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Kale Hearthward	This is an expedition to a world removed from our own. A neighborhood where the inhabitants live forever. That's all it is. A simple expedition to lands unknown. A scouting mission. Maybe just like, a little bit of tourism. Get in, look around, get out. Nothing complicated. No chance for complications. ... Yeah. Right. You can't head down the block to get milk and bread without some stuff happening to you or around you, can you? This is the third Absolute Truth: Adventure Finds You. Case in point, you literally can't go twenty steps in before you stumble on a banjo frog and a weird puppet (both non-copyright infringing) and asked to do a thing. Literally twenty steps. You haven't even made it to the first real area yet, this is basically the foyer. ... Oh, right. Probably, we should rewind the clock just a little bit before we resume. Starting with... --- The two groups join back up at the site Kale had in mind, to complete the connection to the Everhood... ... A process that involves going into a low-oeuvre area first. An area with nothing description-worthy. There's wheat. Just... endless fields of wheat. None of it's picturesque, none of it's thought-provoking. Everyone (except probably Angela, who's observing this remotely) can actually feel something draining from them. A sort of... essential creative need, a desire to make a mark on the world, that's not just being unfulfilled but is being steadily *negatively* fulfilled. Madeleine by then would be doing her photography project, or something similar, with specific direction from Kale in following the creativity ritual - bringing a burst of fresh oeuvre into the area, and causing a faint shimmering door to appear, which Xion can stabilize and open... ... leading into an area that's... practically entirely *absent* of oeuvre. The walls, floors, and sky (or is that a ceiling?) are black, in an uninteresting way. There's simply an absence of anything, except not in any notable sense. There just ain't anything worthwhile here, besides the door behind the group and a brick path leading forward. And, shortly down the path, a frog, sitting on a log, strumming a banjo, next to a red doll. "Ah," says the frog, looking up. "Visitors. Could I ask you for a favor?" He gestures to the person-sized red wooden doll next to him. "My friend here has lost their arm." Indeed, the doll is missing an arm. "It was stolen by a blue thief who ran that way. Unfortunately, they're unable to fight back if someone were to attack them, which makes getting their arm back a bit of a problem..." "If you're heading forward, would you mind if my friend accompanied you? ... Of course, I wouldn't ask you to help for free..." The frog tunes his guitar. "I'd be glad to answer any questions you may have. After all, you wouldn't want to take this journey unprepared." The brick path ahead leads: Forward. In the distance you see: more path.
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan slowly spins around in a circle as he looks around, pushing out eagerly ahead of everyone. "Oh THIS is where we are going?! I don't have the clothes for this!" He pats himself down, opening up his bag. He pulls out a brush from the bag and quickly starts combing out his tail. A run of the brush down through his hair, trying to get it into some form. He ruffles through his bag again, shuffling medical supplies aside. He briefly looks at a mascara tube, then tosses back in. This is fine, right? Half a year, half a year thinking of this place. Half a year of wild tumultous feelings caused by a single visit to this place bubbling up again. Is this where everything changes? Do I want that anymore? "Visitors. Could I ask you for a favor?" A breath. Focus. Aidan digs his claws into his palms again, using the sharp pain to drown out intrusive thoughts. Seeing the frog again does get an honest smile on Aidan's face and he waves his hand back and forth over his head. "Hey! Good to see you again! Of course we can help!" Notably, Aidan doesn't ask questions about the place in a rush, instead smiling over at the red wooden doll who does not live in a forest maze. "Oh, hey, what's your name? I'm Aidan Proudpick, pleased to meetcha."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Visitors. Could I ask you for a favor?"     Madeleine looks at the frog like it's got three heads. She's not surprised that it talks and plays the banjo - no, her confusion is at its assumption that a group of heavily armed strangers are here to dispense favors. She's building up to a "...No?" when the frog launches into an explanation of its predicament. The huntress taps her foot impatiently, waiting for the creature to get to its point.     "Of course, I wouldn't ask you to help for free..."     "Oh, well, that's more like it," Madeleine comments aloud. "Sure, we can haul your friend around with us. But that's no promise we'll get her arm back or anything. Are you from the, uh, 'Everhood'? Can you point us the way there?
Calvin Nash	STARTING WITH...     The ritual to resupply the ambient oeuvre is prefaced with an itch in the skin, for Calvin. He's never particularly felt the urge to create, always being driven and moved by the need to see; to experience, to see the differences between himself in another person or another place. Still, even the uncreative are drawn sometimes to the simple joy of a stick figure, or the connection of carving initials.     To feel that urge be deprived, as one might feel the gnawing advance of hunger or thirst, is unfamiliar even to someone unaccustomed to indulging it in the first place. He fills it with conversation aimed at those not involved in the ritual.     "Damn, girl," says Calvin, to Petra, with an air of genuine concern that underlines how oblivious he's capable of being. "Somebody dusted you up good. How'd that happen?" He was literally five feet from her when it happened, with his back turned, half-seriously threatening to turn on a fire hose if Madeleine didn't shotgun her mixed drink. "You want, I can fix that up for you." DOWN THE PATH...     Calvin's sunglasses had come off earlier, when he was meeting everyone in town. There's little reason for them to go back on in here, this place with its black walls, floors and sky(?). The pointedly nondescript environment is something utterly alien to Calvin--no trees, no insects, no sign that this place has people or even life of any kind in it but the door behind them, the brick path below, and...     The faint, punchy tenor of banjo strings. Visitors. Could I ask you for a favor?     "Yessir."     Calvin's entire demeanor changes, his posture straightening up, blue eyes locked on the frog, legs spaced evenly apart, thumbs hooked through his beltloops just as before--showing that he's in charge of the situation, before he even knows what it is, like a dog hearing its name called. It was stolen by a blue thief who ran that way.     His right arm is lifted, and he flips open the monitor of that bulky wrist-mounted computer. Even as he types one-handed notes that crawl in green across the black screen, his posture remains a statue's affect; immovable, enduring, yet undeniably, provably adopted the moment someone expressed a need, rather than a natural resting state. I'd be glad to answer any questions you may have. After all, you wouldn't want to take this journey unprepared.     "No, sir, I wouldn't. Your friend can come along with us if they wanna. That's no problem--they'll be in good hands. I'd like to ask y'all a few questions about this thief. The clearer a picture you give me, the sooner we can find 'em, get your friend's arm back, and get 'em what they need so they don't feel like they gotta steal no more."     "Let's start with 'blue.' That mean they *was* blue, or just wearing it? 'Bout how tall are they? How big? Anything besides 'blue' that'd help pick 'em out of a crowd?" Each answer given is tapped into the COMP with businesslike detachment, verbal and physical nods.     Even if there's not too clear a picture to be painted, Calvin offers genuine thanks for the information. "Thank y'much," he offers with a nod, closing the COMP and returning both hands to his beltloops. Are you from the, uh, 'Everhood'? Can you point us the way there?     Calvin wags an index at Madeleine--not in a chiding way, in a 'good idea' way. "How many folks you get passing through here, do you figure?"
Futaba Nuki	Wheat's food, and Futaba is all about trying new things. To date, she has yet to actually eat wheat right off the stalk, and the field full of it turns out to be a little exciting for her! ... Right up until she actually chews on some of it. "Doesn't taste anything like the bread..." She mutters briefly as she forces herself to finish the rest of that stalk she's got in her hand. She's not going to waste the fruits of someone's labor, after all, and she even leaves some coins behind in case they notice that one's missing. The area with actual nothing in it, though, has her reaching into her pouch for her trusty flaming katana of light-emitting.  She holds it up to see if that helps make it easier for herself and her companions to see around themselves, and she keeps it aloft even when they reach the banjo-playing frog. "Isn't that just a fight? Unless your friend didn't notice the..." She pantomimes popping her arm off,  but avoids going for the obvious visual gag of actually taking her own arm off. "I don't really mind you comin' along if nobody else does, although if it's a fight you think we're gonna get into..." The tanuki pauses to tap her chin, looking over at Madeleine with a snicker before nodding at Calvin in approval. "Knowing that kinda stuff would be a big help, yeah! And.. How'd they do it, anyway? It's pretty hard taking an arm without anyone noticing, so..." Her gaze drifts over to the doll, as though she's actually expecting an answer from the doll rather than the frog.
Sarracenia	Calvin asks about Petra's injury, and Sarracenia gives him a slight incredulous look. "...did...did you really not see?" She knows he was busy drinking and carrying on, but seriously how do you not notice someone getting face-slammed and dragged off?      A massive wheat field is usually a crossroads of some kind. At least according to the books and shows Sarra has read. This one though...this one offers little in the way of choices. The feeling of losing her desire to make a mark on the world...well, that is just a repeat of what happens to Sarra when she ends up somewhere quiet after she has been told how terrible or forgettable or inept or any of the other things people tell her she is.      Which, results in the princess getting very quiet and her posture drooping from her usual proud and tall stance. It is quite obvious to anyone who looks at her, and she makes no effort to hide the depressed feeling.      "You are excited to be in this place? It feels so...bad." she says to Aidan as he twirls and looks around eagerly. She gives him a confused and somewhat annoyed look. He's grooming himself like he is going to a fancy ball...and they are just entering an empty wheat field with a really long path.      The prospect of a heroic quest raises Sarra's spirits a bit. She manages a small smile after listening to the request. And the whimsical nature of a frog on a log strumming on a banjo is also helpful.      She blinks at Futaba just chomping a stalk of wheat, then giggles a bit. "It takes quite a bit more preparation for wheat to be made into something tasty or actually even edible."      She then peers at the doll. "Can your...friend...walk? Or talk? Or will they need to be carried?"
Xion	Travelling to a 'low-oeuvre' area was an interlude that Xion got a little strange about, despite her professed experience in areas exactly like it. Joining Madeleine and Kale in waiting briefly for the rest of the group, her outfit has shifted completely. From street-casual aesthetic blacks - belted black jeans, checkered Converse, black cloth tank top and leather motorcycle-style jacket - she had traded the whole outfit out in an animation error of inventory gear-shifting. Now, in a long and slightly reflective black coat with silver draws and metal bobs that covers her from hood to just short of her black booted toes, the Nobody's shaded eyes rest hidden beneath the protective layer of her magic clothes. The draining ennui had been instantly too much for Xion to stand. "This place doesn't feel. . . empty." the hooded Nobody had announced, lifting black-gloved hand slowly from her side. "It's worse than empty. It's 'not'. Kale," They had not turned, with her almost-question, 'staring' straight ahead. "Are you sure this will be all right?" Despite how emptily-neutral the Nobody's tone was, the clear expectation was that before the end of things: it almost certainly wouldn't be. With the impression-of-a-path-or-door before the party, a soft 'shwink!' of sparkles and the soft sussuration of a chain falling against itself while a slightly different Keyblade fell into gloved left hand. Tooth like a reversed crown and keychain charm similar, the simple Starlight-like grip is yellow instead of blue, and hums with a different tenor than her usual sword. Still, like one might expect, when the coated Xion shifts blade-tip to point at the door and moves from one loose handhold to two fists gripping black hilt, there's a distant sound -- Not the usual click, but a scrape of metal-against metal. The tip of the Kingdom Key wavers and searches, searching for a lock, the pit and angle to push. Finally, a pale light beams out from the tip, striking a door-or-analogue, and the way opens! And then there's nothing particular at all and the hooded Nobody would blend in were it not for the light-source disrespecting constant sheen of the coat and the silver defining her centerline. Approaching the frog in the middle of the group, lightly swinging the Kingdom Key over her left shoulder to balance it there, the Nobody listens first to the frog, her hooded nongaze peering left, and then right while Calvin and the others get more specific details. The Nobody has only one question for the frog: "Have you seen anyone like Kale, here?", she asks, while pointing at Kale with hand (and not key-sword).
