and Marisa knows around when it was split off, but not that precisely. Marisa appears to be pretty well-taken with the spectre, and takes a seat on the floor just outside of the summoning circle, peering up at the ghost almost like a child would to a teacher. "I'm guessing the Doolittle Raid was something that happened in your history," the witch shakes her head, "Sorry, we've been pretty isolated from the outside world. It's complicated. But..."

    Marisa grins, "Hornet! Ohh, you're one of the American ships! I heard about you guys, did a bit of reading after I met the Japanese ones. I guess it'd make sense that you all would have spirits, too, but you're the first American one I've ever met." The others haven't awakened yet, for some reason. "I guess that rod isn't a Familiar-Commanding Staff at all then, huh?"

And then, Psyber.

Marisa gives him a grin that suggests that she isn't particularly bothered by his complaint. "Oh shush, I'm sure it's fffffff---"

Wo.

    "What's she doing here!?" The witch scrambles up to her feet and points accusingly at the Abyssal. Her Hakkero may be involved. "Psyber, you know this girl? How? And whaddya mean it's fucking her up--" LASERS!? Possibly!? "Woah, woah! Calm down! I'll give it back when I'm done, just..."

Beat.

Her eyes turn back up towards the ghost. "...Are you sayin' that you and she are... The same person, or something? The same ship?"

Psyber (253) has posed:
    There's a LOT all going on at once and Psyber is trying to manage most of it. Psyber's first and primary concern is the Wo-class, though he does overhear certain words, like 'Hornet'. But he'll ask later, because right now he needs to stop Wo from blowing up his office and firing on members of his business.

    "WO!" Psyber shouts, trying to stop her from firing by restraining her as best he can so she can't vector her targets and let loose with an attack. That's the stop-gap measure, because his actual appeal to her is verbal. Sharply, he shouts again, "WO-CLASS. You are a peace-keeping vessel deployed in neutral territory! You have a DUTY to restrain yourself," He commands firmly, trying to appeal to her basic instincts through her haze and rage.

    He manages to spare a glance over to Marisa, "She's my FRIEND. Is that her staff? You really should give it back. It's upsetting her not to have it. And I think hurting her too." He comments as he tries to keep Wo calm, or at least return her to a subdued state, "Who the hell is that?" He waves at the girl briefly, even though he suspects her identity, "Wait no..."

    His conclusion is the same as Marisa's, "You're her. Who she was... who she should be..." He stares in a bit of awe for a few moments.

Wo has posed:
    It is, admittedly, quite a lot to process. For one thing, there is some weird ritual going on, but that is oddly the least strange happening. And, likely, the ghost would have emerged even if Marisa had just asked nicely, given the ambient power of this kind of place. Regardless, in the here and now, the Wo-class is absolutely disturbed by this turn of events. Psyber's intervention does at least partially disperse the beams, to where they do minimum damage to his nice office furniture. Those scorch marks of stored up despair and hatred on the bookshelves will buff right out, certainly. It's only when Marisa speaks up that she becomes aware of her presence, too. If looks alone could kill, Marisa would this very moment have to busy herself re-gathering her dropped power, because she finally has an expression - raw anger. It's only with Psyber's continued talking her down that she seems to calm, but her normally passive, turquoise eyes still burn a golden amber. "Neutral -- territory... That's right, Boston..." While she doesn't need to breathe, she nonetheless heaves one anyway, her face beginning to soften. Though she still turns away from the apparition, as recovering her faculties this close to her precious staff, she's become more aware of her surroundings, as well.

    "Should be," the ghost wonders? "Hmm. Maybe." It's a very noncommital answer to Psyber's proposal, at any rate. "It doesn't seem that she -- that I -- am ready to accept everything that happened, though." There is a trace of deep regret there, as she once again traces an apparenty gloved fingertip on that shank of precious, corroded steel. "And, don't be so harsh on Marisa here," she also requests, vague face somehow appearing to form a smile, "She couldn't have known what she was doing. And this sort of reckless behavior is sometimes necessary to get things done." With that, though, she gives another seeming headshake to Marisa, and a shrug of the shoulders, "Nope, no familiar control. Carriers do that on their own. I guess you could say that certain instruments help, though, for...'visualization'?" Long story short, then, for Marisa it's likely to be just a length of rusty metal. Nonetheless, if allowed, she reaches over to ruffle a hand over Marisa's bangs, apparently not caring that she can't actually physically interact like that: "Most of us are still asleep, I think. Or...in complicated situations." Case in point.

    "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I've caused enough trouble for one day. Call me up again if something happens." With this, unless any more questions are demanded of her, she begins disipating back into the staff, causing it to glow before it once again grows dormant. It is only after all of this that the Wo-class dares turn to approach it. "...don't - say anything," she utters in her, once more, normally relaxed near-monotone. "In-side, I already...knew. From - that day, with the plane." If not otherwise kept from it, then, she retrieves her staff from its place among Marisa's ritual apparatus, regarding her with turquoise eyes, and then Psyber, "May-be, someday... But... I won't abandon, my sisters." A slight fidget, and a glance away, "...don't tell...any-one. They wouldn't...under-stand." Samar might send her off to be reprogrammed or something.