Petra Soroka	>None of it's picturesque, none of it's thought-provoking. Everyone (except probably Angela, who's observing this remotely) can actually feel something draining from them. A sort of... essential creative need, a desire to make a mark on the world, that's not just being unfulfilled but is being steadily *negatively* fulfilled.     Petra has unlocked a new insult: Low-Oeuvre!     "Dang, did we really need to trek all the way out here just for that? I mean, if we wanted a bland, mind-numbing wasteland, we could've just stuck to the broadband." Petra smugly gives the Eggpack a fist bump.     Leaving Niko and WorldMachine behind with their fight resolved... poorly, didn't feel great for Petra. Obviously, before leaving the village, she pulled Felia aside to actually update her about the situation, because only a sociopath-- only a sociopath who isn't effortfully dedicated to the concept of children's well-being would discuss a (computer)child's future without mentioning anything to their mom. At least, not when the mom isn't likely to cause problems, which Felia and Daelia probably aren't.     After telling her Worldy's decision-- something she gripes a bit about, but can't argue with being valid-- she's got an entire process to go through to make this as okay as something not-really-okay can be. One of her many spare flip phones, carried ever since Meika needed one, is handed over so that Petra can get in contact with her about plans for Worldy's living situation once she figures something out, and to give Niko a method to contact them after they leave. Pence's hook is quickly augmented with a little phone cable to link them up, so that a phone call can be routed through Pence's microphone and speakers. And lastly, gathered up after Petra read out Kale's letter saying they'd be visiting Niko-- she hands over a bunch of concession snacks in the hopes of mollifying the kids' moods enough that they can apologize to each other before Worldy leaves.     And also, there's a mission or something?     Petra can't actually shrug off the feeling of absence past the portal, despite her familiarity with the environment; maybe instead *because* of it. She wraps her arms around herself as if she needs to hold tight to not dissolve into the creative vacuum, lips twisted in a pout, sticking close not just to Cinder (and, of course, Angela on her back), but the entire group as a whole, practically bumping shoulders. Even Sarracenia isn't passively repulsing Petra from entering her physical bubble like usual, though she still can't stand being too close to Aidan.
Petra Soroka	"Somebody dusted you up good. How'd that happen?"     Petra, adorned with new under-eye bruises and a bandage across her nose from being pounded into the bar, stares at Calvin uncomprehendingly for a bit. It's not hard for someone with average awareness (so, not Calvin) to notice why-- these new bruises are only the new*est*, with purpling and scabbing of various ages patterning her neck and down below the neckline of her shirt, where the leather collar doesn't cover them. She scrunches up her nose in confusion, which actually helps, because doing that hurts like a bitch.     "Oh. What? Wasn't it your fucking bar, dude?" Obviously Calvin didn't own it, but he's the Named Character of the settlement, and thus everything within it is his. She's a little nasally, for visible reasons. "It's fine. This stuff heals naturally, my face almost never gets busted up anyways." "Visitors. Could I ask you for a favor?"     "Oh, frog." Petra says that like it's a name. Surely, it can't be a name. "It's been, like, five minutes, so I think we're due for doing someone a random favor, sure." "I'd be glad to answer any questions you may have. After all, you wouldn't want to take this journey unprepared."     Everyone else has questions, except for Aidan, who's stupid, so Petra patiently listens to answers while they're exchanged, gradually squinting in confusion as she processes the words. "... Okay, but, by 'take this journey', it doesnt sound like you mean just getting your friend's arm back? You sound like you have an idea of *why* we'd be moving forwards besides just helping him, so what is it?"     After a beat, Petra remembers other lore, and just blurts out a question raw with no lead-up. "Also, are you immortal?"     She also takes out Twopence from her compact mirror, plucking the ratbot out of Qetra's emerging hand and then flipping the mirror closed on top of her. This is an important option for carrying the doll, and Petra doesn't think about how terribly creepy that'll look until she's already offered.
Angela	Angela is listless after learning that 'Worldy' is still unconvinced of their personhood and intends to leave a comfortable family life for some vague 'bigger purpose' that they aren't feeling. She has lost all interest in The Everhood and whatever is going on there. What is even the purpose of her going to this world? Just to be with Petra? That's plenty of reason in of itself, of course, but she has been feeling the frustration of the limits of the Eggpack more and more now that she is geting closer and closer to her goal. It has its charm, of course--heck she wouldn't mind Eggpacking around sometimes even after she's free if Petra were amenable. But what exactly is she doing here? What is she hoping to do, or gain? Assistance with Meltdowns has plateaued and going out to send continued aid is starting to have diminishing returns. Maybe she should call all the team back for the remainder? ... But she does ... like SEEING other worlds. ...But wouldn't she prefer to start seeing them first with her own eyes? She supposes that in a multiverse those possibilities are endless but some things will appear enough the same regardless. Experiences may be infinite but first time experiences are not. It's this mindset that she's grappling with when she sees a frog on a log. The frog is strumming a banjo. ANGELA'S MOOD HAS INCREASED. "What payment are you speaking of? Answers to questions that merely serve to help your goal? That is not exactly payment, that's Training. Hod's department." Hod pokes her head in and says, "Oh my gosh--is that a frog on a log playing a banjo?? CUUUUUTE." Angela pushes Hod's head out of frame. "Finish compiling your report, Hod." ''But that's no promise we'll get her arm back or anything.'' "'Their' arm, Madeleine." Angela chides before looking back to the doll. "..Yes?" She does also feel some affinity for dolls but that affinity isn't strictly positive. ''Petra smugly gives the Eggpack a fistbump.'' Angela fistbumps Petra back loyally without thinking twice. Cinder, without too much resilience to mental assault, feels a little uneasy but can't seem to place it or articulate it. Negative Creativity is a bit beyond what her typical breadth of her pyramid of needs. "Couldn't we just get them a prosthetic arm? ... I guess if it's like the train it just doesn't work like that but uh--is that doll even alive?" Angela looks at Cinder but pushes down the sudden irritation. It's stupid, she knows. Instinctive feelings like that. She listens to Xion speak about a place being ''not'' and if Xion says it, it must be true, but it doesn't seem immediately relevant to the task a frog is giving them. She doesn't comment on Petra's injuries, intentionally. She lets out a heavy sigh completely unrelated to the location and mission.
Kale Hearthward	> "Are you sure this will be all right?" There's a pause from Kale. "I..." "... I mean, it can't be *that* dangerous or deadly here," he says, which isn't really answering Xion's question. > "Hey! Good to see you again!" "Ah - you were here for the last time..." > "Have you seen anyone like Kale, here?" The frog's eyes track over towards Kale. "Yes, actually - the only other person to come through here, in... a few years, at least. You asked me to step out for a... tutorial session." "That was another me," says Kale. "From the future. I think." "Ah, yes, you had mentioned something like that. In any case, you can just call me Frog." And thus Petra's racism is reinforced. > "Are you from the, uh, 'Everhood'? Can you point us the way there?" "Straight ahead, follow the path," says Frog. "Pathways can be a little bit limited here, but you'll get there." Calvin asks his questions. "They're wearing blue, they're about knee high, and are mostly head," says Frog. He strums once, testing his tuning. "And carrying a large burlap sack, as any Thief does." > "Isn't that just a fight? Unless your friend didn't notice the..." > "Can your...friend...walk? Or talk? Or will they need to be carried?" "My friend here hadn't woken up yet," says Frog, with an odd intonation on 'woken up'. "It was simply a matter of taking it and then running. To what purpose or to where, I cannot tell you." The doll... stares back at Futaba. There's a light behind their eyes, and they move slightly - inclining their head down, and then back up, in a nod. They seem quite capable of movement. > "You sound like you have an idea of *why* we'd be moving forwards besides just helping him, so what is it?" "I'm assuming... momentum. Outsiders coming here, I'm doubting you're going to just step on through, take a quick look around, and then leave." "Of course, the door is back the way you came, if I'm wrong." LEAVE?         > YES<        > NO < > "What payment are you speaking of? ... that's Training." "Just that. If you're dissatisfied with that exchange..." Frog holds out the banjo, handle-first, towards Angela-Tablet (and/or whoever's holding it). "This will provide some more concrete help than questions, perhaps. I have others."
Futaba Nuki	"Yeah, but the folks in those movies do it all the time." Futaba replies to Sarracenia with a grin as she flips what's left of the stalk around to hold it between her teeth. There's a pause as she realizes that probably would've looked way better if she hadn't already eaten so much of it already, and then she just resumes gnawing on the rest. While she does that, she also notices (partially thanks to Calvin) that Petra's got all those new wounds. She whistles lightly with the wheat in her teeth, pausing momentarily to do it again just to make sure she got it right, then finally speaks again. "You really got pounded hard, huh? Dang, hope you gave it back at least half as good as you got it." She comments, chuckling lightly without knowing a single thing about the context behind any of it. Cinder asks about the doll's aliveness, and Futaba looks over at at the doll again, just like before when she was expecting an answer. "A prosthetic's not the same, though, y'know? Like... It's not YOURS the same way if you got someone else's arm after your own got chopped off, even if the size and the shape all match up right." "My friend here hadn't woken up yet," "It was simply a matter of taking it and then running. To what purpose or to where, I cannot tell you." "Dang. So we're going in blind other than knowing what our little thief looks like." Futaba furrows her brow as she notices the doll staring back at her and even moving, nodding in return once she's sure she isn't seeing idle wind movement. "Alright, that should help us out plenty. But I bet we could really figure this out better if..." Futaba starts transforming herself, trying to match herself up as best she can with the description Calvin's been given. She starts with a blue cloak-ish thing that's not too dissimilar from what the doll is wearing now, then adjusts her proportions rapidly until she's more head than torso and limbs. "This anything close to our culprit?" She asks while still transforming, making her head a little bigger there, then shorter there, then shrinking her arms to try and create a better visual for their would-be-thief's own shape based on the frog's answers. "Dunno how a banjo's gonna help us, but I appreciate it! We'll take good care of it, don't you worry. You gonna wait here for us, or do you want to meet up somewhere in that Everhood or wherever?"
Angela	Angela ... actually feels pretty good at receiving a banjo from a frog. It's just magical enough, like a swan suddenly showing up at your windowsill and offering you a silk handkerchief. "Very well, we will help recover the arm." Angela says, since she also doesn't really feel the need to demand too muchy for labor she already feels a complicated connection to. The musical instrument she trained on is a violin rather than a banjo but there's enough similarities that she thinks she can fenagle it. She performs some experimental thrums while looking offscreen at another window as she rapidly informs herself of the basics of banjo playing since the similarities are still pretty far from being ''exactly'' the same. ANGELA'S MOOD HAS INCREASED AGAIN. SOMETHING MIGHT BE WRONG. Cinder sees the doll moving and lets out a small gasp, "Oh gosh--they are alive! Yeah! Let's help them!" Cinder isn't sure how a banjo is going to help either-- But Angela is particularly dreading that this might mean that Aidan was correct about dancing being upcoming. Not really because of 'dancing' so much as she dislikes it when someone she doens't like is correct about something. It's not as if she's going to be doing the dancing. She strums an exprimental G Chord, first in arpeggio form then in its completed state.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"'Their' arm, Madeleine."     "Oh, right. Uh, sorry," Madeleine mumbles. Then, speaking to Frog again: "Okay so, this place has a frog, a doll, some little blue freak, and a bird-man from the future. Is there like, a kind of person that's 'normal' around here or are you all unique?" She seems genuinely curious. Regardless, she's ready to get a move on once Angela receives the banjo. As the group proceeds along the path she keeps her sharp eyes peeled for any signs of life up ahead.
Kale Hearthward	As Angelatablet strums the banjo, waves of color emit from it. At first it's a small effect as she tests it, barely noticeable, but once she starts on a full chord progression it's a more pronounced effect. Everyone around her can feel it, getting pushed back slightly, as if hit by gentle subsurface waves at a water park pool. "Yes, like that," says Frog, nodding. "With a bit more intention and direction." The feeling of draining nothingness, present since before your arrival, is also lessened now. Slightly. Temporarily.
Aidan Proudpick	"Are you sure this will be all right?" A turn of the head, a smile at Xion and Kale. "This is gonna be fine." He hesitates, but only briefly, "When I saw Future Kale here, he was happy to see everyone." A frown at Sarracenia, "Well, I didn't really see much of it. Just the dancing part and Kale and Frog. But." A hundred yard stare. Trying to filter through all those emotions. "I... think I know. But I don't wanna say." A broad smile on Aidan's face. No. This has to be it. It is too amazing for it not to be. His tail twitches excitedly. "But I think it's important." A single point. Where everyone's threads come together. A grin over at Petra, "I've been practicing. There's lots of dances of youtube." When the doll only nods back, Aidan's face falls. "Not woken up... Don't worry, we'll get you your arm back and woken up."
Calvin Nash	Sarra's incredulity, warranted though it is, was greeted with the same kind of conversational, interested "No, uh-uh!" that might be used for 'did you catch the game last night.' Oh. What? Wasn't it your fucking bar, dude?     "Charlene's, not mine. Still... tripped and fell, didja?" There's no way someone can be that oblivious. "Well. Might be time for Yolanda or Sven or one of them other handy folks to go take a look at them floorboards." He nods matter-of-factly. It's fine. This stuff heals naturally, my face almost never gets busted up anyways.     "Aight," says Calvin with another nod. "She says hey, by the way," he adds incidentally. "Took a real liking to you and Cinder, said she hopes y'all'l come back soon." Couldn't we just get them a prosthetic arm? ... I guess if it's like the train it just doesn't work like that but uh--is that doll even alive?     "Don't matter what it works like," Calvin gently chides Cinder. "It's like I told that robot fella. There ain't a whole lot in life that's really yours. It's a short, short list. Your body's on that list, and I ain't fixing to let nobody change that. Somebody up and took my arm, it's my arm that I'd want back. Not nobody else's and not something somebody done spun up to make me feel better, unless I didn't have no other choice."     "Besides," he says, his head inclining briefly in the direction of the brick path which winds beyond Frog's log. "Most people don't steal shit just for laughs. To take something that personal, our Thief'd have to be in a pretty bad way their own self. Faster we find 'em, faster we can get Mr. Frog's friend here that arm back, faster we can get that Thief what they really need."     LEAVE? >No     So we're going in blind other than knowing what our little thief looks like.     "Shouldn't be too hard to find 'em. Especially since not many people come through here, and they sound like they'd stick out. New faces tend to." An appreciative nod towards Frog again for the description. After a pause, he asks Futaba directly: "It take you a lot of practice to get that good at the shape-changing, or were ya born a natural?" Angela: test the banjo     "Damn, Ms. Angela. I didn't know you was a musician," says Calvin, impressed. He flashes her a little smile. "Good thing, too. Like a shot in the arm for whatever the hell's goin' on with this place." He lifts one hand from his waist to twirl an index vaguely around.     "Sounds like we got a good idea of where to start," Calvin decides on behalf of everyone. "Thief prolly hauled ass outta here--we get moving now and keep a steady pace, we'll come up on 'em tuckered out." He nods in agreement with himself, adjusting his hat, and makes to follow the winding brick road, silently expecting everyone else to come with him.
Xion	> "It's been, like, five minutes, so I think we're due for doing someone a random favor, sure." Despite all the flatness that Xion had adopted, a self-defense against the palpable leaking-oblivion of creativity that would be stymied by wearing proper protective gear, a little smirky chuff-giggle escapes her. Mostly breath and a little usualness, the well-worn and oft-trod idea - a weakness of her Heart, a habit of her ways. "Well, we did accept a quest." Frog explaining the past to Xion further 'confuses' (distresses, but she's muted in most spectrums of expression) the Nobody. "So, Kale came here, asked you to leave, and you did? And then..." Her pointing hand (she had kept pointing at Kale the whole time) shifts to Aidan, then Futaba, then Sarracenia. "And you've never seen them before? Where did you leave... to? And was anyone here when you came back?" > "... I mean, it can't be *that* dangerous or deadly here," Xion turns her hooded head and not her Aidan-pointing finger this time. "Can't it? This is like the Deeper Darkness, but hungry. It's-" Aidan speaks similar, and the negation doesn't ameliorate the Nobody's concerns -- she just stops talking about them. Lowering hand with a shrug that lifts Kingdom Key and bare-coated shoulder both, the Nobody exhales. All this changes slightly when Angela starts up her playing, Xion suddenly more animated and interested in things by several palpable degrees. A low crescent of shadowed blue peeks from under hood, and she joins Calvin in saying: "Wow, Angela, you're pretty good!", with a faint smile. But if there's one path and no objections, Xion starts off down it with her shouldered Kingdom Key. "Maybe if we play music on the way we'll get where we're supposed to go faster." Or, at all.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Angela, via the eggpack, strums the banjo to produce an eruption of color. Madeleine recoils at the sight of the waves, but as they wash over her she hesitates, and lowers her hands with a look approaching amazement on her face. "That... should have hurt," she says to nobody in particular. "Something's different about this place. It doesn't have an... allergic reaction to me, not that I can feel at least. ...I don't know if I like that."
Sarracenia	"Hasn't 'woken up'...?" Sarra repeats, unsure what that means. The doll moving surprises her a bit since it isn't supposed to be awake, so she can only assume this means some other thing. "Like, awakened a power?" she asks.      The question of immortality comes up, and Sarra actually looks interested in the answer. If Frog is immortal...maybe she could become immortal. But, Frog seems to leave that question unanswered. Sarracenia mmphs softly. "You did not answer that question. Immortality." she says. She obviously expects an answer.      Sarra does agree with the answer about moving forward, though. "Indeed. Going back is an option a hero rarely choses." she says, ready to move forward.      Very ready, actually. She is feeling more and more fuzzy and dim the longer they stay here. When Angela strums and it brings some color and life back, Sarra gasps and looks toward the eggpack. "D-do not stop playing." she says in equal parts plead, request, and command. Sarra really does not like when the world starts to feel grey. She isn't even jealous that she did not get the banjo from the frog since Angela using it is very helpful.      Despite that, Sarra can't quite contain a giggle as Futaba chews that wheat stalk some more. Futaba's comment at Petra's wounds draws a light 'hmph' from Sarra, though. "She did not give it back at all, I suspect." she says, her tone suggesting that she thinks Petra -should- have given some of it back.      Aidan frowns at Sarra, and Sarra blinks in surprise. He does not usually frown right at her. "...know what?" she can't help asking.
Kale Hearthward	> "Where did you leave... to? And was anyone here when you came back?" "It was another place in your world. I can't remember which. I couldn't go far into it, nor did I try too hard." > "Maybe if we play music on the way we'll get where we're supposed to go faster." Or, at all. "Right - worth a shot... um..." Kale looks around. "Anyone else bring an instrument?" Onward! As the group gets going, the red doll follows along, taking up the rear. The path, mostly, doesn't change. There's still a lot of nothingness. The notability that's here is what you bring with you, it seems. There is a change in scenery eventually, with an occasional copse of trees along the path. And a flash of blue - a small goober, running just ahead of you. By the time anyone catches up, they're long gone, though. The next time the scenery changes, the path reaching a clearing, there's a bit more to see. There's some grass here, and some more trees. There's something that looks like an ATM, off to one side, humming quietly and waiting for user input. The path leads to a cavern entrance, with a pair of waist-high barriers on either side - the sort that you'd find at an amusement park or in front of a club in order to shape a queue. The queue is long enough to hold a hundred people easily - but right now it's entirely empty. There is a purple Bouncer, looking more like a golem than a human, standing in front of the door. "Twenty schmuckles to enter," he says to whoever comes close. Briefly visible past him, there's a hint of blue, fading into the darkness. PRESUMABLY, getting past one (1) bouncer demanding twenty (20) 'schmuckles' isn't going to be too much of an obstacle by whatever means people choose to do so, so past that: Inside, is a dance club. It's not *much* of a club. There's at least color here, in the form of paint on the walls, and enough natural oeuvre that you aren't feeling drained. A fairly relaxed club-type beat reverbates around the room. A couple people of... various sorts are dancing on the floor. There's a knight(?) with a helmet and boxers on (no other armor or clothing) doing an intensive stomp-step. There's a kid dracula who's doing a sort of white guy sway-back-and-forth. There's a red mushroom monster that seems to just be doing its idle animation. They all seem entirely engrossed in their dance. "Hey." There's a white-haired beast person standing just to the side of the entrance. "Haven't seen you around here. Welcome. New arrivals?" "I'd buy you all a round, but..." He glances over at the club's bar, which is: empty. There's a rack that looks like it should be holding bottles and mixers and the other accouterments of overpriced club drinks, but it's all barren. "Ran out of stock... centuries ago. BYOB only now, if there's even any left." "Still, the dancing's good here, and it's not like there's too much else." There's a single path through the club, heading towards a rear exit door, which just happens to be closing when someone notices it. Between the group and it, there's a fairly narrow hallway, currently occupied by some sort of... blue elf(?), who's gingerly sipping from a martini glass.
Petra Soroka	"Charlene's, not mine. Still... tripped and fell, didja?"     Petra turns faintly pink at the reminder of Charlene-- the fact that her memory is kind of fuzzy due to getting her head smashed, and also being kind of drunk, doesn't allow her to forget agreeing to a threesome accidentally. "S-sure-- no, no, I didn't fall, I--" "You really got pounded hard, huh? Dang, hope you gave it back at least half as good as you got it."     Petra looks aghast at the implication that she's ever 'given it back'. "What the fuck are you talking about? It wasn't a *fight*. It was *Lilian*. I'm never *giving it back* to her, no matter how hard she-- dumbasses. Stop asking questions about things you don't understand, if you're just going to be nasty to Lilian about it. I'll beat you into a pulp." "She did not give it back at all, I suspect."     Petra makes a quiet 'grrk' sound like she's been gutpunched by Sarra, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. A dry, choked exhalation puffs out between her lips-- of course Petra would never top, but it's still *rude* to go out and say it like that! "I-I don't-- think we need to, to talk about that, any more-- I'm pretty sure it's obvious, enough, already. Come on." LEAVE? > YES < > NO <     LEAVE? > YES < > NO <     Petra obviously isn't planning on leaving. She's not sure *why*, really, but she committed to this nonsense all the way back on the Infinity Train, and Balan might be an asshole idiot, and Kale might be an asshole idiot, and honestly the WorldMachine's on thin ice too, but she still intends to see it all through. >Xion giggle     In the process of using others to shield herself from the eroding ennui, Petra ends up gravitating closest to Xion, of course. Even as bad as a state she's in, to Petra, there's still more of 'her' to buffer against nothingness than there is of practically anyone else here. Conveniently, this puts Angela right up near Xion too, when she starts strumming, and the instinctual observation that it feels *wrong* for Angela to be producing *banjo music* dies on her lips in the face of the small spike of joy around her.
Angela	''It's not YOURS hte same way if you got someone else's arm...'' "I don't think that's how it works where I'm from." Cinder admits. ''That...should have hurt,'' Angela experimentally plays a very intentional chord Madeleine's way just as the frog suggested. When this doesn't hurt Madeleine she says, "Hmm. It doesn't seem like it was a fluke. I am not sure why it would hurt, hoever." ''D-do not stop playing.'' Angela stops playing. "...Beg and grovel and I may consider it. If you do not I will simply play when I deem it appropriate. In the meantime I have to learn the D Chord--" Angela instructs Sarracenia and stops playing for the moment, not turning her attention off her as Calvin comments on her playing. "Ah, I learned the violin many loops ago," She explains to him, without explaining about the loops themselves. "I would not expect expert play from me for some time but I am educating myself so I can perform my duties adequately." ''Dance club'' Angela can't actually tell when there's a bad vibe vfeeling going on. She doesn't actually have schmuckles and doesn't think abou scamming them but once they are in the club. The feelings of being drained is gone from Cinder and she seems to recover and feel beter at least. ''Ran out of stock... centuries ago.'' "I understand. Until multiversal access became available, we had run out of champagne which was frustrating to me." She stares at kid dracula. "Nosferatu?? ... Why are you so short?"