Marisa Kirisame (829) has posed:
    "You have a really weird collection of friends," Marisa says to her bossman... from the floor, because she ducked to avoid a stray hate-laser. "Yeah that's her staff. I thought it was some kind of control rod for those familiars she shoots outta her hat, so I wanted to study it to see if I could replicate the effects! But it's not, so she can have it back no problem."

Would she have kept it if it was that?

Well, she IS a thief after all.


    "So it's like she's got a ghost-grudge or somethin'?" The witch asks of the rod's animating spirit. "That's... Interestin'. Probably worth lookin' into, anyway. Might be able to find more of you guys--"

    Then there is a ghost, petting her head. Marisa blinks, staring through her spectral fingertips. Her gaze gets a bit... wistful, somehow. "...Yeah. If nobody tried anything risky, life would go nowhere, right?" She chuckles, shoving her hands into the pockets of her dress. "But, uh. What will happen now? I've woken you up with the ritual, but it's not a permanent thing... Unless there were side effects. Will you be back?"

    The spectre fades, giving its answer or not. Marisa shakes her head and hop-skips ahead of Wo to snatch the rod back out of the divining circle... Only to press it into the zombie-ship's hands with a grin. "Sorry about that! I wouldn't'a taken it if I knew it was something that important. Don't you worry, your secret's safe with us! Though uh. I dunno what I should call you, considering... Hornet, and all."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    There's a lot of thoughts in Psyber the ghost brings up. A lot of doubts and a lot of fears, too, admittedly. And it's those thoughts that Psyber concerns himself with over the scorches on his furniture and the minimal damage Wo caused. Marisa caused tenfold as much during her first trip, and Psyber had already forgiven her for it.

    'So that's her...'
    'I wonder. If Wo becomes her, will she remember me?'

    "If you ever come back, I'm Psyber. I'm Wo's friend," He says to the ghost, guessing her name from earlier contexts, "Goodbye for now... Hornet." Psyber murmurs as he watches the ghost vanish. He looks around the room at the two girls, particularly as Marisa gives back the staff.

    "For now... call her Wo. That's her name, anyway, more or less. She said she wanted to keep the Hornet stuff a secret, and I respect the need for people to have their secrets," He comments as he starts to take off his soaking wet coat so he can drape it on a coat hanger, "Marisa, can I trust you not to talk about this to anyone? This is a top-level office secret, right now. No one but you or I has this information."

Wo has posed:
    A lot of questions are left unanswered, some voiced and many others not. There is an inkling feeling, though that that ghost might appear again one day, in some circumstance. She herself had said to call on her again if something happens, right? The library is relatively still, now, except the various occult apparatus, and Wo seems to be at peace now that she has her staff back. If Marisa had tried to keep it, it might have been another matter. As her more passive and non-threatening nature sets in, though, there is a curiosity duality, compared to how she had reacted when the ghost was manifest. "...she's asleep," Wo confirms, just in case Marisa or Psyber had any doubts, "But - she can hear." Who knows. Maybe she just thought it would be funny to respond to someone's ouija boarding. She does openly stare at the witch girl, but doesn't seem to be angry now, at least, not even over being blasted by a pair of super rainbow lasers.

    "Wo," she states plainly. "Until...my work - is over. 'Hor-net', is not...some-thing I go by." While her face remains passive, her eyebrows furrow with that. She then turns to Psyber, specifically, and lowers her head in his direction, "...thank you - for the, help. And - your dis-cretion." It's not just Samar, either. If the fleet daughters were to get word, they might make all the wrong assumptions. That would become annoying. "Ma-risa," she also directly addresses. "...the captain, of the con-voy, also sends his -- re-gards." Remembering something, she rummages around in her cape, before withdrawing an old chronometer and tossing it accurately toward her. Inscribed is a message of thanks 'for livening up a boring cargo run' and an invitation to come visit, sometime.

Marisa Kirisame (829) has posed:
    "Right, Wo then," Marisa gives a firm nod. Seems sensible. After all, calling her Hornet would sort of violate some kind of Top Level Office Secret NDA she was probably signed up for. "I won't tell anyone about Hornet, don't worry," she nods to psyber. "Everyone's got their things they need to hide, for one reason or another. I'm sure she'll turn up again if she wants to, when she thinks she should."

Which, hopefully, won't be in an inconvenient place or at an inconvenient time.

    But then!! Wo throws Marisa a THING! The witch snatches it deftly out of the air, and peers briefly at the object in her hands. "This is..." She furrows her brows, "Wow, this is a really nice watch, actually. Old, but it's still in pretty great condition." It seems she knows a thing or two about antiques. The witch examines the inscription as soon as she notices it, and smirks. "The deal was just for his hat, too. I guess I should pay those guys a visit the next time they're at sea. Heh." Wo gets something in return for a job well done, too! That something is a grin that could only be called 'invincible,' "Thanks, Wo! I appreciate the message."