Kale Hearthward	"Hi ho hi!" says Short Nosferatu. "That's a strange thing to ask, Hi ha ho!" "I could as much ask why you're in a phone," Kid Dracula continues. "It's rude! It's hard to drink your blood from there - not that I would, ha hee hi!" "... I am thirsty, though," Tiny Alucard adds. "Oh well! At least I can still dance!" Mini Count goes back to cutting a rug. Or at least doing something kind of like dancing.
Angela	"I am not a phone right now," Angela says triumphantly. "I am a backpack."
Kale Hearthward	"Ah! A backpack. My name's Ludwig." Ludwig dances for a moment more, then pauses. "Actually, I'd been thinking about changing it," says Ludwig. "How do you think... 'Fang' sounds?" "Yeah, I think it sounds a lot better," says Fang.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Twenty schmuckles to enter,"     "Oh, uh, okay." Madeleine turns and walks over to the ATM-like device, assuming (perhaps even correctly) that it is indeed an ATM. She lacks Dorado Black clearance but if this thing can connect to her modest Concord company account she should be able to wring some local pocket change out of it.
Kale Hearthward	Thank you for using the Automatic Terror Machine. To retrieve schmuckles, please insert... ... your... S O U L The Automatic Terror Machine animates and attempts to ram into her!
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan whistles. You'd be surprised how good you can be at whistling with you know wind magic. The whistling is perfectly tuned. Now, that doesn't mean that Aidan actually knows how to play anything, hold a tune, know what music is, but he can whistle in that way someone can simply start and continue by connecting things. At this point, Aidan is simply... sure. Sure in the 'fairies only exist if you believe in them' way. Sure with the power of someone who needs it to be true, therefore it is true. It wasn't a *fight*. Both of Aidan's eyebrows lift high, and he can't help but blurt out, some earnest worry in his voice, "She did THAT to you?" With the unspoken addition of 'And you are STILL doing this?' He stares at her, eyes glancing over her bruises. Aidan's mouth wobbles open and closed a few times, before he shuts it. He tries to bring his attention completely away, some of his whistling now petering off. He tries to focus on the path ahead. AT THE DANCE CLUB, A folded credit comes out of Aidan's pocket, Aidan hands it to the bouncer discretely, despite the fact there is no one in line, and passes on through without acknowledgement. He breathes in slowly once the color returns, trying to put the thought out of his head and refocus. He looks over at the white haired beastman. "Oh! Hey, I'm Aidan Proudpick." He reaches into his bag, "Hold on, I think I brought..." He pulls out a lukewarm bottle of a somewhat strong and extremely hoppy and herby beer, then hands it over to the beastman. "Have you seen a short hawk and a suspicious blue person holding an arm?"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine double-takes at the name 'Automatic *Terror* Machine' a moment too late to be ready for the device's sudden onslaught. As much as she'd like to think she's no pushover, today she proves to be one in the literal sense, knocked sprawling from her unsteady footing. The huntress recovers into a crouch and draws her knife as the machine charges her again, and this time she's ready for it. However, rather than rage against the machine, she simply turns tail and books it for the dance club. Once inside she should be able to lose the thing's attention... and her natural and supernatural stealth should allow her to slip past the bouncer-golem while one of the other Elites is talking or paying their way inside.
Xion	With Petra huddling near Xion for existence-warmth, Xion takes a moment to consider the other woman besides her. Then, as if it will help -- and perhaps it does! -- Xion moves her black-sleeved arm over Petra's shoulders and extends the tiniest amount of the Black Coat's protection against the nebulous 'Darkness'. The texture is a silk-like smoothness that nevertheless does the tactile opposite of 'breathing'. It is cloth holding its breath, puffed-out cheeks and petulant face, to shroud the Heart against the leakage into the surrounding atmosphere. It might feel nice on her neck, or, the gentle arm pressure might. The path is long and long and long and also not very interesting and long, but, eventually something appears! A disco! And, a bouncer... "I don't have any smuckers, but--" So Xion turns, still partially guiding Petra and with sword over other shoulder, to look at the ATM. "Well, I usually don't like *stealing* with--" > The Automatic Terror Machine animates and attempts to ram into her! "Oh no! Madeleine!" Xion calls, shifting off of Petra to move forward and grip the Kingdom Key in both hands. "Did you forget your pin? Don't worry, I can unlock *anything*!" Even if she can make the smuckers shower out, though, it's looking like a fight!
Futaba Nuki	EARLIER Cinder's enthusiasm to join in gets a laugh from Futaba as she bops her head idly to Angea's banjo strumming, especially when that draining feeling gets shunted off as a result. "Atta girl. Might as well be on the same page before we start heading off to who knows where." Madeleine, meanwhile, gets a snicker out of the ninja when she asks about normal people, and Futaba looks off to the side to hide that shit-eating grin starting to form on her face. She's totally thinking about something terrible, isn't she? Aidan mentioning dancing again gives her mixed feelings, though, not because she didn't like dancing, but because she can't remember how she did any of those moves she did last time. Futaba could probably cheat her way through the motions with thinner feet, at least, but the vibe... Despite all appearances, she's still feeling a little off about her own vibes/ Calvin gets her mood right back up, though, when he asks her about her shapeshifting, and Futaba grins brightly when he does (while also coming back up into her usual orange-haired humanoid shape). "Years and years of practice, my man. Back when I was a kid, I only knew my original form and one of my human forms. Now?" She reaches up and pats her bright mane of orange-hair, grabs onto her ears, then makes a little show of stretching them out into motorcycle handlebars. "I can even do some machines nowadays! Speakin' of... You got any buddies that can turn into their own rides?" When Xion points her way, meanwhile, Futaba turns just enough to make sure she's being pointed/looked at from a 3/4 perspective. Even in this context, she needs to make sure she looks good! Her head snaps back into facing-forward position once Sarracenia comments on Petra, though, and she gets visibly confused for several moments as Petra... Corroborates that she didn't? Clarifies that it wasn't a fight, at least, and that it was something Lilian did to her. That has Futaba opening her mouth slowly as the gears start to turn, and then a long, droning 'ohhhhh' comes out of her after a while. "Whoa... Whoa. So that wasn't a bit? That was a real..." Futaba nods slowly as she pieces more things together (maybe) (not really), then coughs lightly into her hand and looks off to the side to try and hide the growing grin. A moment later, she holds her hands up in false surrender while screwing with her proportions again so she's scrawnier and shorter. "Aw, don't beat me up. I'm just a lil' birthday girl! Come oooon." TO THE PLACE She's already back to her normal size by the time the group starts down that path again, although the only thing that catches her attention for a while is array of barriers. Futaba takes the long way around all the barriers, of course, going through the entire queue and clearly having fun despite it being so nothing. She even stops right in front of the bouncer, reaching into her pouch smoothly when he demands the schmuckles. Futaba has no idea what those are, so she just pulls out and hands over a whole pile of loose change and a few bandages that have fallen out of their protective paper covering. Inside the dance club, Futaba doesn't seem too bothered by the lack of booze indicated by the beast person. Instead, she's more concerned about the lack of people there generally, looking them over from a distance to try and find the blue thief. "Pretty long time to be out of stock. The suppliers ain't making deliveries, or did something else go on?" She asks, glancing pointedly at how few people there are on the dance floor. "For a place like this, I figured there'd be a bigger line and way more people in here. Something..." Futaba slows down momentarily, finally noticing that blue martini drinker. "... Happen around here lately?" She doesn't move from her spot at the front-ish with the beast person, instead holding that position in case the door needs to be blocked with a sudden body growth.
Sarracenia	Sarra rarely realizes the more seedy implications of things that are said until someone else notices them. Still, even the clean and more literal interpretations and reactions from the exchange between herself, Futaba, and Petra leaves Sarra smirking lightly and giggling a bit.      At least until...      '...Beg and grovel and I may consider it. If you do not I will simply play when I deem it appropriate. In the meantime I have to learn the D Chord--'      Sarra is not prepared. She is weakened and vulnerable, and broke one of her cardinal rules when dealing with an enemy. Do not show that weakness. Sarra's breath hitches and her eyes widen, then her fists and teeth clench. If she were not wearing those black velvet gloves she wears at all times, her nails would likely have dug into her palms much like Aidan's had been his.      And much to her dismay, she cannot quite stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. Combined with what Angela said yesterday about pouting and being an adult, and she really wants to stop them but cannot quite manage it. Cheeks burning red from anger and embarrassment, she just stares at Angela-pack for a few moments.      Of course, there is no way she is going to beg and grovel to Angela. So, Sarra has no choice but to turn and storm off, keeping her eyes out of view and moving faster as a short hiccup of a sob escapes.      When they reach the bouncer, Sarra does not even slow down. She pulls out a gold coin the size of her hand, shoves it toward the bouncer, and continues her storming through the door.      She starts to storm toward the bar, but then there are no drinks. She isn't even a drinker, but this is enough to make her throw her hands up in frustration and just leap over the bar. She angrily starts pulling drinks out of her purse of holding. Most are not even alcoholic, just fancy sodas and waters in overly-fancy bottles. But, she does pull out a couple bottles of champagne and wine.      She is half way through stocking all the shelves when she hears the commotion outside. Her eyes roll heavily before she hops easily over the bar again and pulls her hammer from her purse, ready to smash whatever it is. So SO ready to smash whatever it is.      Seeing it is an Automatic Terror Machine...and Xion asking if Maddie forgot her PIN...lightens Sarra's mood just a bit. She can't quite hold back a snorting giggle. "This is the enemy?" she says, even as she wipes the back of a glove over her eyes.
Petra Soroka	"Anyone else bring an instrument?"     Petra's already in the process of pulling it out of her bag when Kale asks that, in synergy with Angela playing the banjo on her back. Her guitar, older-than-new and gifted to her by Buttercup, is necessarily carried along with her in case the vibe to play it strikes, which happens surprisingly often.     She's, in fact, so quick to start withdrawing her guitar, that she doesn't stop in time to consider whether she actually *wants* to do that. Playing music in an inherently vulnerable thing, and doing that around *Proudpick* and *Sarracenia* and these random strangers? Just to solve some dumb environmental conceit for a mission? It doesn't feel *good*.     But it also really doesn't feel good when Sarracenia's pleading prompts Angela to stop playing. As staunchly allied with Angela as Petra is, the numbing apathy of the lowest-oeuvre seeps through her skin in moments of silence, causing her to shudder enough that Angela's camera view jostles. It's only because of the ideological inability to argue on Sarracenia's behalf against Angela that she doesn't chime in to agree that Angela shouldn't stop playing the banjo-- instead, she silently agrees with her, by loosely strumming her fingers across her guitar, dimly lighting up the area too.     "Um. I have an instrument." She only makes this announcement after a full minute of already holding it in her hand. "So we'll both play, Ange"     Petra can't really duet with Angela, since she's not a skilled enough musician to improvise with a banjo being played on her back, but while walking the path to the dance club, she steadily fingers at her guitar, settling into a simple, low-energy chorc pattern. Eventually, even, when the ennui presses in, she starts quietly, a little shyly, singing a bit. "... Sudden summer storms, where the world feels as angry as it ought to be, // hope you feel some comfort at the thought of me; // my heart, the organ not the idea, strains to keep my life here // five years, trying not to fall back, I, never learn my lesson..."     Being looked at while singing is an existential threat to Petra at this moment, causing her to hitch and fumble a word or note, gaze flickering avoidantly away and only continuing unabated by the power of Xion's cloak over her shoulder. She gradually gets more comfortable as she goes on, but at some point, they arrive at the dance club, and there's no need to perform anymore.     Petra has no smuckles, so, embarrassedly, she has to ask to borrow some for entry once Madeleine and Xion have defeated the Automated Terror Machine. Once inside, turning around so that Angela can talk to her tiny Nosferatu puts Petra right next to the white-haired animal person, so she's automatically a conversational recipient whether she wants to be or not. In this case, at least, she's pretty neutral on it.     "Oh, god, I don't need alcohol a second time in a week. That's insane." Petra does not understand how frequently most people drink. "Why do you even know it's been out that long? --Wait, okay, *are* you immortal? The fucking Frog didn't answer me, but that's the only reason you'd know that, isn't it?"
Petra Soroka	"She did THAT to you?"     "Are you people fucking *blind*?! Are you *stupid*?! What's *wrong* with all of you!" Madeleine at the bar, Futaba and Calvin now, and then Sarracenia and Aidan, all somehow asking the same question with the same noncomprehension, brings Petra to the breaking point, voice pitched up in sheer disbelief to the point that it's utterly unacceptable for an inside-the-dance-club volume.     "What the fuck have you been seeing when you look at me?! You dumb fucking freaks can't even *look* at me properly, can you?!" Petra, in a moment of anger-uninhibition, gestures furiously at her hickey-covered neck, glaring around at the Elites. "I'm not getting fucking punched on the neck every few nights for the past year, you retards! Stop playing around like you're naive fucking children and call me a fucking slur about it already."
Calvin Nash	I would not expect expert play from me for some time but I am educating myself so I can perform my duties adequately.     "Aw, shucks. It's a damn sight better than I could manage, I'll tell you what. Besides--I can't hardly look down on nobody that's educating themselves."     Stop asking questions about things you don't understand, if you're just going to be nasty to Lilian about it.     "I'm just worried when I see somebody hurt. Just don't overdo it." He's managed to speedrun going from oblivious to assuming unhinged violence is Just a Quirky Gay Thing Haha in record time. a small goober, running just ahead of you.     "Hold up there, boss," Calvin calls, to no avail, jogging to try and catch up. "Wanna talk witcha for a second. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Four whoas, spaced apart like a foreman directing an inept forklift driver away from disaster. "You're not in trouble, just--" No answer. "Just slow down and talk like you're grown for a minute!" The longer the exchanges go with no answer, the more Calvin's demeanor shifts from friendly to passively insulting to hostile: "HEY! WERE YOU BORN AN ASSHOLE OR DID YOU WORK AT IT YOUR WHOLE LIFE?!" He's in good shape, but not *superhumanly* good. Huffing and panting, he supports his knee with one hand and holds the other out.     "Dormina!" A streak of purple mist sails uselessly across the horizon, the sleep spell dissipating a ways off. "When I catch up to you," Calvin huff-pants under his breath, unaware briefly that there are other people besides him here, "I'm gonna bust a pop-knot on that bigass head in the shape of the wishbone formation."     At best, he's spent a lot of energy for no reason--at worst he's besmirched the goodwill that might exist between himself and the Thief, if not 'the party and the Thief' generally.     Calvin removes his hat to wipe sweat from his anger-pinked brow. Remembering himself, he stands up straight and clears his throat like none of it happened. Stop playing around like you're naive fucking children and call me a fucking slur about it already.      "Oh, it was Lesbian Business?" He's managed to speedrun being oblivious to characterizing unhinged violence as Just a Quirky Gay Thing Haha in record time. Twenty schmuckles to enter.     "That an ATM machine back there?" Calvin asks, after reaching the clearing and striding up. Of course he's the type of person to do the tautology.     Of course, it's an automatic *Terror* Machine. Not Teller. "UH-UH NOW!" Calvin yells, the same way you'd yell at a dog messing on the carpet. "Agi!" Calvin's uppercut is wreathed in roiling flame that spills out to wash violently over the machine. Following up with a straight jab in the other hand: "Petra!" It's a spell, honest! And when his jab connects the dark swirling miasma which wreaths his hand spreads out to turn the machine to stone. Calvin doesn't wait around to find out if it has some answer to that. The Bouncer gets a sleep spell if they try and stop him from coming in. Haven't seen you around here. Welcome. New arrivals?     "Hey there. Calvin Nash." His handshake is firm. Ran out of stock... centuries ago. BYOB only now, if there's even any left.     "So it's true. Y'all really do live forever 'round here. Glad t'see you're still findin' ways to have fun." He smiles. "We're here on business right now, but maybe later we could set y'all up with a distributor. My neck of the woods just got plugged in to everything that's out there not last week," he says, "Like a damn flood gate opened. You know?"     "Anyway. We're looking for somebody that passed through here. Don't sound like you get too many new arrivals 'round here, so I figure you'd probably recognize 'em if you saw 'em. Futaba, y'mind showin our friend here what you showed us a ways back?" After she does it (he assumes she can) "Look familiar?"
Kale Hearthward	Madeleine can slip past the bouncer. Unfortunately, so can the Automatic Terror Machine. MONEY! it spits (figuratively, verbally, and literally) at the bouncer as it charges after her, getting the bouncer to step aside. Anyone still outside can just grab some of the free floating bills and shove them at the bouncer as payment, if they don't already have another solution. (All of the money given to the bouncer gets eaten by the bouncer, incidentally.) > "Have you seen a short hawk and a suspicious blue person holding an arm?" "Hmm? You mean him?" says the rasta beast, gesturing at Kale. "Hey!" says Kale. "Blue guy went through the back door," says the rasta beast, which immediately gets the attention of the red doll. > "Wait, okay, *are* you immortal?" "Long as we're not killed, yes," says the rasta beast. "As are you, if you're staying here? I'm not sure if it works like that or not, though." > "Something... happen around here lately?" "More like nothing happens around here. Nobody who's making drinks anymore, definitely nobody who's delivering drinks anymore, and if there's any equipment or supplies left it's all probably being hoarded up by Gold Pig. Not a lot to be done about that." Sarracenia jumps over the bar and starts restocking it. Calvin mentions setting up a distributor. The rasta beast whistles. "Or - you could have gotten your hands on some of it. Jeez. Haven't seen some of that in... longer than centuries." He peers at a label. "Or - ever?" "If you're setting up shop here, strangers, you're gonna have a lot of friends really quickly. Name's Rasta Beast," says the rasta beast. As he's talking, and with Kale (who's on doll-minding duty) distracted by Petra's outbursts, the red doll seems to have decided to press on ahead, and is attempting to get around the blue elf person in the hallway - and ends up bumping into him. The blue elf person's drink drops to the floor. "... Do you know... what you just did?" He turns to the party, addressing them as a whole, as if they're collectively to blame. "That... was a two million schmuckle drink that you just wasted." "Zigg, chill," says the rasta beast, tiredly. "It was an accident." He sniffs in the air. "And - that smells like it was just water, and besides-" "You're going to pay for that," interrupts Zigg, as he squares up... ... and then starts dancing. It's not a very interesting dance. It's more of a back and forth two step. But it's done very... maliciously. Very directly. Zigg is not just dancing, he's dancing *at* you. Waves of color blast out along the floor, like the effects of Angela's banjo, but a lot more intense and faster. Anyone who can't get clear is going to feel an emotional sting - the opposite of the draining feeling from earlier, but kicked up to 11. It's like hearing an entire symphony all at once, like getting a whole book blasted into your head. Oeuvre overload, maybe? Meanwhile, towards the front of the club, the Automatic Terror Machine has charged on in, and is not dancing - but *is* attempting to bounce up and down and crush anyone it can under its animated bulk!
Angela	Angela, oblivious to the lowest-ouevre, is legitimitely surprised when Sarracenia actually starts crying. Angela is, of course, someone who can readily not care about that--it is a rare skill that she had to hone--but she does have that skill. But Petra playing her own guitar startles her out of employing that skill. "..." The screen turns to look at Petra. It was out of character for her to play, Angela thinks. "Is something the matter?" Angela asks. "There's some--ooofy-draining feeling going on that playing music seems to...push away." Cinder explains quickly. "...I see." Now she does feel a little guilty. Perhaps she could have instead leveraged this ability into Sarracenia being more subserviant to Lilian's interests? She certainly may have mildly harmed Petra in the process, which is unacceptable. She should have been more careful. And of course that demadning tone of Sarracenia's previously does FEEL more like begging now that she has the context... ''I can't hardly look down on nobody that's educating themselves.'' "I...thank you." She says, uneasily--but not really because of what Calvin had to say. Don't feel guilty. Your solidarity to them matters more than anything. ''Yeah, I think it sounds a lot better.'' "If you are happy with it, then that is good." Angela says distantly. "Gyah!" Cinder gets WHALLOPED by combat dancing which makes Angela remember they are actually here on a mission. ''She did THAT to you?'' Angela also remembers that these people constantly cause trouble for her loved ones. "Aidan, stop jumping at reasons to hate Lilian at every opportunity. IT is pathetic and I am becoming less oblivious as to what you are doing. Cinder, fight back." She strums the banjo. It seems appropriate. It's a D chord this time! And Cinder... ...is disappointed Petra stoppd singing and she takes a moment to say, "Hey... your singing is good, you know? I'll try dancing while you sing? ... For the mission?" Yes, for the mission. Either way, she starts a swayin' and a tappin' her foot.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Stop playing around like you're naive fucking children and call me a fucking slur about it already."     Madeleine scowls at Petra's outburst. "What? *What?* Do you think I care what goes on between you and the Dame Commander? Do you think it matters one lick to me whether she gives you kisses or scars? You're an Elite. If you didn't want what you were getting you'd leave her well alone. And it's all the same to me whether you do or not." A huffy little pause. The huntress opens her mouth again, intending to say something hurtful, but realizes she didn't think this far ahead, and just closes her mouth to glare at the- wait, that's it! "Twenty-year-olds, I swear," she stage-mutters, glancing Petra's way to gauge the reaction.     Then the ATM is through into the club, and there's waves of emotionally-hostile musical energy radiating across the floor, and Madeleine has a snap decision to make. The intense oeuvre of the dance attack is disctinctly uncomfortable to Madeleine, even if the colors are blessedly harmless in themselves, so she opts to engage the more material threat of the rampaging ATM. Instead of risking collateral damage by using her heavy weapons, Madeleine draws her knife again and leaps for the ATM, aiming to catch onto its screen at the apex of one of its bounces. Once there she rams the butt of her knife against the screen, hoping to smash it open and access the electronics within.
Aidan Proudpick	"What's *wrong* with all of you!" "Biting is one thing," that seems perfectly reasonable to Aidan at this point, he's been in the multiverse a bit too long, "breaking a nose is deranged." "Aidan, stop jumping at reasons to hate Lilian at every opportunity." "She keeps throwing them at me! I was trying to be nice for you and Kale and Xion!" "Hmm? You mean him?" Aidan tries to drag his face away from Petra, looking up at the beast. "No, him, but he's wearing a shirt with a disco blazer, pants, shoes, and sunglasses." "As are you, if you're staying here? I'm not sure if it works like that or not, though." Aidan frowns, "But you don't have any drinks? Gold Pig? You know, I'm starting to find out that everyone is hoarding food." A clenched fist, "Tell me where this Gold Pig is. I'll take them down." Then a crash. A freeze of the tail. A twist of both ears. He moves around, putting a big smile on his face, taking his beer back to move towards the blue elf. "Hey, come on! No need to fight. We are just looking for a thief. Here, you can ha-" Menacing step. Threatening shift of the hips. Aidan shifts and the beer suddenly explodes, drenching his outfit in the beer. His head twists with the barely avoided blow, eyes wide as he feels like he got hit with a whole book. And that is just from a single avoided blow. "Alright, you gotta sync up to the vibe!" Aidan jumps out onto the colored lines as they appear, start slow, building up with the deep bass music, matching the beat with short hops and swings of the arm.
Futaba Nuki	"What the fuck have you been seeing when you look at me?!" "Wait. So it WAS part of the bit! Or.. Wait, no. Real bar, real blood, but that was part of it, too, so..." It takes Futaba a little more mental maneuvering to really get it, and then she smacks the bottom of her fist into the opposite palm once it all clicks. "No, no, I get it now. Dunno if I could ever get into anything THAT hard, but..." For a moment, her gaze unfocuses and she stares off past Petra, past the people at the bar, and just spaces out. "First time for everything..." "Stop playing around like you're naive fucking children and call me a fucking slur about it already." Snapping back to reality, Futaba's confused look returns in full force as she continues drawing multiple incorrect conclusions at once. She looks over at Calvin, then Madeleine, then Sarracenia, and then Aidan before turning back to Petra with a raised eyebrow "Is that what y...? Uh. Sure, I guess." She takes a deep breath, getting herself just a little more psyched up as she approaches Petra with one arm coming up towards her shoulder. She's clearly getting ready to put on the most sultry voice she can, even starting to roll her tongue with a slowly pronounced "Pe-trrrrra", but stops herself several inches away from actual contact as the confusion comes right on back. "... W-wait, shouldn't Miss Rook be here before starting getting you ready with the fore...?" She asks, pausing to look around to see if Lilian is, in fact, waiting somewhere. In doing so, however, she notices the antics with the Automatic Terror Machine, and she cheers Madeleine and Calvin on. "Heck yeah! Beat the shit outta that thing!" She calls out, then notices yet another thing happening... It's the red doll chasing the blue elf! And the latter dropping his drink, capping it all off with a weirdly malicious dance. "Two mil? Hey, quit shittin' us. Even my brother never spent that much at the clubs!" She calls back out in protest, only then noticing the weird color waves coming out at her. Remembering what the Frog had told her earlier and her past adventures in this place, the tanuki doesn't even miss a beat before she starts stepping up herself. It's harder than she expects, though, since the initial wave of draining hits her harder than she expected. It's not so much that it winds her right away, but she does certainly have to put some more force into her own steps to get past that initial wall. Compared to Zigg's, Futaba's steps are still leaning more towards elegantly aggressive, like she's doing some kind of slow dance aimed squarely at forcing someone to step back lest she stomp on a foot in the process.
Sarracenia	Petra starts playing shortly after Sarra starts storming off. It helps, but Sarra's pride would not let her stop even if she wanted to. The singing though...that does give her pause. It is only for a moment, but she stops to listen for just a moment before continuing.      Sarra then listens to Petra's rant and looks...angry. "Oh, so I -should- have called you the thing I did not call you a few days ago?! You think no one sees it?! Well, I see it! And it is terrible! It is terrible for both you -and- her! You think I need help dealing with Aidan? Well, you and she -both- need help if this is the kind of thing you two are okay with! That is the whole reason I said I feel sorry for Tamamo! Even if she has said she is okay with it, what you and Lilian have is /unhealthy/! Even I can see that!"      A drink is dropped. A dance attack is launched in the midst of an ATM attack. This may be the one and only time that Sarra's skillsets actually meet.      When the blue elf thing starts dancing, Sarra grips her hammer and goes into a graceful, ballerina-like twirl. Her entire fighting style revolves around dancing with her hammer, and this is a singular chance to show it off.      Waves of counter-dance radiate from her as she twirls, then leaps elegantly to meet the ATM with an upward swing of her hammer, followed by a somersault that brings her to landing on the head of her hammer and twirling around its handle as she rides it down toward the ATM.      The crash is enough to cause a shockwave, possibly ruining more drinks. Sarra acrobatically cartwheels backward, bringing her hammer with her, then does one more for good measure before going into a rapid twirl that causes her dress to billow outward elegantly, showing the black leggings and red heels beneath before she comes to a stop with her hammer outstretched and pointed toward the elf with the arm. "Your drink is worth infinitely less than seeing the amazingly graceful Princess Sarracenia dance, and likely worth less even than your continuing good health. Please, return the arm." she says, her expression rather cold.
Xion	Walking along with her arm around Petra's shoulders, the Nobody in a black coat doesn't think too much about her action. It's something natural that comes to her, sharing body-heat but huddling together in the reality of each other and the strumming combination of Angela's banjomusic and Petra's guitar and singing keeps a warmed pep in her step... But after a while, it's not *Petra* that Xion's hooded head turns, but *Cinder*. TOO BAD THERE'S A SOUL-STEALING CAPITALISM TERMINAL TO DEFEAT! Xion is immediately inflicted with the Debuff most-hated among all adventurers: A 'metal slime'-type enemy with extreme attitude. She immediately is accosted by the advance of the Terror Machine, dodge-rolling out of the way as the ATM accosts Madeleine and the latter moves past the door and into the club. Gathering up a fat fistful of covercharge by running past the money and having it sworl about her before being hoovered up and reproduced in her free fist, the Nobody tosses the fistful at the Bouncer's hands. "I'm also covering for my friends! Thanks!" She'd just teleport through, but, Petra asked her to cover her door fee. Bursting through the club's door (after it was just burst through several times), Xion takes a step and then a leap forward, flipping into a Kingdom Key sweeping rolling overhead slash that lands her in a flank with Madeleine behind the ATM. "Hey don't worry, we'll have plenty of Munny once I unlock this--!" From behind she follows up with a flowing bonk-thrust-sweep slash combo, and with a second 'shwink!' deploys another Much Stupider keyblade into her right hand to finish her combo with a two-blade tornado slash. The Kingdom Key emits metal-donks. The Other One emits a Ku-popopo! trill as Moogle o' Glory (the Money Blade) is brought to bear dramatically. "I'm not looking to deposit, but make a *big withdrawl*!"
Calvin Nash	Blue guy went through the back door.     Calvin tips his hat to the rasta beast. "Thank you much," he says. Of course, before he can make good on it, the little Red goober is on their way *to* the back. Where a little incident happens. That... was a two million schmuckle drink that you just wasted. You're going to pay for that.     "No, sir, I'm not. You're gonna apologize for acting like a--"     Calvin is hit by a blast of color. "ShitHEAD!" He hollers in unusual cadence, hit with weaponized oeuvre. He's a dancer about on par with Zigg, but--     The slam of the ATM nearly smashes him and sends him sprawling across the floor. "I thought I told your ass to get lost," Calvin says. He hadn't. Mainly he'd just taken a swing and tried to get it out of everyone's hair.     Flipping open his COMP, he mashes in a quick sequence. The ATM, attempting to crush him, is stopped by the shaggy bulk and cattail-fingers of Pally the pellaidh, who snarls with exertion and wrestles it into a bear hug for Madeleine's swooping attack. "Yer in black trouble noo, ya fuckin' weapon!" As Madeleine closes in with her knife, Pally's bear hug takes on a property of freezing cold, icy crystals stabbing into the machine's frame.     Calvin, meanwhile, scrambles to his feet and hurls another spell at the ATM. "Shibaboo!" A length of sparking yellow chain spews from his outstrecthed palm, winding around the bottom of the ATM as Pally smashes it downwards and attempts to drive it screen-first into the ground for Xion's unlocking attempt. The chains spark and sizzle in irregular intervals, effectively causing tremors in whatever the ATM uses to jump up and down, hopefully making it easier for Madeleine, Xion and Pally to subdue it!
Angela	"Aidan I tried to kill you and I burned your house down and you thanked me for it. You have absolutely no room to talk." Angela counters. "If you can set aside ''that'' I think you can set aside private matters that do not concern you." Angela, of course, has always cared about private matters and it has only intensified now that Lilian has confirmed the nature of that private matter--but it does interfere with her ability to explain because she's not about to go into Lilian's sex life. ''What you and Lilian have is unhealthy!'' Angela's guilt has now fully evaporated. "Suffice it to say, it is none of your business as to whether it's unhealthy or not. The relationship is not your business. More to the point you barely know either Lilian or Petra so how can you speak to whether or not it is healthy or not. Petra and Lilian are both capable enough to make their own decisions. If you genuinely believe otherwise, you should try to stop them instead of gawking all the time." Angela rants. "If you were correct, they might even be grateful for your intereference! Or at the very least you would be ideologically consistent. As it stands now the only reasonable explanations for your insistent commentaries are that you are too frightened to act on what you believe in, you do not actually consider it your business, or you actually don't care and are simply using the opportunity to take potshots at your betters." ''Uh. Sure, I guess.'' "Futaba do not actually call her a slur." Angela adds, "She is expressing frustration at a lack of understanding not--" She lets out an exhale that is nearly a whistle.
Petra Soroka	"breaking a nose is deranged."     Petra tilts her head at Aidan, moderately unhinged-looking. After a beat of processing his words, months of knives and lighters and hastily temporally-reset broken ribs passing through her mind, she abruptly lets out a sharp, high-pitched laugh of pure derision. That's such a normal sound to come out of a girl! "Oh, it was Lesbian Business?" <B-anter> Calvin Nash says, "Well, not much. That's how come I asked y'all out for drinks. Good chance to dip a toe in. Now I'm hearing about killing people and hurting you, and I think she just asked me to call her one of them 'slurs' a minute ago, and realizing I mighta bit off more'n I can chew."     Petra, still incensed from her rant, pauses with her mouth hanging slightly open, stagger bar filled. If Lesbian Business offputs Calvin this much, then that's probably a good thing for Petra, right? But he seemed fine with deciding that it was just freak stuff between herself and Lilian, so-- so maybe she should be *more* honest, and weird him out to the point that he can't accept it so easily, demonstating clearly that she's an enemy to him and the entirety of Earth no matter how horny his weird hick bar is, because she's way more fucked up than he can handle.     But that kind of means throwing Lilian under the bus too, right now. Which Petra needs to effortfully decide to not do. "Don't-- don't act like it's suddenly so easy for you to understand after not getting anything a second ago. You don't know fucking jack shit about my business." Petra implicitly describing herself as a lesbian! This is a victory. "So don't act like you get it." "Do you think it matters one lick to me whether she gives you kisses or scars?"     Petra rolls her eyes at Madeleine, ratcheting back up into a seething level of baseline hostility that she hasn't managed for a long time. The edge on her voice is heat-warped, iridescent ripples of derision. "Of course it does. You people are obsessed with it. It matters so fucking much that you'll decide it's totally cool one minute and disgusting the next, just depending on whatever gets you a better score with whoever's around you. Even out here, all that matters is who's the freaks and who's normal."     At 'twenty-year-olds', Petra scoffs again, crossing her arms. "And I'm a million lightyears ahead of you. All of you." She forgets to say exactly in what sense. Usually, when she says that, it's implied by the conversation. "Oh, so I -should- have called you the thing I did not call you a few days ago?!"     "Oh yeah? *Were* you, princess? What was it?" Somehow, despite being challenging, that's the *least* aggressive-sounding Petra has been to any of the people retorting back to her. She kind of just sounds like she'd actually be excited to know? "Well, you and she -both- need help if this is the kind of thing you two are okay with!"     Petra lets out an annealing sigh, tension-releasing and building at the same time. "Finally. One of you who's fucking honest. That's all I want, you know, people who actually fucking admit it. I do all this fucking work to show how repulsively irreconcilable I am with you people, and no one even has the decency to actually say it."     "I mean, you're wrong, about me and Lilian. But I know you're thinking it, so fucking say it."
Petra Soroka	Petra's attention is diverted by the initiation of a dance fight, at which she clenches her fist and pointed heatedly at Aidan-- not able to form words at the moment, but clearly blaming him for prophesizing the dance. Still, she has a duty to support Cinder and providing supporting chord-fire, but she just strums a few awkward chords confusedly while Cinder taps her feet.     "Um. Wait, I don't really-- know any music that it's cool to dance to? I kind of just dick around with the guitar on my own, I'm not, like, a real professional in that way at all, and everything I play is... well, you know. S-saaaaad? Like, sadgirl music?"     She does her best, to pick up the tempo and down-down-updown-down threateningly at Zigg, but she's out of beat with Cinder, and she doesn't have anything she can sing along competently.
Kale Hearthward	Calvin's control stunlocks the machine briefly, creating an opening for Madeleine. Madeleine rushes the Automatic Terror Machine with a knife! She jumps at it and smashes at the screen with it. ERROR: Card Not Recognized it displays as the knife cracks the screen. With Madeleine in close range, the metal flap on the money dispensing slot opens and closes, trying to 'bite' whatever part of her is within range! Sarracenia slams down her hammer, hard. ANTI-THEFT measures engaged. Fine: one SOUL. Now extracting soul. Still with Madeleine grappled/grappling, it dives at Sarracenia, trying to crush her against the bar! Xion comes up with the moogle keyblade and a vicious combo. Withdrawal request accepted. Please stand by to receive funds. Oh! Okay then. That's all fine - no, no wait, it's firing bundles of bills at her and Calvin at high speeds. Cinder starts dancing. Aidan does as well, with Futaba bringing up a slow step. Fighting this way isn't entirely automatic - the moves need focus, and direction. Focus, that you're using them to attack someone, and obviously direction to narrow and amplify the blasts at whoever you're wanting to attack. Petra proves you don't need to be *good* at dancing, you just need to put in effort and intention. It's a slow start, getting the hang of 'fighting' like this, but enough waves of colored energy blast at Zigg that he can't get out of the way. And on a particularly hard hit, Zigg's sunglasses break. Zigg gives everyone a piercing glare. That is: He's shooting EYE LASERS now. "That does it! Those were four million schmuckle designer shades!" "There's a store in the village that sells them for five schmuckles each," comments Rasta Beast, dividing his attention between the fight and the bottles that Sarracenia and Aidan have provided. "Also, do you folks want any help? You seem to have things pretty well under control, and I don't want to step on any toes if you've got it handled." "They don't have it under control!" yells Zigg, as he EYE LASERS at the half of the party nearest him. This isn't an oeuvre attack, it's just plain old EYE LASERS. "And I haven't even used my STRONGEST ATTACK yet! Nobody has ever survived that!" "This isn't it!" he adds as he blasts more EYE LASERS. "This is just my normal attack right now!"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Of course it does. You people are obsessed with it."     Madeleine punctuates her sentences with desperate kicking to stay out of the ATM's jaws. "What? When have I- What? This is the first time I've ever said anything about it! You just listen to like, three people who hate you and assume that's what everyone thinks! Well! It's not! You're not the center of everyone's universe! Neither is Lilian! You just are for a few pricks and you've decided you must live in everyone's head like that! I'm an Elite! You think I don't have more important worries than the terms of your fucked up life-debt or whatever!? Well! I! DO! God! You're pathetic!" Kick. Kick. Finally Madeleine gets tired of kicking and reaches behind her back to draw her spear, collateral damage be damned. Drogrung roars to life, ghostly draconic claws clamping onto either side of the ATM in an attempt to crush the machine with brute force - and to pin it in place for further attack by the other Elites.
Futaba Nuki	"Futaba do not actually call her a slur." "She is expressing frustration at a lack of understanding not--" "... Oh. So this isn't one of those..." Futaba grimaces and rubs her forehead, not even fully comprehending what she thought it might have been anymore. A rapid understander of this sort of thing, she clearly is not. Even listening to how Petra snaps at Calvin, Madeleine, and Sarracenia doesn't fully put it through Futaba's head, and having to dance at Zigg all the while means she really doesn't have enough time to comprehend all of it right now. There's barely enough time to comprehend what it is Zigg's going on about, especially with Rasta Beast making it harder to tell fiction from reality. "Two mi.. Four? Oh, that's definitely bullshit! My bro's most expensive glasses were-" Zigg fires some eyelasers, and Futaba has only a moment to react! Thankfully, she's wearing shorts right now, so it's all too easy to do some sick splits, getting low to the ground so the lasers just skim right past the tip of her still-handlebar-shaped ears. "-something like three thousand! AND they're fireproof!" she shouts back at Zigg while also shooting the elf the most skeptical of looks. With a dramatic tail-slap against the ground to get back up, Futaba raises a hand in a quick wave at Rasta Beast without slowing down in her steps one bit. "dont' worry, we've got this! And YOU-" She points dramatically at Zigg next, sliding sideways as another eye laser sweeps past where she had been standing. "If you want some real strong attacks, then let's see how good you handle this one!" All of a sudden, Futaba picks up the pace. There's an impossibly rapid amount of step-taps coming from her as she continues her aggressive slow dance steps at/around Zigg, and a closer look even shows that her steps don't quite match the noise coming from her. On closer inspection, however... It's her tail. There's a tap-dancing shoe on the tip of her tail, and she's using that to add 33% more steps per step to her dance! It comes with the extra advantage of being able to balance just a little easier, too, and her slow dance becomes truly a steady, never-slowing force to be reckoned with. Each one takes her closer to Zigg, too, still just as intended to throw him off his game with the sheer power of invading his personal space.
Calvin Nash	Don't-- don't act like it's suddenly so easy for you to understand after not getting anything a second ago. You don't know fucking jack shit about my business.     "That's right. I *don't* know nothing *about* no Lesbian Business, dumbass. That's how come I call it Lesbian Business," he says, the epitome of 'confused but maybe has the spirit' and at the very least probably stanced non-enemy enough to piss Petra off more. "'Cause it's not my business. And that's okay, 'cause the whole world don't revolve around me and what I like. 'Cause I don't know nothing 'bout it, what, that means we gotta be assholes to each other? That don't make no damn s--" Calvin realizes he's having a conversation about identity and expression in the middle of a bar fight, right around the time the ATM starts spitting bills.     Calvin's forearms are up in a boxer's defensive stance, soaking up the first second or so before he sprints across the establishment to vault behind the bar for cover. Hitting the ground and opening up his COMP, he taptaps a quick string and mashes the Enter key. "I-- you-- GIRL, CAN WE NOT HAVE THIS TALK RIGHT THIS GODDAMN MINUTE?!" he yells as his side hits the hard ground behind the bar and the familiar weight of a lovingly cared for family heirloom settles in his open hand. Also, do you folks want any help?     This may as well be Power Word Kill for Calvin. "I *got* this!" Comes almost reflexively, as does a muttered swear when a laser comes close to striking him dead-on, mitigated by a scramble-push backwards.     His index mashes the down-arrow, scrolling through a menu of 'Shot' and 'Slug' until he settles upon 'Slug 3B.' They don't have it under control!     "Boy, your mouth is writing checks your ass can't cash!" The enter key materializes a handful of slugs, the rims etched carefully with rings of tiny occult symbols surrounding the alchemical symbol for silver, a crescent moon. This and several others of the same type are loaded into the breech, the action pumped as Calvin peeks over the bar.     The deep boom of the weapon's discharge sends out the expected muzzle flash, but also something unexpected: as the slug travels, it frosts over, gaining mass until it takes on the form of a writhing frozen snake, fangs bared and heading right for the ATM. Calvin works the action and fires again, then a third time, sending two more frozen serpents sailing through the air. They home in, following its bouncing movements, before sinking their teeth in and sending their frozen forms lancing through the points of their fangs like icy venom, spearing it from the outside in and then dissipating.
Aidan Proudpick	"Aidan I tried to kill you and I burned your house down and you thanked me for it." "I thanked you for NOT killing me. I know you can kill me if you want, and you didn't! And if I listened to you in the first place, I wouldn't have gotten into half the shit I'm in!" He bites down on the rest. Whether or not he's actually going to AGREE with 'well they are just consent...' Especially after Petra lets out a completely unhinged laugh. There's a true look of concern for Petra. Aidan tries to pull apart the chicken and the egg of that scenario, does she want it, is Lilian just following that, distracting him again as he tries to rationalize it through the colorful rainbow of forbidden loves. His steps falter as he struggles to push the square blue peg into the round purple hole. "Also, do you folks want any help?" Still distracted, "No, I'm-" An eye laser rips across Aidan's chest, plowing through his chest armor and just barely hitting across his ribs. "No, okay, help please!" Aidan staggers back. Alright, the vibe sync thing isn't working here. "Not gonna lose here... I gotta get to the end of this place. I gotta find out what's at the end." He's going on autopilot. Just trying to survive. Not able to think about really putting all of his heart into any dance, but at the same time, just forcing all of his frustration forward into a SINGLE dance, a simply shift of the arms, the hips, and a mighty emphasized step forward.
Sarracenia	'Suffice it to say, it is none of your business...'      Sarracenia lets out a growly huff and shakes her head. "Just because they are both okay with it does not make it healthy! As their friend -you- should also not be okay with it! It is true I do not know everything or even much of anything about what is going on between you all, but Petra was willing to help me and I would be the worst princess and hero and...enemy that is sometimes an ally if I did not speak up or try to help when she seems like she might need it and when what is happening could be hurting everyone involved! I have read about such situations, you know?! And according to the books those kinds of relationships poison the soul! And I have offered help on more than one occasion and it was declined!"      'I mean, you're wrong, about me and Lilian. But I know you're thinking it, so fucking say it.'      "I am not thinking it! Because you do not seem the type! It seems like you are in two or three relationships, but at least they are all with people you know and like and spend time with! And then you and Cinder both seemed fine with going home with Charlene together! That is not...th-that word!" Sarra still can't say such words. "Because you were doing it together and just having fun with a bartender who is either good at her job or was serious! And then your face was smashed into a bar! So, no I do not understand that part nor do I think it is a healthy thing for one friend to do to another! Unless you actually are a pet or slave or something! Which is still not really okay but at least more understandable!"      Speaking of smashed into a bar, while posing on the blue guy Sarra gets slammed by the ATM. Rasta Beast offers help, and Sarra considers it a moment. "I -would- like this to end before another dress of mine gets ruined." she answers as she pushes back against the ATM. "But, Mister Calvin is right. We can handle this!" She gets enough room to leap upward to let the ATM smash into the bar, then somersaults in the air and brings her hammer down again.      Eye lasers come out, and Sarra adds trying to avoid them into her dancing. A graceful back flip to avoid one sweep, another pirouette to hammer her way through another. She makes sure to show off in Zigg's direction, keeping her gaze on him even as she aims her hammer at the ATM.      "But, fine! If you do not want or need help, and you are fine with whatever screwed up relationship you and Lilian have, and Cinder and Angela are also fine with it, and Tamamo is fine enough with it that she is not stopping it, then maybe I should just forget it and stop trying! Oh but wait! If I did that, giving up and no longer trying, then I would be guilty of things I have accused Lilian of and things that you have said you hate seeing in others!"      Her hammer swings have become less graceful and more rageful smashing as she ranted back at Petra. She gives one last powerful swing, then does a few graceful spinning hops aimed at Zigg. She ends up looking at Petra and Angela, though. "And I cannot have that. Because forcing all of you to acknowledge me as someone who is strong and dependable is now..." She pauses as she tries to think of the words. "...something I must do."
Xion	There is a massive amount of Creative Energy in the air that Xion's coat-shielded Heart-shaped-place senses and seizes to. Something real. Something true. Something emphatically held, spilling out, as voice, as song, as shouted symphony. Is it the beautiful rainbow of colors (and Laser Eyes)? Nope! It's pain! There's so much pain, and hatred, and sweet expressed worry. Rich, oily fuel, but it's color all the same to the Nobody. Focused on her own fight, and pushing through her combo to reset with a wide two-blade stance of crossed arms. It's a strong guard against another charging strike! She expects the ATM to do more... biting? > Withdrawal request accepted. Please stand by to receive funds. "Oh!" Xion brightens up, pushing up the tip of her hood with the side of the Kingdom Key. This gets her shotgunned in the face by: Schmuckers! The Power of Unlocking opens up the whole cash reserve of the Automated Terror Machine and the Nobody just eats it full on... Not *literally*, but, pretty literal for figurative! As the money hits her, it disappears, some of the force lost as her inherent item-gravity starts counting up Not-at-All-Munny stratospherically. She's a smuckermillionaire!! "Ohw!" Xion complains anyway, hood blown off her head and mussed bangs smushed around by loose bills and coins that fade into dark particles and dissipate. "Fine, you want to play it like that?" Xion declares, hot under the collar now, riding the negative emotions in the room to fling aside Moogle o' Glory. The hanging-Moogle-plush tooth bounces and 'Kup-'-calls before the sound cuts out with the disappearing 'shwonk' of the discarded blade. Instead, in her right hand appears a fresh second blade - classic for the ususal crowd, a tipped end and a star-capped tooth for Starlight. "Nobody should spend their soul to extract a few *bucks*!" With her shout, Xion drives a knee into the ATM with a trail of purple-energy gravitics off her leg. The power drives ATM towards Madeleine's spear-strikes, and then her twinned Key-blades slash out into a 'decapitating' single twinned crescent along the back face of the struck ATM to join the huntress in kicking the crud out of the money-spewing ATM.
Kale Hearthward	The Automatic Terror Machine gets crushed. The Automatic Terror Machine gets frozen. The Automatic Terror Machine gets smashed. The Automatic Terror Machine gets decapitated. At the end, it finally stops moving, and just sits there sparking in the middle of the club floor. ... Now processing your request. Please take your receipt and your funds. Thank you for using the Automatic Terror Machine. ... reads the display, in the remaining part of it that wasn't cut off by Xion. There's a whirring noise, and then a twenty schmuckle bill gets pushed out through the busted-up cash slot, and drifts slowly to the floor, landing next to Madeleine. The party's dancing steps up. Futaba puts effort into hers, Aidan puts his heart into his. "My ultimate attack - RED DEATH MARATHON!" And Zigg... fires more eye lasers. Just - more eye lasers. But a lot of them. Actually he's firing them for quite a long while - these aren't bursts, he's just firing one continuous beam of eye lasers, sweeping them across the party's positions, and it goes on... ... and on... ... and on...
Kale Hearthward	... Until, hit or miss, the eye lasers just sort of start sputtering out, and then Zigg stands there panting for a second, and then slowly falls over backwards, unconscious. "Yeah that's - that's Zigg. He's like that. I'm sure he'll apologize when he wakes back up," says Rasta Beast. This turns out to not be true. This guy does not, for those who saw 'blue' and got things mixed up, have the red doll's arm. Zigg happens to be blue, yes, but he's not the 'Blue Thief' that stole the arm. The good news is, that the party can catch up to the blue thief right outside the back door of the club! This is because the blue thief is lying, facedown, next to the side of the path. The party's only gotten quick glimpses of the little blue goober earlier, so they can get a good look at him now - he's another wooden doll, like the red one that's following them, only more animated. And shorter. And verbal! (And, obviously, blue.) "Gold Pig - he lied to me..." the blue thief gets out, when he hears someone approaching. Wait - the party only got a quick glimpse earlier, but even so, it's clear that the blue thief is missing something. "I stole the arm for Gold Pig, because he said he'd make me taller, but then when I gave the arm to him, to Gold Pig, he... he took my..." ... Oh, that's what's missing. The animated blue doll is missing his legs.
Petra Soroka	Petra's inability or refusal to dance along with everyone else makes her a sitting duck for the beams of oeuvre-energy coming at her from Zigg, and then later from the eye beams coming at her from the same. Normally she's much more nimble in battle, but once it's associated with dancing she awkwardly plants her feet to strum on her guitar, clumsily attempting counter-blasts or sidestepping rather than springing around freely. "You're not the center of everyone's universe! Neither is Lilian!"     "Lilian is the center of everyone's world, idiot. At least, all the Elites in the Sector, whether they know it or not. No one fucking does anything here without it being somehow related to her, or ending up related to her, or because of how badly they want it to not be related to her, or whatever." Petra declares this like an inalienable fact about reality, which, at least, it is for her. "And anyways, I'm talking about ideologies. Gravity. The cancerous mass of 'you' versus 'us'. I couldn't give a shit what any of you individuals think. I barely even believe you're capable of it." "That's right. I *don't* know nothing *about* no Lesbian Business, dumbass. That's how come I call it Lesbian Business,"     Petra nods sagely, mollified by Calvin's wisdom for once. "Oh, okay. You mean like Guys' Business." Having her own linguistic quirk unknowingly mirrored with the same intent instantly enables Petra to empathize with Calvin's position, and even more than that, gives her a brief, eye-opening glimpse into understanding the mind of Guys. "I get it." "I-- you-- GIRL, CAN WE NOT HAVE THIS TALK RIGHT THIS GODDAMN MINUTE?!"     Petra, who has spent far too much time in the company of Elites, ducks behind a kicked-over table to shield herself from an eye beam, slouched back against the makeshift barrier while still strumming her guitar for Cinder's dance, looks blankly across the bar at Calvin. "Why? What do you mean?" "It seems like you are in two or three relationships, but at least they are all with people you know and like and spend time with!"     Despite all of Petra's ideological declarations of enmity, this seems to be a sticking point that flusters her enough to jar her off ranting and into a brief stammer. "Okay, but-- but, like-- like, I-I'm not, though? I'm-- I'm in one, dating, Cinder. L-Lilian and I aren't-- she's with Tamamo?"     Sarracenia's continued insistence, and comparison to the way Petra reached out to her about Aidan-- something she does shoot a warning look to check Aidan for his reaction to-- wears her down in a way no one else does. Queer radicalism might place her in eternal opposition to Sarra, but girls do stick together, and on this Petra can't actually compromise. She sighs, taking the edge off her anger, though she still has to be loud enough to be heard over ATM currency-jingling and chaotically clashing music.     "Look, Sarracenia, it's two different things. Me coming to you about Proudpick is something different, because-- I'm totally far past avoiding being hurt; you aren't. I've got shit I'm doing, shit I'm aiming for, where that doesn't even matter anymore. The fact that you're even, like, arguing that the things I do need to be healthy, means we're on totally different levels. *I* don't fucking want to be safe or protected; checking on you to see if you are is different."
Petra Soroka	Petra-guitar-mode is aesthetically designed for slouchily-sitting against walls and on bar-counter edges, in quiet, low-energy and gently low-mood settings. The coffee store tunes, basement serenades, introspectively-elevated lounging, from which Petra's instrumentality is built and mimicked, means she's spending the rest of the battle there on the ground with her makeshift table shelter. This becomes a problem when the eye beam ends up melting a hole right through it, and to keep the Eggpack from being totally fried, and to keep her guitar from getting burnt or slammed on the ground, the most acceptable part of herself to put in the line of fire while scrambling away ends up being her body.     Singed and annoyed, Petra wanders over to Zigg once he falls unconscious, stashing her guitar away and snapping her mirror shut with an aggressive click. Against all sense of decency, she winds her leg back to kick Zigg in the ribs hard enough to bruise badly, then huffs and turns away. "Annoying bitch. You'd think he was *looking* for a fight." >The animated blue doll is missing his legs.     "Oh my god..." Petra looks down at the de-legged and (extra, stolen)armless doll with a look of dawning horror. "This Gold Pig... is trying to build a *new* little guy."
Calvin Nash	Calvin hops up from cover just a bit too early, and catches a searing laser on the arm for his trouble. I'm sure he'll apologize when he wakes back up. Annoying bitch. You'd think he was *looking* for a fight.     "He damn sure better--Dia!" He runs a hand over the burn on his forearm, and a medicinal blue mist pulses over the wound, guided by his palm. "Or else I'm gonna come back and settle up with a six million shmuckle slap upside the head," he threatens the unconscious Zigg, holding up his free hand as the shotgun rests barrel-up against his shoulder, finger away from the trigger. Grabbing his hat from the bar where it'd fallen off in the commotion, he plants it back atop his head. The mullet is contained--for now.     Calvin balances the shotgun on his inner arm, tapping out a command on his COMP to store it once more as data. He then tosses a small pearl to Pally, who shoves it into his upside-down porcelain face. Evidently, it's some sort of patch-up for demons. "Nice work, partner," he asys.     "Thanks," says Pally, his porcelain mask bobbing.     Heading out the back door, they both find the thief face down. "*Now* look atcha. If you'd have listened to me earlier, this wouldn't'a happened, you stupid little shit," he says.     "Keep the heid, Calvin," Pally gently chides. "They could nae have knowed that."     "Perfectly calm, boss," says Calvin. He sure wasn't a minute ago. He leans down and helps the thief up into a sitting position so they don't have to have the conversation face down.     Calvin pushes the hat backwards and indulges in a sigh. "We'll get 'em back from Gold Pig. Your legs," he says to the thief, "And your arm," to the red puppet. "And when we do," he continues, looking back at the thief, "I'll ask around and find you somebody that can make you taller. But you gotta promise me you gonna stop taking from other people. Aight? Now. Obviously we ain't gonna leave you in the lurch. We'll get you something to last you until then. Kale," he says, looking over his shoulder, "You mind ringing up, ah, whatshername... Hazelthistle? See if she's got somethin' that'd help 'til then?" This Gold Pig... is trying to build a *new* little guy.      Turning his attention back towards Petra, he nods in agreement with her assertion. "Peckerhead," he spits.
Sarracenia	Sarra looks somewhat skeptical as Petra insists she is only with Cinder, but figures she would be flaunting it like crazy if she actually was with Lilian like that. "...well...if you insist..." she says, then sighs heavily. She cannot even imagine what is happening if Petra and Lilian are not a thing in that way. She looks toward Madeleine at the mention of the life-debt. "...is that it...?" she wonders aloud.      'Look, Sarracenia, It's two different things.'      It is noteworthy that Petra uses Sarra's actual name instead of the usual disdainful 'princess' or 'kill yourself' she would usually get. The concept of not even wanting to be safe or protected is such a foreign one that Sarra gets a kind of 'does not compute' look on her face. "I...I do not want to be safe all the time, but...you...just never want to be safe and protected? At all?"      She obviously does not understand, and it takes the wind out of her sails. She just does not have enough experience or knowledge of the world outside of her castle and her fantasy hero searching to make sense of it. "I do not...understand. How can you be...past avoiding getting hurt? Does that mean...you want to be hurt?" That seems to concern her. "And...what could you possibly be aiming for?"      Sarra looks unsure if she would even want to be on that level with Petra if this is how she'd end up. And while pondering it she gets raked by those laser eyes as well. She yelps as a burn appears across her side, the beams burning right through the material of her dress. She doesn't join in on kicking Zigg while he is down, but the guy does earn an annoyed 'hmph' from Sarra as she follows after the others to find the blue doll.      And having no real idea what is going on here, she is confused by Petra's horrified look. "Is...is that bad? Building a new little guy? Why would they need others' parts for that?"
Xion	When the ATM finally is no more, and Xion stands near Madeleine, breathing heavily out... The hoodless-coated Nobody starts thinking about other problems more directly. Her pair of Keyblades, one to a hand, lower tips to ground, and then her hands open and the blades drop for fractional seconds as they disappear into pale light and metal-sound 'shwonk' disappearances. If Madeleine's spear and her key-decapitation efforts had actually ripped the ATM to shreds, there's a whole bunch of debris near the dance floor. Guiltily, Xion waves a hand out to inventory 1x 'Broken ATM' and disappear the bits and scattered parts as well. Pulling up her hood again with thumb and forefinger, the hooded and shadow-eyed figure emits a gentle mutter and looks around. "Well..." Xion walks to the bar's shelf, and de-inventories a box of off-brand soda. She repeats this with canned sparkling water (each one bears a moogle - the same, highly marketable moogle - holding some fruit, indicating the flavor), and-- Even with hidden eyes, the thin frown on Xion's face is all anyone probably needs to see to divine her trying to smooth something over. "Sorry, um, about the ATM? But this should be worth... Um... What's forty-eight times five million?" She gets her phone out of her pocket to do math. It's a bit sussy math, but, the dance floor guy said his drink was worth quite a bit! Xion, finally, addresses the elephant in the room, and asks Calvin Nash and Petra once more: "Everything going to be okay?" Specifically, them.
Calvin Nash	Everything going to be okay?     Calvin shrugs his shoulders. "Well--now that we've had a minute to talk without gettin' fucked around by them two assholes back there," he says, tipping his head backwards to indicate Zigg and the ATM, "Yeah. I think so. I never met nobody like Petra. Or if I did," he says, "I never knew it."     He reaches into his pocket and snaps off a piece of ginger, first offering it to Xion and then taking a piece (or that piece, depending) for himself. "There's gonna be times where I gotta ask her what she means by something, and maybe times where I don't get it. But it'll be aight. 'Getting it' ain't so important as doing right by people, anyway."